“Why Bad Bunny Doesn’t Owe You English”

“Why Bad Bunny Doesn’t Owe You English”

Some of you are complaining because Bad Bunny did not sing in English. Honestly—get over it.

When Jay-Z, Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, Michael Jackson, Ed Sheeran, Coldplay, Adele, and countless other artists tour in non-English-speaking countries, what language do they sing in? English. They perform in English to predominantly non-English-speaking audiences, and no one demands that they switch languages to accommodate the crowd.

The English language does not humanize people, nor does it confer dignity. Language is not a measure of worth. Music itself is a universal language.

For the past three days, I spent over four hours listening to Bad Bunny sing in Spanish. Guess what? I enjoyed every minute of it.

Because appreciation, respect, and human connection don’t require English.

“The English Language DOES NOT Humanize the Haitian People”

“The English Language DOES NOT Humanize the Haitian People”

The American academic world produces some of the most arrogant and selfish academics and thinkers in the world. Because most American scholars and historians write and publish in the English language the same history or story that’s already been published by Haitian/African/Caribbean writers who write in French or Spanish, they give more intellectual value to their own work simply because it is written in English, and it is not because they are assessed as quality scholarship or good research. I call this attitude “intellectual imperialism” relating to the politics of the American Empire in the world to undermine the intellectual and literary productions of writers and historians in the Global South or developing world. Haiti, because of its complex history with the United States and the West, as well as with American and Western academics and writers, is a primary victim of this intellectual climate.

  1. Some of them (American academics) do not even bother to cite, for example, Haitian writers who have written on the same issue 50 years ago before they were even born or received an American doctoral (research) degree. C’mon, good people: you cannot just pretend that Haitian historians and writers did not exist in the 18th century, or nobody in Haiti wrote about Haitian national history or Haitian intellectual history from 18thto 20th century, for example.
  2. Haitian historians, writers, and scholars have been marginalized in their own discipline (s) of study, especially those who write in French about Haitian national history and Haitian political history.
  3. Not because one writes in English for an English-speaking (or American) audience means that individual has to deliberately disengage with a body of scholarship produced in a different language. It is intellectual dishonesty not to give credit or acknowledge intellectual predecessors. For example, you do not give Haitian studies legitimacy because it is done in the English language by American writers, nor do you humanize the Haitian people because you write in English about Haiti and the Haitian experience. Here, I am not referring to Haitian-born writers or those of Haitian descent who write or produce in English. This is not my point here!
  4. Unfortunately, in the American academia, producing academic works in the English language does come with academic entitlement or pedigree; nonetheless, I have to state that English as a language does not make one naturally more intelligent than others who write in a different language. I know this is a popular attitude among Americans, even among some American academics that speaking or writing in English is connected with high civilization or culture, intelligence, and fame. By contrast, I also understand writing in English comes with a great deal of academic privileges and reputation because the English language has now become more connected with the politics and expansion of the United States as the world’s most powerful country and empire today. Interestingly, this is a colonial practice in American academia. Such attitude needs to go, what we call decolonization or decolonial practice (See Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, “Decolonising the Mind,” 1986)
  5. Nobody expects American academics to be fluent (In fact, some of you are fluent in other languages) in French, Spanish, Kreyòl, Swahili, Swahili, Yoruba, Igbo, Fula, or another language than your native tongue: English. At least, if you are going to work or specialize on a non-English speaking country as a scholar or academic specialist, it is important to try to “read in translation” or even to “cite in translation.” Or you can seek the help of an expert. DO NOT JUST IGNORE THE NATIVE WRITERS and THEIR INTELLECTUAL PRODUCTIONS!
  6. Interestingly, American academics do not express this same attitude toward, for example, French, German, or English writers or historians. This is a rare tradition if they are writing about the history and experience of any of the countries in the West: Germany, France, Italy, England, Spain, Switzerland, etc. Haiti and Haitian writers, for example, continue to be victims of this tradition.
    How to move forward and change this BAD academic practice in America’s intellectual or academic landscape. I want to use Haiti, as an example. Haitian writers and historians have written prolifically and produced good works about some of the key issues in Haitian national history:

· The Haitian Revolution
· Haiti’s colonial history/Slavery and colonization in Haiti
· Haitian resistance to slavery and Western imperialism
· France’s economic exploitation of Haiti (the indemnity/the debt)
· The 1860 revolution
· American military occupation and invasion in Haiti (1915-1934)
· The rise of Haitian radicalism and Marxism in the 20thcentury
· The rise of Feminist movement in Haiti
· Haiti’s popular culture
· The foreign relations between Haiti, the United States, and the West
· The Duvalier regime
· The Aristide phenomenon and the 2nd American military invasion in Haiti
· Haitian Vodou
· Haitian anthropology and ethnology
· The politics of NGOS in Haiti
· Haiti’s economic development and dependency
· Haiti’s public health system
· Haiti’s education system
· Haiti’s environmental issue

Below, I highlight some of the major Haitian writers and thinkers to get acquainted with their writings, especially those published in the French language. For each historical period, I list 30 to 45 well-known writers and thinkers.

A. The 19th century

  1. Louis Félix Mathurin (“Boisrond-Tonnerre”
  2. Pompée Valentin Vastey (“Baron de Vastey”)
  3. Hérard Dumesle
  4. Joseph Saint Remy
  5. Anténor Firmin
  6. Beaubrun Ardouin
  7. Coriolan Ardouin
  8. Celigny Ardouin
  9. B. Lepinasse
  10. Antone Dupre
  11. Jean-Baptiste Romane
  12. J. Leger
  13. Démesvar Delorme
  14. Bénito Sylvain
  15. Louis-Joseph Janvier
  16. F.É. Dubois
  17. Thomas Madiou
  18. Frederic Marcelin
  19. Hannibal Price
  20. Pauléus Sannon
  21. Etzer Vilaire
  22. Justin Lhérisson
  23. Juste Chanlatte
  24. Jules Solime Milscent
  25. Massillon Coicou
  26. Ignace Nau
  27. Emeric Bergeaud
  28. P. Lochard
  29. Oswald Durand
  30. Antoine Innocent

B. The 20th century

  1. Marie Vieux-Chauvet
  2. Duracine Vaval
  3. Dantès Bellegarde
  4. François Duvalier
  5. Paulette Poujol-Oriol
  6. Marie-Thérèse Colimon-Hall
  7. Jean Price-Mars
  8. Jacques Roumain
  9. Jacques Stephen Alexis
  10. René Depestre
  11. Alfred Auguste Nemours
  12. Horace Pauleus Sannon
  13. Henock Trouillot
  14. Michel-Rolph Trouillot
  15. Ernst Trouillot
  16. Jean Fouchard
  17. Gérard Mentor Laurent
  18. Madeleine Sylvain-Bouchereau
  19. Suzanne Comhaire-Sylvain
  20. Pradel Pompilus
  21. Laennec Hurbon
  22. Fernand Hibbert
  23. Jean-Baptiste Cineas
  24. Philippe Thoby-Marcalin
  25. Pierre Thoby-Marcalin
  26. J. C. Dorsainvil
  27. Leon Laleau
  28. Catts Pressoir
  29. Louis Borno
  30. Roger Gaillard
  31. Normil Sylvain
  32. Cleante Valcin
  33. Suzy Castor
  34. Roussan Camille
  35. Edris Saint-Amand
  36. Ida Salomon Faubert
  37. Jacques Stephen Alexis
  38. Franketienne
  39. Jean Cassimir
  40. Morisseau-Leroy
  41. Ghislain Gouraige
  42. Edwidge Danticat
  43. Dany Laferrière
  44. Jean F. Brière
  45. Carl Brouard
  46. Georges Sylvain
  47. Felix Morisseaux
  48. George Anglande
  49. Christophe Philippe-Charles
  50. Anthony Phelps
  51. René Philoctète
  52. Laroche Maximilien
  53. Enock Trouillot
  54. Georges Corvington
  55. Gergard Barthemy
  56. Roger Dorsainvil
  57. Leslie F. Manigat
  58. Catts Pressoir
  59. Roger Gaillard
  60. Timoléon C. Brutus
  61. Damase Pierre-Louis

C. Late 20th century and early 21st century

  1. Patrick Bellegarde-Smith
  2. Danny Laferriere
  3. Georges Castera
  4. Louis Philippe Dalenbert
  5. Evelyn Trouillot
  6. Josaphat Robert Large
  7. Marie-Celie Agnant
  8. Yanick Lahens
  9. Jessica Fievre
  10. Felix Morisseaux
  11. Kettly Mars
  12. Lyonel Trouillot
  13. Odette Roy Fombrun
  14. Roussan Camille
  15. Jean-Bertrand Aristide
  16. Lemete Zephyr
  17. Robert Fatton
  18. Alex Dupuy
  19. . Edwidge Danticat
  20. Michel S. Laguerre
  21. Myriam J. A. Chancy
  22. Patrick Bellegarde-Smith
  23. Laennec Hurbon
  24. Louis-Philippe Dalembert
  25. Gary Victor

*** Of course, I am missing other influential thinkers in my list and may have repeated some writers twice. I wrote this post in response to a series of important articles published in the New York Times (“The Ransom: 6 Takeaways About Haiti’s Reparations to France”; “The Ransom: A Look Under the Hood”; Investigating Haiti’s ‘Double Debt”; “The Root of Haiti’s Misery: Reparations to Enslavers”). Please do not misunderstand the intent of my post! As an academic, I clearly understand academic scholarship is a teamwork that engages the labor of other scholars, for which I am thankful. I also understand academics or scholars depend on previous works done by others to further their own contribution in the field of study or advance knowledge in a particular discipline–hopefully toward the common good and human flourishing in the world. In other words, no one works in isolation, and no one can claim intellectual monopoly when it comes to academic studies, research, and epistemology. Yet we must not ignore those who are writing on the margins and work predominantly from the context of a developing country in the Global South. Their work matters! Their ideas are worth citing (in English)! Their contribution is worth acknowledging in public.

There are actually existing “traditions,” a reference to the way of thinking, intellectual practices, and of perceiving and interpreting the Haitian world and other worlds in Haitian history, and those traditions encompass various worldviews, and fields of study and different areas in the human and Haitian experience, including literary, religious, historical, political, philosophical, and ideological traditions.
It is my idea of the “Haitian canon.” In the same way, throughout the Haitian history, since its birth in 1804, there existed movements, such as labor, feminist, economic, human rights, political movements that have shaped the human experience in Haiti. Haitian writers and historians have documented their own histories and stories, experiences and living conditions, and such (literary) receipts could be traced to the country’s first piece of writing: Haiti’s Declaration of Independence (1 January 1804). In other words, Haitian writers have not been silenced about the Haitian experience in the world.

Haitians: Your Future & Worth Are Greater Than TPS

Haitians: Your Future & Worth Are Greater Than TPS

Today is not the end of your story or your humanity.
TPS may expire, but your dreams and your purpose remain alive.

Your future is not defined by paperwork.
You are more than a government card.
You are loved. You have dignity. You are strong. You are brave.

You have already overcome so much: dehumanization, humiliation, and alienation in a foreign land. The same courage and determination that carried you this far will carry you into what comes next.

Your future—and the future of your children—are still full of hope, promise, and possibility.
Your gifts are still needed.
Your skills are necessary.
Your knowledge is valuable.
Your dreams are still valid.

Keep your head up!
Stay connected in community.
Don’t let despair overwhelm you.
Keep faith. Believe in God.
Support one another. Seek new paths and new opportunities.
Refuse despair.
Reject dehumanization.

This tragic moment will not define your humanity. Your resilience and determination will keep you moving forward.

“The Man Who Lives in My Night”

“The Man Who Lives in My Night”

After he leaves her for another woman,
after he teaches her to believe
she is no longer worthy
of love,
of being chosen,
of being his first smile at dawn,
or the quiet echo before his morning thought.

She replaces him with pain,
an old companion,
someone who whispered her name in the dark.
It stays with her through the long nights,
faithful in ways he was not.
She does not trade it for sunlight.
Pain knows her address,
memorizing her phone number.

She learns to stand with the ache.
Not despising its qualities.
a familiar presence in quiet moments,
an inescapable force in her dreaming hours.
She learns to live with it,
learning new rhythms,
carving quiet spaces between the two.

He is the only one who did not leave.
She keeps the hurt like a vow.
not because it is holy,
but because it is familiar.
In her world,
he is the lover who stayed,
faithful as the ache,
her only inheritance of the night.

Every smile she borrows,
every drop of joy,
does not truly belong to her.
Temporary,
a gift borrowed from a daylight,
nor imagine another future.
She settles into the deep darkness,
not wishing for the light,
nor even the peace that follows the ache.

Her pain lives in the silence.
She carries its weight as if it were
her name,
her identity,
her inheritance,
and somehow,
it becomes her freedom,
folded inside the ache.

He is the man who lives in my night.

“Pain Is Not My Name”

“Pain Is Not My Name”

Pain has become her identity.
Yet hope remains beautiful,
even when misplaced,
even when it keeps old wounds breathing.

She gives meaning to her romantic pain,
turning heartbreak into a sacred story.

She does not date with her heart.
She bonds with her soul.
She carries her own pain
and the pain of the one who left
without a goodbye.

Still, she remains emotionally on call for him.
Her body misses attachment.
Her heart misses familiarity.
Yet she resists the truth:
he no longer chooses her.

She loved without limits,
without the boundaries romance requires.
She lingered in pain too long,
until she became the wounded lover,
until sorrow stared back from the mirror,
until depression began to feel like home.

But she will learn:
loving does not mean enduring.
Love does not require self-erasure.

Love can change form.
Love does not have to become a prison.
If love is not serving her healing,
if it is not feeding her soul,
she must release it.

She must choose freedom over memory,
emotional growth over attachment,
future over familiarity,
life over loss.

“Where Our Eyes No Longer Meet”

“Where Our Eyes No Longer Meet”

How am I supposed to go on
without you?
You slipped into distance,
into a place where our eyes will no longer meet,
where our gazes cannot find each other anymore.

I will miss your smile,
the way it greeted me at dawn,
arriving before my first morning breath,
my words whispering your name
across the room.
I will miss your voice
when you are not near,
especially in the quiet moments
when we are just by ourselves,
when I reach for you
and you are not there.

I will miss holding your hand,
letting my fingers memorize your face,
learning again and again
the language of your skin,
breathing in the familiar scent of your body.

I am still trying to understand
how love can ask someone to forget,
to leave without thinking twice,
how two hearts can stand at a crossroads—
the crossroads of joy and pain—
and choose different futures.
I loved you beyond forever,
if such a place even still exists
in our world.

Are you leaving to find freedom,
to forget what once held us together?
Or are you going away to escape
the presence of our love?

Maybe this love was not meant to stay forever,
but it was real while it lived.
Maybe what we shared was not permanent,
but it was true while it breathed.
And even if it could not last,
it was strong enough
to leave a forever-shaped space
inside of us.

“I Chose You Over Forever”

“I Chose You Over Forever”

I traded eternity for your presence.
Loving you became an act of rebellion,
rewriting every law I knew
costing me everything I had
bending the universe against me.

I carved two hearts into the sun
so the world would know our love exists.
I sailed a hundred thousand miles
through warring storms and thunder
just to find you,
just to bring you home.

I traveled backward through time,
changing myself to return
to the first steps we ever took together,
to know what you were thinking,
to relive our first kiss
exactly as it fell.

I think of nothing at all
so I can be free to think only of you.
I stayed perfectly still
to quiet the anxiety in your heart.
I tasted the sweetness of your soul
inside a dream,
just to be sure
you would be alright.

“Letters for the Hidden Face”

“Letters for the Hidden Face”

As a bee searches for nectar,
she trusts the flower that nourishes her.
As a parrot learns the language of humans,
she risks error,
the fragment of sound:
mispronunciation,
misunderstanding,
the ache of being heard imperfectly.

I search for you
in hidden places,
not because I do not desire safety,
but because love has taught me risk—
how to loosen my grip on comfort,
how to call surrender devotion,
how to rename control as connection.

I give myself away
in small poetic gestures,
sacred ways
to hold you once more,
to touch your face,
If only for a moment
you refuse to name.

Why do you keep hiding your face from me,
when you know this love,
though imperfect,
is honest,
and stands naked before your eyes,
asking only to be seen?

You choose secrecy.
I make my love known.
You choose silence.
I answer with poetry.
You love in whispers
and call it protection.
I write you love letters
and risk the world
knowing my name through yours.

You let this love burn inside me
without asking
how much it hurts—
how this passion unravels me,
how heavily it weighs,
how much of myself
it consumes.

Like a house set ablaze
from the entrance room,
like a burning bush
that devours my flesh.

It suffocates my breath,
drains my ability
to love anew,
to write the poems
that would keep you
living.

“Light That Carries Us”

“Light That Carries Us”

Do you remember the first time I saw you?
When you looked at me,
I felt it then—
my life had begun.

This first gaze became the light that carries us,
a symbol of the love that remains and thrives.
It whispers across time,
a love that knows the way,
a quiet strength in times of trouble.

That single feeling
carried me forward,
sustaining a lifetime of love.

Even when life’s challenges
reshaped the road we walked,
your faithful love
remained my anchor.

Though we could not live
the love we imagined,
nor reach the future we once dreamed,
We hold the memories we created:
gentle, enduring,
a lifetime in one gaze.

They still inspire hope,
still awaken joy,
whispering that one day
true love will find us again,
together,
as a couple.