1) It’s okay to unload your burden. In the Haitian culture, you don’t talk about certain problems; especially those that can potentially reflect poorly on the family. Someone gets arrested, you act like it didn’t happen. Someone gets kicked out of school, you find some story to explain what happened. I understand that thisncones from living in tight-knit communities, but even then it’s not a healthy way to deal with problems. When you’re stressed you need the support of others who genuinely care for you. If you can’t share with anyone you know, then seek professional help (another huge taboo).

2) Question authority. Okay, historically speaking Haitians have a valid reason for taking issue with authority. But somehow, once they immigrate to foreign countries, they become hesistant to do so. Whatever the “law” says goes. Hence, they rarely get involved in community activism and are often afraid to speak out when they see something wrong happening. Immigrants are so easily abused because of their legal status and that fear doesn’t necessarily go away once your status does. I think there are ways that we as a community can start teaching our children, and others around us that it’s not only OK to denounce crimes, it’s our duty.

3) Be curious/creative. A lot of kids from my generation grew up thinking the only way to make your parents proud was to become a doctor, lawyer or an engineer. Creative professions were never considered. I think many people find out what it is that makes them happy by being curious – or wondering what it would be like to [fill in the blank]. I’m encouraging my kids to think about every profession, thoroughly, which is something many young Americans have been forced to do during the Great Recession.

4) Hold other to the same standards you hold yourself. When I took my trip to Boston last week, there were certain people *ahem* family members, who thought that it was irresponsible to leave my children behind. Reason being: I’m the mother and fathers can never be trusted to take care of children. WTF?! Well, I don’t buy this and even though I missed them like crazy, I think the time apart was good for us. How else will the appreciate all the crap I do  This one is more of a gender equality change, but I think it boils down to this, if I expect someone to be able to cook, clean, raise kids, etc., I should be able to do it, too. As with any skill, one of us may be better at it, but that doesn’t give you a permanent get out of jail free card.

Are any of these traits existent in your culture/family? Do you think they should change?

I used to sit by this very window with him when he was only a few weeks old because he was jaundiced and it was the best window in the house to get direct sunlight…

He could care less about that – especially with the evil pink machine in hand, but we made memories in that house. Maybe that’s why this place feels like home.

So, as we were making our final descent in Miami, I started to get as excited as my little guy who spent the entire 2.5 hours saying “Mommy, we’re flying!” What I initially thought was a feeling of new adventure, was really a comfort in going back to the familiar. Anyone who’s been to Miami International Airport knows that it’s in perpetual construction and there’s always something new – even that felt familiar.

When we were driving on I-95 to go home, which has also had some work done to it in the past 18 months, it all felt the same. I knew the exit signs, I knew how much farther we had to go, I knew the crazy drivers who were going to speed past to get in front of you only to slam on their brakes. Before we even made it home, I finally accepted that the word I’d been avoiding is that this felt like home.

I used to think of myself as a nomad. I had no trouble packing up and moving to a new place when I felt the time was right. I never really felt like I was leaving a home behind, I was simply going to create a new one wherever I went. Well, I don’t know if it’s age or the fact that Venezuelan society is a bit more difficult to infiltrate , but I now know that for the time being, South Florida is where I consider to be my home.

My first few days there were blissful. The humidity was at about 70% and the temperature was over 100F. It was normal…expected. I didn’t want to anything and I wanted to do everything. The latter is what got me into trouble the remainder of my trip. This picture is the view from my bedroom window. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s home (wow, that’s 4 times in one post ).

This time I told her that the person went to heaven. That immediately brought on the questions about what heaven was like, did she now have wings, does she hang out with the angels, etc. I answered as many questions as I could and eventually referred her to her trusty Bible.

In terms of the Haitian culture, there are various ways parents handle telling children about death. Some ignore it completely thinking that the child will eventually forget about the person. Others announce the news indirectly by their own grieving or overheard conversations. I was about my daughter’s age (8 years-old) when my mother first started telling me about people going to heaven. Since I have no recollection of being scared afterwards, I think it was the right time.

My daughter handled this sad news pretty well. She told me she felt sad and later drew a picture of the person in heaven dancing on clouds. I’m going to assume for now that this approach was more conducive to her personality

How do you handle talking to children about death? Do you have any cultural norms or have you developed your own? Do you remember the first time you were told about death?

So, I said to her that it’s impolite to say “Quoi?” when you don’t understand something. The polite response is “Pardon?” or “I beg your pardon?” She said okay and started to walk away. Then something clicked and she turned around to ask me “Why is saying ‘quoi’ impolite?” Oddly enough, I didn’t have the slightest clue.

I then told her that although she thinks that I’ve been alive since the beginning of time – the 1980’s according to her – I don’t know why every single rule was invented. I just follow them…which I suggested she do as well if she wanted her life to be a little easier. I’m all for questioning authority, but I guess when it comes to social norms I take them as they come. This may be because I’ve had to a lot of assimilating in my lifetime and going with the flow is facilitates that much more than fighting the establishment.

Have you ever wondered why certain social customs exist? Did you ever find the answer? If so, please share – a curious 8 year-old will be eternally grateful.