As a Dominican woman, I have listened to casual anti-Haitian sentiments in the intimate spaces where members of my family and community do not think it is problematic to express these views. At the dinner table, at the hair salon, in intimate gatherings and conversations, while watching the news about the political and economic situation back in Hispaniola. Oftentimes, these comments and conversations sound a lot like the ways that white Americans talk about immigration in the United States, or potentially the ways that Israeli settlers talk about their Palestinian neighbors (and this comparison comes from Israel’s recent offering to help the D.R. secure its border).
In my years of collaborating with We are All Dominican and talking about Dominican anti-blackness with people like Heidi Lopez and Ysanet Batista, I have learned that silence is complicity. Silence in the face of injustice is as good as siding with the oppressor. In the case of Haitian and Dominican relationships, when it’s clear that poor Haitians immigrants are being systematically marginalized, being silent is akin to a betrayal of the most vulnerable in our island and communities.
With this in mind, I suggest the following action steps to intervene into conversations about anti-Haitianism and anti-blackness among our Dominican community.
Know the nuanced facts, not the nationalist story that Dominicans have been sold. Nationalism is not about facts, information and figures. Nationalism is about creating an exaggerated pride in the concept of a nation in a way that overshadows rational sentiment that encourage appreciation and care for the “Other.” We are living on stolen indigenous land and it’s about time that we disinvest ourselves from the idea of the nation. The consequences of this nationalist story are being felt in 2019, when hundreds of thousands of Haitians and their descendants remain stateless.
Tactic: Learn the origin Dominican nationality in the 19th century by reading books and articles by authors like Milagros Ricourt, Lorgia Garcia Peña, Dixa Ramirez and Anne Eller (recent texts among many many contributions). Similarly, educate yourself on the origins of the current denationalization crisis.
Cándido Bidó (20 May 1936 – 7 March 2011)
"Paseo de la Mañana"
Oil, Acrylic on Canvas, 127 x 152cm.
Completed 1979.
Don’t be afraid to analyze and call out power dynamics that contribute to anti-blackness and anti-Haitianism. Educate yourself on how wealth, power and status operate and function in Dominican society. Where do you and your family fall into this dynamic? Do you employ a Haitian domestic worker? Do you or have you ever employed underpaid Haitian laborers? Have you repeatedly ignore anti-black and anti-Haitian commentary in the past? If so, recognizing and talking about how the STATE, the DOMINICAN ELITE and YOU yourself are complicit in the power dynamic that perpetuate anti-Haitianism could be a place that involves you in the process, not as someone who “knows it all” but is also learning.
Tactic: Employ a power analysis process centering your Dominicanidad to examine how you and your family holds power in society in relation to Haitians in the D.R. and the U.S.
Take Action. Good intentions and faith without actions are fairly meaningless. Once you have analyzed your structural power, list, envision and begin practicing creative ways to divest from that power in everyday life. These can include where you shop, what businesses and non-profits you support, where you get your news, what you share on social media, what language you speak, what relations you invest in and much more.
Have face to face or phone conversations. I find myself being exhausted when my interactions on this topic take place online exclusively. Instead, build with your cousins in your what’s app family group, or your aunts when they come to your house to chimear and eat with your family. Build with people who you love and care about and whose visions you want to embolden and expand.
Tactic: In beginning these conversations with your close people, it might be tempting to feel excitement about all you are learning and frustration when you are met with resistance. Shed your sense of superiority and your desire to be right and instead come from a place of humility when having these conversations. I get in that space by thinking about all the great things that my beloveds know that I don’t know about, all the life experiences they have had and the structural reasons why they think how they do.
Pay attention to emotions, relationship dynamics and lead with love, patience and action. Contrary to popular belief, cancelling your relatives who have been educated to be anti-Haitian will not further “the work.” They will continue to hold their be anti-black in your presence, or outside of it. The transformations that we seek are only as strong as our relationships. Moving from hatred and fear to tolerance and reconciliation is a full heart, full soul and full body experience. Even after learning and sharing the nuanced story of 1844 (we suggest readings that can guide us), it’s still key to remember that our relatives, friends and beloveds must be invited, not pushed, into the journey you are on to decolonize your ethnicity. For people gaining their bearings in an adopted country, or living in marginal conditions back on the island, nationalism and the narratives that it creates might be one of the few comfortable stories to hold onto. When questioning or challenging folks, take into account what you are taking away, and what visions of the past, the present and the future you can share in order to mitigate the sense of that loss. Invite them into the actions that you have designated as ways to disinvest yourself from the power structure that hurts Haitians in the D.R.
Tactic: Engage people in a conversation about their feelings about the state of the island and their hopes for its future. Challenge them to think about how to include all people in that vision. Move into a space of visioning and hope, rather than the space of fear and scarcity that abounds with nationalism. Our people must know the big “WHY” of why we are placing ourselves through discomfort and challenging their long-held assumptions about race, nation, power and privilege.
Draw comparisons internally (the D.R.’s policy towards other immigrants) and externally (between the U.S. and the D.R.) I have been successful in speaking to my mother about anti-Haitianism by drawing comparisons between how immigrants in the U.S. are treated, and how Haitians are treated by Dominicans in the D.R. If you are needing more information about this, see a recent article that I co-wrote with Amarylis Estrella for the We are All Dominican Collective. The pieces examines denationalization and the end of birthright citizenship tactics used against Black immigrants in the Americas, including the U.S.
Oftentimes, Dominicans will resort to saying that immigration regulation is the issue at stake, all the while erasing anti-blackness and anti-Haitianism. In this case, point towards the many Venezuelan immigrants who are successfully incorporating to Dominican society despite immigration irregularities. How does their proximity to whiteness (yes—including Afro-Venezuelans) impact the dynamic?
Self and Community Care as Key. These conversations can be extremely draining. The conversations that I aim to have with Dominicans are conversations that re-humanize Haitians, and Black people in general. This work cannot happen using the language and tactics of white, patriarchal supremacy. It is labor rooted in radical love, patience, love, compassion, all with the aim of transformation towards justice and equity. Step back as you need to and seek support from friends who are experiencing similar conversations. Social media can be a great space for sharing how these conversations are going amongst family and friends.