teaching my daughter in the Haitian-Christian tradition

initial thoughts on motherhood

As I have been embarking on this still very new journey of motherhood, I have been struck by the myriad of complexities and an on-slaught of emotions that often come from within me. How can one six- pound baby bring all of this on?? And the interesting thing, is that often these emotions are in complete juxtaposition of each other. For example while it is entirely new, and slightly scary to have been a part of this beautiful arrival of our daughter, (and indeed the world of motherdom is truly a new land to discover) I also find that much of being with her, caring for her, and simply including her in our lives, exudes a certain familiarity as well. As if in many ways, I’ve always  been made for this role, for this exact season in my life. Often I find myself asking the Holy Spirit for insight on my daughter, asking who she is, what are her needs.  And just as often, I seem to intuitively be given just what I need to  know, for that moment, how to respond effectively. I am grateful for this gift from God. Of course many aspects of mothering and parenting are also trial and error, but even in those more challenging moments, there is a deep trust that I will not be at a loss for too long. And indeed, God has been more than faithful in teaching me who my daughter is, as she too in her own way continues to instruct me on how to care for her as she is developing her personality and character even at her very young age.

how I grew up:

navigating English/French Canada - Haitian-style

Other emotions also arise. Deep and oft-times a maze of emotion with a hint of fear as it pertains to ethnic and cultural identity swells from the subconscious-barely-aware-of-it to the forefront of my consciousness and thoughts – especially as I consider the cultural reality of the smallish southern town in which our family currently lives. As I think about my daughter’s ethnicity, being a Black baby of Haitian-Canadian, African-American, Choctah-Pawnee, in the midst of this culture,  I find myself filled with an unexpected burden – to ensure that my daughter learns who she is, ethnically, racially and linguistically in a much less ethnically-diverse community than I grew up in. Sure, I myself, grew up as somewhat of anomaly, born into a Haitian immigrant family living in Canada, but having English as a regularly-spoken third language in our home (admist our native Haitian-Kreyol and French as first languages). A typical Haitian family in Montreal simply did not comprise English-speakers. Ours did. Eventually my siblings and I grew more comfortable with English, all of us having attended English immersion schools since those early primary school days as a result of living in English-speaking Ontario (in Toronto), instead of Quebec for some 4 formative years of our lives. But then we returned to Montreal, and those years in the French-speaking province of Quebec, proved to shape us equally as much as Ontario had. And though we grew comfortable with English, it was always in the context and backdrop of Haitian lore, Haitian music, culture,  food, Fringlish (French and English), laughter, Haitian jokes and general typical  Haitian-family drama and joyful sheninigans. Therefore, in present day, as a Black Haitian-Canadian living in the primarily English-speaking United States, and bringing a daughter into the world in this country,  a noticeable  fear (ie. I notice this fear in me)— has been that all her beautiful ethnic heritage will get absorbed by  the predominance of majority culture, both ethnically and linguistically. To give credence to this fear, is also a reality that my husband and I often find ourselves to be the minorities in a variety of settings. 

where ethnicity and faith intersect:
teaching my daughter in the Haitian-Christian tradition

From our past work as college campus ministers to certain church settings where we have been called by the Lord, the  pre-dominant majority culture has prevailed. If often feels like we lose more than everyone else. Now, I’m not one to play a “victim” role, but that’s how it sometimes feels. No matter how much we try to influence majority culture, and attempt to bring multiethnic nuances, it often feels like 5 steps forward, 3 steps back – yet I must face the fact, that is the context in which we are bringing our daughter on a regular basis. And this can bring about fear for even this strong Black Haitian-Canadian woman. After all, it’s not my heart for her to not know even a smidgen of my distinct Haitian-Christian worldview, shaped by my own parents and family. And while her’s is simply a different identity, than my own, and I recognize that I can’t re-live my childhood vicariously through her, I am reminded, even as I write here today and understand on a whole new level, that God allowed Hadassa to be born into this family. In our family. To my husband and I. With parents who are from a different ethnic culture than the majority/white culture. And that is a beautiful thing. A God-ordained thing.  Not only do I not have to live in fear, I realize that what the Lord has for me to teach my beautiful girl, He has for me, specifically to teach. In fact, He has even mandated that we (my husband and I) be the ones to be her primary teachers in a big world that can oft-times be a confusing cultural haze.

So teach her I will. I desire to make sure that she will know the joys and encouragement of boldly sharing your testimony as soon as you can talk. (That’s the Haitian way!) I will be sure to instill into her, at a very young age the power of praise and worship – that demons indeed tremble at the Name of Jesus as Scripture teaches. She will know the freedom of prayer and song, the two intertwined as she comes before God. I am excited to teach her a bazillion children songs of praise and just great nursery rhymes that I learned when I was a child. Popular French songs such as “Sur Le Pont d’Avignon”, and “As-tu-vu la casquette.” And the famous “Alouette, gentil Alouette”.

where faith & ethnicity intersects:
the most important truth for this mother in the midst of a growing multi-ethnic church community

 I also want to teach her to avoid some of the typical pitfalls of religiosity or legalism such as the long list of don’ts that some of us Haitian kids, sometimes grew up with. (In case you’re wondering what these were –-don’t wear pants, don’t wear make-up, don’t go the movies, and certainly, don’t ever ever go on dates – (I guess they expected us to just magically marry :)). I want to focus instead on God’s grace that is greater than all of our sins, and teach my daughter, that there is no greater or smaller sin, and that she will always be loved more than her “greatest” sin.

Even though we often do find ourselves led by the Holy Spirit to be a part of ministries where black people are in the minority, I am deeply encouraged to be a part of a homechurch whose desire seeks to reflect more fully God’s global and diverse Kingdom. Where we have a devoted Christ-centered Pastor (a white man) who is not afraid to share power and influence with the Director of Worship (a black man – who also happens to be my husband). As we continue to respond to God’s call to often be catalysts of newly racially reconciled multi-ethnic communities, above all, I want my daughter to know that her FIRST identity is beloved child of God. That she is made uniquely, with purpose, as a beautiful black girl, with a beautiful part to play in God’s Kingdom. If I don’t do anything else right as her mother, I want to be sure to instill in her this first and most important truth, that Jesus died and rose for her, and loves her more deeply than she can ever understand, and that this reality surpasses all others. That she is the daughter of a King. My trust is in Jesus alone to accomplish this. I am full of His confidence that He who started me on this journey of motherhood, will bring it to pass. And so I end, in the sing-song voice that I sing with gusto to my baby girl  on a daily basis:  Maman t’aime, Maman t’aime, Maman t’aime – mais Jésus t’aime plus! (Momma loves you, Momma loves you, Momma loves you – but Jesus loves you more)! And I think I hear her now, shrieking with laughter, as she always does, at the godly, hilariously joyful thought.

-Achlaï