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By Martine Jean & Ella Turenne
Sure, representation matters but the type, depth, and authenticity of representation matter most.
A couple of years ago, a network hired a consultant to be an accent coach for a young girl on a major network television drama. The character in question was a young Haitian girl who’d been hospitalized in a rural part of Haiti. A few emails later, the consultant received the script and was surprised to read French dialogue. “Why,” she asked, “is the young girl speaking French with her family and with her doctors? She should be speaking Haitian Creole.” The network representative responded a short time later stating the dialogue would not be changed.
In television, once a script is locked and production has begun, it is nearly impossible to change anything, especially if you’re not part of the writing or producing team or even a consultant. This consultant was a tiny cog in a big machine. This true story illustrates the many obstacles we encounter when it comes to representation of Haitians on U.S. screens. Is the Haitian storyline solely to serve a stereotypical poverty, violence or “Vodou is evil” narrative? Sure, representation matters but the type, depth, and authenticity of representation matter most.
Recently, the New York Times began an article with the common refrain that “Haiti is the poorest country in the western hemisphere.” The persistence of this ubiquitous sentence is an indication of how entrenched stereotypes of Haiti and Haitians are in mainstream American media. bell hooks touches on this in her analysis of otherness and white supremacy’s desire to see what it deems primitive on screen as a means of maintaining the status quo, Black Looks: Race and Representation. The most common types of Haitian representation on screen are the Vodou priest/priestess, the violent “Haitian Zoe” gang member, and the helpless indigent living in abject poverty. Once in a while, a character hits the one dimensional trifecta, as in Bad Boyz II where the violent poor Haitian gang member is also a Vodou priest.
This is not to say that those characters should not exist – they should – but as Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie states, “The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” Haitian representation on screen has to strive for more layered and fully developed characters with agency over their lives. Whether it is a character who is Haitian, or a story being set in Haiti or an area in the states where there are a large number of Haitians, representation needs to be an intentionally thought out element of any production.
One of the more authentic representations of the Haitian Creole language and accent on television is Grand Army on Netflix. The casting director chose Haitian-American actors who not only had near perfect accents but also spoke fluent Haitian Creole. Additionally, the show offers a fair representation of a family navigating immigrant life in a foreign country and the myriad differences between first and second generation Haitian immigrants. At the other end of the spectrum are shows like The Politician, also on Netflix, where a Haitian character named Pierre Toussaint sounds straight out of Wakanda with an accent that would make King T’Challa proud.
In between both extremes are the shows or films where the Haitian storyline or characters display what Kristen J. Warner calls “plastic representation.” She writes, “Plastic representation operates as a system that reifies blackness into an empirical system of ‘box checking.’ It is a mode of representation that offers the feel of progress but that actually cedes more ground than it gains for audiences of color.” These works serve no real purpose towards representing Haitians and Haitian culture. Some shows which have straddled this line are Orange is the New Black, where the character Miss Claudette Pelage was Haitian, or the Charmed reboot, where in the first two seasons the love interest of one of the main characters was Haitian (and also played by a Haitian). This example is particularly interesting because the show is about magic. Having a Haitian character forwards the show’s storyline about the supernatural. Once the Haitian character was written off the show, storylines tied with stereotypical Vodou tropes disappeared. It reinforces the idea that Haitian characters can only exist if they are part of these types of narratives.
Another way in which Haitians are presented as monolithic people involves the nuances in dialect. Often, the inclusion of a Haitian character lacks specificity, resulting in a generic Haitian accent. Sure the character is Haitian but from what part of Haiti? Why does that matter? Simply put, there is no one way to be Haitian. There is a variety of regional Haitian Creole accents, the most distinctive being from northern Haiti, where even certain words are different. Northern Haitian Creole has an unmistakably melodic drawl with its own distinct rhythm and cadence. These distinctions are similar to dialects in the US. You wouldn’t, for instance, have a character with a Brooklyn accent representing a character who was born and raised in the south. Of course, there are all sorts of variations of American accents; but this is precisely the point. We understand, as a norm, that there are many American accents. This is true of people from other countries as well.
Streaming platforms are a type of equalizer. With the creation of Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu and Disney Plus, diverse content has expanded. Films such as I Love You Anne and Barikad have found homes in the digital space for Haitians anywhere in the world to enjoy. Contemporary films and series by Haitians have also found a home on these platforms and afforded work such as Kafou and Forever Yours a wider audience.
These examples, however, showcase the work of Haitian artists. How can we ensure that major platforms create content that is inclusive and more authentic in their representation of Haitians? There are a few strategies they can employ to ensure they are not adding to the historical ways Haitians have been negatively represented. First, production companies can hire consultants from the time a film or show is conceived. They can advise on the story, help with casting, serve as dialect coaches, and even opine on locations, set design and costume. Their involvement from the inception of a project ensures that blind spots are avoided. Next, writers can play a fundamental role in ensuring authenticity in the storyline. Finally, casting should be an intentional process. Although efforts should be made to cast Haitians to portray Haitian characters, at the very least, productions should do their due diligence to cast actors who can accurately portray a Haitian.
In the wake of the racial reckoning of summer 2020, production companies were called out to not just increase diversity, but to depict those diverse voices authentically. As creative work in the digital age expands, there is tremendous opportunity for this to happen. If they are looking, these companies will find a plethora of Haitian creatives ready and able to step in to help tell compelling and powerful stories.
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