Haiti has a complicated relationship with its own official languages.
On one hand, it has French: imposed by colonists, spoken by the educated elite, and the language of instruction in most Haitian schools.
On the other hand, it has Kreyòl: born out of slavery, understood by every Haitian, but rarely printed or read.
And they don’t exactly coexist peacefully.
As I was writing last month’s blog post I asked myself, “Should I get into the tension between French and Kreyòl? Is it really that important to think about the politics of language in Haiti?”
Ultimately I held off for length’s sake. But the problem kept nagging at me, particularly when I got a few responses from readers who knew what I’d left out.
So, here we go. October is actually the perfect month for this discussion, because it’s International Creole Month. October 28th is designated as International Creole Day, and it’s a big deal in several French Caribbean countries such as St. Lucia and Dominica. People line the streets dressed in traditional clothing, children sing songs in Kreyòl, and cultural performances celebrate the language and its history. Each year Dominica hosts the ultimate celebration, the World Creole Music Festival, which attracts thousands of tourists. (Sadly this year’s festival has been canceled because of the damage inflicted by Hurricane Maria).
But Haiti, the country with the world’s highest concentration of Kreyòl speakers, rarely participates in any official capacity. Why? Well, one reason could be that lot of the Haitians who are in the position to organize such a celebration, actually don’t find Kreyòl worth celebrating.
Some Haitians, particularly the educated, have an inferiority complex about their native language. To them, Kreyòl is an uncomfortable reminder of their origins as slaves of the French. In fact, they may see Kreyòl as nothing more than “broken French,” a corruption of a language that they view as more legitimate.
But to others, Kreyòl is a token of their ancestors’ successful efforts to unite and overthrow their masters. They see the language as a key aspect of their unique history and culture. These are the people who would be more likely to celebrate International Creole Day, but they also tend to be the people with less political power.
So, think about what it means for us to be learning Kreyòl as a second language and committing to interacting with Haitians in their native tongue. Through our actions, we’re acknowledging Kreyòl’s legitimacy.
So Happy International Creole Day! Ann selebre bèl lang sa a.
Written by Megan Pearson on October 20, 2017