Unity in Diversity

By Robine Jean-Pierre

During spring break, I went on a three day “unity retreat” in Pennsylvania through an organization called Seekers Christian Fellowships. I am currently the president of the Seekers club here at City Tech, so I definitely made it a priority to be there and represent. It was an amazing experience and I wish I could have spent the whole week there!

One of the purposes of this event was to assemble high school and college students from various Seekers-affiliated schools so they could make new friends and explore their faith together. We would be unified through relationships that transcended differences in age, gender, background, and career path.

The strong cultural diversity apparent on the retreat was quite remarkable. We had students and staff with ethnic backgrounds representing India, Sri Lanka, Korea, Jamaica, Haiti, Colombia, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Uganda, and more.

At any given moment, one of us was cracking a racially/culturally fueled joke that was borderline inappropriate (if not for the fact that people mostly joked about their own respective cultures, not really anyone else’s). From memory, here are a few examples of the intriguing, humorous statements I heard:
“It would be disappointing if we met Hispanic people who weren’t loud.”
“Indians are even louder! Have you ever been to an Indian party?”
“Look. I’m Hispanic and I’m crazy, so…”
“I’m Korean. Waking up early is easy for me.”
“He’s not even real Indian–he’s Sri Lankan.”

A Seekers friend of ours had even remarked once that our Korean and Ugandan staff members reminded him of Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker, respectively; when I told one of them this joke during the retreat, he was deeply amused.

Sometimes the boundaries were almost crossed when people of different ethnic backgrounds tried to mimic each other’s accents, but if the person did a good job, it was praised; if not, you could feel the awkwardness which quickly dissipated in laughter.

More serious, personal comments also provoked cultural awareness in some way. For example, our Korean staff member told us about how his dad was so strict that if he came home with a 98 on an assignment, he would be very disappointed and ask, “Where are the other two points?” He also mentioned the fact that he was the first Asian person his acquaintance from the Midwest had ever met in the flesh (as opposed to on TV). Our Colombian director explained that a lot of people thought she was white when she wasn’t, yet she had siblings whose complexions were every color of the rainbow. One college student opened up about how Indian parents tended to be loving but also fiercely overprotective.

Although not every ethnicity was represented on the retreat, I was grateful to be exposed to so many different cultures and learn more through both lighthearted and serious conversation. Being able to understand and relate to other cultures can be so helpful in promoting peace and unity, starting with the interactions of just two people. As Seekers members, this is especially crucial to our common Christian belief that God loves everyone (not just specific people groups) and wants us to do the same.

I’ve Got the Keys

By Robine Jean-Pierre

Growing up, I heard Haitian Creole and English spoken interchangeably at home. My knowledge of Creole started off as a collection of simple words and phrases pertaining to cuisine, the household, and hygiene. Unfortunately, I soon developed the regrettable habit of hearing a question or statement in Haitian Creole and responding in English. As a result, I’ve always understood more Creole than I can actually speak.

Taking up French in sixth grade drastically increased my Creole vocabulary. Many people I’ve come across expected it to be the other way around–in other words, that knowing Creole first would have helped me learn French. (My eighth grade French teacher used to exclude me from competitive games during class because she thought I had an unfair advantage.) In truth, my analytical mind started to make connections between the original French terms and the cognates that derived from these. For example, du riz in French means “[some/of] rice” and I realized that this was where the Creole diri came from. (If you’re interested in more on this, consider reading  An Nou PalĂŠ – Let’s Talk.)

By the end of high school, I had taken French for six years and Spanish for about two (just for fun, since I loved it so much), so that means I have four languages under my belt. However, I’d be lying if I said I could speak each one (aside from English) 100% fluently! This fact embarrasses me, and I often ask myself, Is it the flawed education system? Is it me? Did I ever really learn?

The answer is simple: PRACTICE. For all my theory and knowledge and textbook smarts, I have not always taken advantage of real-life opportunities to practice–and by this I mean live, on-the-spot, spoken communication. I figure that if I’m not speaking Creole as fluently as I’d like to, it’s because of my own timidity, but most heritage speakers have the same struggle. I was always afraid that I would be mocked for pronouncing something wrong or fumbling a sentence, which kept me from trying. (Being condescending is somewhat ingrained in Haitian culture, so my fears were well-grounded.)

It bothers me that I am familiar, yet not fluent, with these three languages other than English (LOTEs); but what I need is to get bothered enough to actually do something about it. Plus, nothing pushes you more than having a sense of “need” rather than just “want.” I’ve been considering multiple measures: getting language-learning apps like DuoLingo; finding friends who speak the desired language and striking up a conversation; and replying in Creole to my family’s questions (which, of course, would take a whole lot of guts).

For French and Creole, especially, I know that most of the words are stored up in my brain somewhere, so it’s just a matter of excavating them. My worst nightmare would be to lose what it took so many years to learn, especially since it’s harder to learn new things as you get older. In the future, I hope to travel to communities that speak any of the three LOTEs, and be able to communicate comfortably. Languages are like keys that open the doors to other worlds, and I wish to hold onto those keys as tightly as I can.

Five Expressions in Haitian Creole That You Could Pull Off in English

by Robine Jean-Pierre

A linguist at heart, I cringe whenever I come across poorly translated phrases. While I am not fully fluent in all of them, I am familiar with Haitian Creole, French and Spanish, so I often find instances in which the fluidity, wit or meaning of a phrase gets lost when going from one language to another. It is also disappointing to hear a bi- or polylingual person trying to grasp for a term in their native tongue, saying, “It’s like… you know… well, I don’t know how you’d say it in English.” The feeling of exclusion that this provokes leaves me unsatisfied, and I believe that the language barrier can always be crossed, even when it comes to complex things like metaphors and idioms. The key is to translate for the meaning or essence of a word or phrase, even if at the expense of the actual words being used.

Haitian Creole is full of colorful, comical idioms, and I have often entertained myself by undertaking the task of finding their English equivalents. As I said, this is only effective if you go by meaning and not translation verbatim. I will give five examples (though I cannot guarantee I’ve spelled them all correctly).

1. Lè Ti Poul Fè Dan

The expression, “lè ti poul fè dan” in Creole literally means “when chicks teethe.” It is an informal way of responding “Never” to a question, since we know that chicks have beaks and will never grow teeth. If you said this in English, word for word, you would probably get a strange look from the person who asked the question, but never fear, we have the similar English expression, “When pigs fly.”

2. Mete Dlo Nan Diven Ou

“Mete dlo nan diven ou” is an expression that literally means “put [some] water in your wine.” This is a figurative way of telling someone to calm down; parents would say this to children that are acting up. It makes sense when you think of wine as something fiery and provocative, and that watering it down will diminish its strength. This is reminiscent of Bart Simpson’s “Cool your jets, man” (The Simpsons) or the simpler “Take it easy.”

3. Achte Figi Moun

“Achte figi moun” literally means “to buy someone’s face.” Think you can figure it out? You would have slim chances of hearing this in English word for word. This expression touches on the ideas of bribery and flattery, and would most closely link up with “kiss up to someone,” “suck up to” or “brown-nose.” I have mostly heard it used with a touch of infamous Haitian pride: “M’pa achte figi moun” (“I don’t kiss up to people”).

4. Ret Na Wòl Ou

“Ret na wòl ou” is actually not too far from English. It literally means “stay in your role” but links up with our “stay in your lane.” In other words, respect yourself and don’t overstep your boundaries.

5. Li Pa Gen Nen Nan Figi Li

“Li pa gen nen nan figi li” is not something you would want to hear someone say about you behind your back. The literal translation is “He/she doesn’t have a nose on his/her face.” It means that someone has no sense of dignity, pride or shame, like the archetypal nerd who keeps trying to join the cool kids’ clique even after numerous bold-faced rejections. (Maybe it comes from the idea that if this person did have a nose, he would immediately sense the obvious, kind of like when we say “You wouldn’t know __ if it hit you right between the eyes!”) After giving it a lot of thought, the only similar expressions that come to mind are “he’s a sucker” and “he hasn’t got a clue.”

The cleverness or “punch” of a phrase does not have to be sacrificed when you translate it from one language to another. Neither does the beauty of song lyrics or poetry. We may all speak different languages and belong to various cultures, but emotions and ideas are not limited to specific people groups. They are the universal building blocks of the human experience, and a bridge can always be made where there is understanding and effort.

Any funny expressions come to mind, either in English or another language? Please feel free to share in a comment below.

Are You Proud to Be an American?

By Robine Jean-Pierre

In a modern, globalized world, “Where are you from?” is a very common question to encounter. Oddly enough, I have remarked that when people ask it, they usually mean, “What is your ethnicity?” or “What are your roots?” rather than “What is your nationality?” or “Where were you born (and raised)?”

Because of this double meaning, some would answer, “I’m from here [America]” (which would often elicit a face-palm or a “no, that’s not what I meant”), but many would more readily respond, “I’m from Jamaica” or “I’m Mexican” or “I’m Italian,” even though they were all born and raised here, on U.S. soil; some have never even been to their respective “motherlands.”

Growing up, I had a hard time answering this question because I did not know the correct response. Am I Haitian? In terms of nationality, no, because I was born here. Am I American? Yes, but if you were to trace back my lineage, even by one generation, it would go right back to Haiti. Am I Haitian-American? That seems just about right, but isn’t that what you would call someone who has one Haitian parent and one American parent?

The irony is that, even if I identify as Haitian, if I were to go to Haiti right now, they would call me American without a second thought. Something would give me away–either my accent, mannerisms, or the way I dress. In fact, they would even call me a diaspora, which is a condescending term for someone who does not live in Haiti (even if he or she was born there) and comes to visit. You see, then, why such a simple question can be so complicated.

So what does it mean to be American? It’s not really in my jurisdiction to give a definitive answer, especially in light of the tension surrounding some of our president’s latest political decisions. Highlighting the trends that I have noticed, you are considered American here if (a) you were born here and live here; or if you are a descendant of (b) the original European settlers, (c) the indigenous pre-colonial peoples whom we call “Native Americans,” (d) the African slaves brought over during colonial times; or finally (e) if the generations before you have been here long enough and nothing else applies. (For the sake of argument, I distinguish this from the topic of American citizenship.) I am not saying that any of these are right or wrong answers, but that this is the general consensus I have gotten from listening to others discuss this topic.

So my question is this: why do so many of us seem to refrain from identifying as American, even if we fall into one or more of those categories? I can think of two possibilities. The first is ethnocentrism. For first generation Americans, the pressure to disdain American culture is usually externally imposed. Imagine, for example, a girl named Lola, whose parents were born and raised in the Dominican Republic. Lola was born and raised in the U.S. and does not speak Spanish fluently or know how to cook Dominican food. However, her relatives who were born in the D.R. brag about their experience and knowledge of their culture. They tease her for not knowing how to dance bachata at family gatherings. Whether deliberately or unwittingly, those relatives imply that they are the true Dominicans, while Lola is just a cheap imitation. Little by little, they paint her view of being American as inferior, bland, and boring.

The second possibility is a deliberate contempt for this nation and its heritage. The lack of patriotism is easy to find: people despise the greed infused in capitalism; the waste of food, water, and other natural resources; the hypocrisy of the government; and the brutal nature of its foundation, spearheaded by miscreants like Christopher Columbus. Looking at America from a distance, this land might be a beacon of hope and opportunity for some, but it is certainly an object of ridicule and mockery for others. Who would be eager to metaphorically wave their American flag under these conditions?

The irony is that, while this nation does have its undeniable injustices, so many people have come here seeking freedom, and then they use that very same freedom to deride the country that provides it. They have nothing but negative to say about America, yet they continue to attend its schools, take advantage of its welfare programs, and practice free enterprise. There are so many things people take for granted, so many laws and institutions and privileges here that are either fully corrupt or nonexistent in other countries.

Whether you wish to identify as American or not, I will say this: if you are here, make the most of it. No government is perfect, because governments consist of people, and people are not perfect. Embracing your American identity does not mean you sign off on everything our president is doing. It does not mean you are renouncing your family’s heritage, or that you stand for slavery, genocide, or other elements of this country’s dark past and present. Cynicism will only get you so far in life. “We the people of the United States” (as it says in the preamble of the U.S. Constitution) can truly affect change if we put our minds to it. A good place to start would be to reclaim our American spirit.

the preamble to the U.S. Constitution written on a scroll

http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Know-The-Preamble-To-The-United-States-Constitution/2690633

 

The Reality of Food Racism

There is discrimination currently taking place in the culinary world. One that believes or suggests that chefs should only cook food that is within their own ethnic groups in order to be culturally just. Many believe that chefs should never venture from their realm of cuisine because their palate is best designed towards that genre of food. This has led to uproar and racial disagreement on what chefs can specifically cook for a living in a respectful manner.

This controversy more specifically surrounds Rick Bayless, an Oklahoman chef who has built an entire career around cooking Mexican style food. While many support Bayless and respect his love of cooking an array of Mexican delicacies, some are completely against how he is profiting from a world of food that is in no relation to him as they feel that it is a form of privilege to the Caucasian race.

Rick Bayless plating a meal

Image by: Adam Goldberg

Many, unfortunately, still disagree with Bayless because they believe that the profit that he has made from cooking Mexican food for a living is exceeding more than a Mexican would make while cooking their cuisine. He has become highly criticized for his style of cooking as many feeling that he should not be able to be proficient in his career of cooking from a completely different race of cuisine.

Yet, it still seems racist to disapprove of Bayless because of his race despite his passion for Mexican cuisine although it may question the validity of the authenticity of his food, he still has a right to cook whatever food that he wants to cook. I feel that he is only being swarmed with this backlash because it involves a minority because I have seen a variety of cultures be able to work, cook, and serve French food and no one has questioned the authenticity of it. It is frustrating that in every aspect of our lives, we are unfortunately faced with racism because we are not accepting towards diversity instead we are almost frightened by it. So we argue and make stereotypical guidelines for what seems correct or normal in order to not offend or immense ourselves in a world that accepts everyone regardless of their race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender, et cetera because it feels easier to exclude than to include.

Comment below on your stance on this culinary scandal regarding renowned chef Rick Bayless.