Meet Lindsay Debrosse, a young woman who doesn't limit herself in terms of identity. As a child of Haitian immigrants, Debrosse finds herself embodying two identities: Haitian and American. Listen to find out more about her experience growing up.
Transcript
Kiersten Taté: When people talk about issues between African Americans and Black immigrants, it becomes a very “us vs. them” conversation. But no one ever thinks about those in the middle: the children of Black immigrants.
KT: Lindsay Debrosse is a Haitian American from West Palm Beach, Florida. She’s finishing her last semester at Emerson College with a major in political communications. Growing up, Debrosse grappled with insecurities about how Haitian she was.
Lindsay Debrosse: I was always told that I wasn’t Haitian enough. I wasn’t Haitian at all because I didn’t subscribe to a lot of the culture (sic) things.
[Introduction to Nicki Minaj - I Get Crazy (Original Mix)]
KT: Debrosse always got along with her African American peers growing up and listened to rappers like Nicki Minaj much to the dismay of her Haitian parents.
LD: I remember listening to Nicki, right? And I remember my parents having sort of a look of—I would hate to say shame but—being upset that I was assimilating in a culture a lot easier and a lot faster than they were, but also being unable as parents to remedy that by being more involved in our own culture because of personal circumstances. My parents worked a lot, so they didn’t really have time all the time to do all the Haitian holidays and to cook the food and to spend time as a family. So to me, it was like I grew up—for the most part—Black, but my parents were Haitian.
KT: Speaking Haitian Creole or Kreyòl was another cultural aspect that made Debrosse feel isolated from being Haitian.
LD: Even within Haitian communities, there’s tension between who can speak Kreyòl and the difference in respect you get from the elders, I suppose. So when somebody my age could speak Kreyòl, they seemed more Haitian than I was because they could speak the language and interact with them. But I could listen but can never really communicate. So, I think a lot of the tension came from that.
KT: But Debrosse doesn’t feel like African American culture is completely hers. Her family telling her that she’s different from African Americans reinforced a difficult reality for Debrosse to face.
LD: It’s like you’re completely isolated and alienated from two groups of people who are still Black at the end of the day. And having to come to terms with the fact that you’re both; you’re neither. My mom, she said, "You’re American on paper, but Haitian by blood." That is a huge difference in the way they’re thinking (about) who we are as people. We’re not the same as Black people, and that was really hard for me growing up.
KT: Debrosse has a stronger relationship with being Haitian American today, and the gradual progress in TV show portrayals of Haitian Americans makes her feel more affirmed than she did before.
KT: That was an excerpt from Grand Army, a Netflix show about teenagers in New York City. Here, high school junior Dominique bickers with her mom in Creole in front of a Target cashier.
LD: When I tell you that was the first time where I felt seen. I was like, "Woah! Y’all really got it. Like whoever wrote this—or told y’all this—y’all got this from a Haitian person." I remember it’s just her speaking Kreyòl in a very Americanized voice.
KT: Lindsay Debrosse’s story is not just a story of struggle. It calls attention to the issues of ethnic tension and the unrealistic binary of social categorizations.
[Nicki Minaj - I Get Crazy (Original Mix) continues]
KT: This episode was produced by me, Kiersten Taté.
The media usage is covered by a Creative Commons license or the fair use doctrine.
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