Time To Act (eBook)

Black History Matters

William Jusme (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
202 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-0417-0 (ISBN)

'A Time To Act' is William Jusme's deeply personal reflection of life as a Haitian-American. Combining personal experience with reflections on both history and policy, this is an enlightening and thought-provoking book that will help readers understand Haitian history, problematic policies in the United States, mistakes from the past, and hope for the future. Part memoir and part educational resource, this is a must-have book for readers of all backgrounds.

"e;A Time To Act"e; is William Jusme's deeply personal reflection of life as a Haitian-American. Combining personal experience with reflections on both history and policy, this is an enlightening and thought-provoking book that will help readers understand Haitian history, problematic policies in the United States, mistakes from the past, and hope for the future. Part memoir and part educational resource, this is a must-have book for readers of all backgrounds. Jusme's book is the product of many years of observation, research, soul-searching, and discovery. Vulnerable and real, this book discusses Jusme's experiences as a farmworker, a veteran of the United States Navy, a businessman, and a promise that he made to his mother before she passed away in 1983 due to breast cancer. This book also serves a fundamental purpose to share insight into Haiti's unique history and why Haiti is the most impoverished nation in the Americas. Jusme shares his personal opinions and beliefs on what has happened and what the Haitian people need to do to bring Haiti into the twenty-first century. This book covers many topics, both personal and historical. But its main focus is the interconnected nature of humanity. Jusme spends great time and effort elaborating on the theory of human originality based on credible sources. We are all human beings. We are connected one way or the other. Therefore, it is a time to act in the interest of all mankind regardless of color or where we live on this planet.

CHAPTER 1:

Long Journey in Haiti

I was born in Haiti in a small village called Poirier near St. Marc. The area is very undeveloped even to this day, 35 years since I left it. My parents decided to send me and the rest of my brothers and sisters to Gonaives, Haiti, a city north of the capital, to introduce us to better schools and a better way of life.

I made a promise to my mother in July 1983, when I was about 17 years old. I saw my mother appeared to be sad, with tears in her eyes. I approached her and asked her what happened? She replied, “I feel like I will not live to see you guys grow up, and I will not be there to make sure you have a good education and become the good citizens I want you all to be.”

I timidly replied, don’t worry, Mom. If that ever happens, we will continue to go to school, and we will become the good citizens you want us to be. I felt it was the right thing to say at the time, without having any means to back it up.

Moments after I made such a bold statement to my mother, I quickly concluded that even though my mother would not be alive to see it, I must do my part to make sure her aspirations live on and her visions continue. To me, at that time, it was A Time to Act.

My mother probably did not take what I said seriously. I was not the favorite child. It appeared that she was still looking deep into the horizon for some answers.

My mother was the engine behind the idea of us (her children) earning a good education. In addition, she believed that everyone on this planet must have access to school. My father, at first, did not think that school was the primary method of education or dignity in society. He felt that if someone owned many cows and had many parcels of cultivable lands, that was sufficient. Later, however, he changed his mind and joined my mother. They both felt that education was paramount, regardless of how many livestock and parcels of land someone may own.

My mother would refer to her lack of formal schooling as “Handicapped,” not physically, but educationally. She felt that she could have been further ahead if she had received a formal education. She noticed that her peers who earned their education through school had a better quality of life, and she demanded that for her children by any means.

Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with cancer when she was about 43 years old. After many years of feeling a small bump on her left breast, she did not seek medical attention promptly. Instead, she relied on what we called in Haiti “Leaves doctors.” They claim that all treatments can be found from leaves.

After many months of treatments from these leaves’ doctors, cancer spread, and she became very sick. By the time my mother went to a hospital about 30 kilometers away, it was too late. The doctors removed her left breast, where cancer had started. She lived for a while after the first initial operation. Unfortunately, cancer had recurred in the same area. My mother had to undergo chemotherapy, and she became very frail. My mother lived in distress for many months before she passed away in November 1983, at about 47 years old.

When that day came, it was devastating for all of us. But it seemed like each of us had made a promise to our mother in our own way; some of us explicitly, and others were too young to understand. But one thing I believe we had in common was the family bond. Whatever we had, we shared as a family.

Before my mother passed away, she had a conversation with my dad about the family moving forward without her because she knew her days were numbered on this planet. She told my dad I must leave the country to seek help for the rest of the family and that my older brother must stay in Haiti with the rest of the family for guidance. According to my dad, my mother felt that my older brother would do a better job guiding the rest of the family forward. However, my mother also understood that I had displayed two gestures that made her believe that if I could help the family, I would. One day, my mother complained of not having fresh meat; I killed one of my goats and brought my mother a bucket full of fresh meat. In the countryside, where we lived, there was no electricity. So, there was no way to preserve the meat. The second time, my mother gave me a dollar on a January 1st to go to a house party, generally organized by a couple in the area every year. On my way back home, I brought my dad and mom each a bread and a brownie. These two gestures prompted my mother to have a little faith in me. Although she did not know what life would be like for me in the United States, in a place, I had no one, She foresaw, I would survive there.

My mother never had the opportunity to attend any formal school. In my view, she was one of the greatest tacticians that ever-stepped foot on this planet. Throughout my life, I always use my mother’s philosophies. Although I had the opportunity to live with my mother for only 17 years, she is my greatest mentor in all my endeavors until today.

My mother was always delighted to help others. She was a hard-working woman, good with money management, and she would eat less so she could feed those with nothing to eat. I have displayed the same principles as well throughout my life. My mother was a fighter. She knew when and how to fight. So, do I.

One day, about 5:00 p.m. in the summer of 1985, I got into a fight with a Tonton Macoute guy who was trying to kill one of my goats. The Tonton Macoute was a militia created by former Haitian dictator Francois Duvalier to terrorize people and cause fear to anyone who posed any threat to the Duvalier regime.

When one of my neighbors told me that the Tonton Macoute guy was running after one of my goats to kill it, I went to the rescue of my goat. By the time I got to the scene, he had already caught the goat, and I happened to arrive before he used a machete to cut the goat’s throat. I, forcefully, pushed him away. He fell, and the goat escaped.

When he got up, I knew he could not run as fast as I could, so I made sure he had his attention on me and not on my goat. I was about 18 years old and very athletic, so I knew he could not catch me. As soon as he was running toward me, I took off.

At that point, my dad felt it was better for me to leave Haiti.

The situation prompted my father to rush me into leaving Haiti right away. He had previously felt that I was too young to move to the United States alone. But when I got into the conflict with the Tonton Macoute guy, my dad wanted me to leave Haiti as soon as possible.

You see, sometimes things happen for reasons that we may not understand, but we will understand them in the future.

Ultimately, one of my dad’s distant cousins adopted me as his son to bring me to the United States—but he, in my view, saw me as his next victim as well. He had many boys in his home. Perhaps, many of them did not like their living situation, but they had no other place to go.

One day, he and I went to the United States Embassy in Port-au-Prince to seek a visa. Unfortunately, the US Embassy did not grant me the visa. My dad’s distant cousin always felt that I was rude and unfriendly. I guess because he could not have his way with me as he did with the other boys. I knew I had to react quickly. It was, for me, A Time To Act.

My dad had given him $1,000 as a deposit for the visa. He started to blame me for not getting the visa. I knew I had to make a bold decision; I could not think of anything else I could use as collateral for the money. I quickly took his passport with the United States visa and all the things he put on me to impress the consul, like the gold chain and expensive watch. I disappeared right in front of his eyes while a “Tap-Tap” got between us. In Haiti. A “Tap-Tap” is a minibus or a pickup truck customized and reconditioned for public transportation.

Duvalier’s regime was still in power, and my dad’s distant cousin was a Tonton Macoute as well. He was in his mid-50s. He, perhaps, thought that I would get on public transportation going from Port-au-Prince to either St. Marc or Gonaives. If I were to go to my dad’s home in the countryside, I would take public transit from Port-au-Prince to St. Marc, the closest city to my dad’s house in Poirier. Or, if I had decided to go to Gonaives, I would take public transportation from Port-au-Prince to Gonaives, the city where my brothers, sisters, and I lived at that time. I knew either choice would be risky.

The Tonton Macoute guy, my dad claimed to be his distant cousin, would be on the lookout for me on these two routes. He was mad I had his briefcase with all his important papers and his passport with a five-year United States visa, his neck chain, and his expensive watch. I assumed he was pissed off; I did everything I could so he wouldn’t find me.

I took these things because I knew that was the only way for my dad to get the money back from him. The thousand dollars my dad gave him was a lot of money in Haiti in 1985. While my mother was battling cancer for her life, much of the family savings went for medical bills and medications. I remember hearing my dad said we had to spend almost “4,000 gourdes a month on medication...

Erscheint lt. Verlag	23.9.2021
Sprache	englisch
Themenwelt	Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
Themenwelt	Sozialwissenschaften ► Pädagogik
ISBN-10	1-6678-0417-0 / 1667804170
ISBN-13	978-1-6678-0417-0 / 9781667804170

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