Tout moun se moun.

When you have been in Haiti for a while, poverty ceases to become extraordinary. The conditions which once seemed so shocking become the norm, and things which once elicited an emotional response do not. You begin to realize that poverty is relative. For example, the standard of living in Cange is much higher than in isolated rural villages. There was a time when the living conditions in Cange shocked me, but now this is my everyday life, and my friends and neighbors are the people who live in the houses that seemed so small on my first visit. The houses are small but are kept spotlessly clean and are places where we are invited to visit our friends. Though lacking water and electricity, they are comfortable and cool inside. There is a huge difference between the concrete two room houses in Cange and the banana frond shacks we have seen when hiking to other villages.

I came across something I had written when I was in Haiti last year. When only in Haiti for a few days, things seem shocking when compared to the life you lead in the US, which is so fresh in your head. Now, when reading over my reactions to what I was seeing, I began to reflect on the ability of the conditions here to evoke such an impassioned response. I am reminded of the Haitian proverb, “Tout moun se moun,” or “All humans are human.” I consider that to be the theme of my writing, which I have included below. Consider it my personal manifesto on the importance of international development…

Resiliency. That is one of those words used by humanitarians to describe the people living in poverty and oppression. What does that even mean in this context? Is it the pride I see in a mother’s eyes as she stands with her children in front of their home, which is leaning precariously over the edge of a bank eroding off the side of a cliff? Is it the young mother waiting at the hospital with a sick baby who, despite the situation, is lovingly dressing her baby in her Sunday best and humming a tune to put her at ease? Maybe resiliency can be found in the mournful stare I see in the eyes of a child in the ICU, a child I am devastated to realize is the same boy I knew 2 years ago, born HIV positive and orphaned. This boy is now in pain, suffering silently, with those same eyes, now mournful, which used to contain so much joy and highlight a dazzling smile. The way the term resiliency is used, it is supposed to signify some inherent characteristics in the Haitians that they possess instead of us. Those clichéd phrases about how there is “dignity in poverty” or “grace in suffering” or some other convenient euphemism, meant to absolve visitors of having it on their conscience, is just used to justify our numbness, our acceptance of the status quo. Sure, the poverty in Haiti moves people emotionally, but then it is conveniently forgotten and people go on living their lives.

I am not arguing that Haitians are not resilient, they definitely are. But we should not applaud them for being so and wonder at their happiness, we should do something. It is not just about money. It is about advocacy, time, and commitment. It takes work, and it is not an easy fix. It is not about wiping your own conscience clear. It is about holding your forbearers accountable and agreeing to work together as equals moving forward. We are all equal. Our “race” is humanity and our “nation” is humanity. It is not “us” or “them”, it is a collective “we”, and we need to cooperate. The West needs to drop the guise of superiority and hold itself accountable. The most poverty stricken in developed countries would be among the wealthiest in Haiti and in a majority of other places throughout the world. We live in a land of abundance. It is time we open our arms and borders and give time and compassion, not just a cold, faceless check that will be absorbed in a corrupt system before it reaches its intended beneficiary. Maybe I am being naïve or too optimistic and idealistic, but more people need to hear this. I love the people of Haiti too much to see these global systems of oppression stand.