Why Haitians Stay in the Headlines, A Flag Day Reflection

As we approach Haitian Flag Day on Sunday, May 18, I want to pause and invite us into a question that’s been lingering:
Why is it that Haitians always seem to be in the headlines?

This isn’t just rhetorical. It’s been showing up in my spirit because of some very real moments unfolding in the world right now. Let’s go back to 2024, during the U.S. presidential election, when Haitians were dragged into national conversation in a town hall in Springfield, Ohio. In that setting, the old narrative resurfaced: that immigrants, and specifically Haitians, were "taking jobs from Americans." I don’t need to remind you of the absurd rhetoric that followed.

It wasn’t just political scapegoating, it was yet another reminder of how Haitian people are often used as stand-ins for a broader fear narrative, without regard for our humanity, legacy, or contributions.

And then, just last week, Haitians were once again in the headlines. But this time, for a very different reason.

Following the passing of Pope Francis, a new pope was selected, and when Pope Leo was announced, the internet quickly caught fire with viral posts about his Black and Haitian heritage. That revelation sparked debates, not all of them celebratory. I witnessed firsthand how quickly anti-Blackness reared its head. In one heated social media thread, people attempted to strip the Haitian lineage from the Pope’s identity and replace it with Dominican roots.

I had offered a simple comment naming the racism and anti-Blackness at play, but the conversation became so toxic I ended up removing it. That act in itself, of silencing and erasure, is familiar. And exhausting.

Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about how these moments, seemingly unrelated, are deeply connected. And why Haitians, somehow, are always part of the conversation.

Flag Day gives us a moment not just to celebrate, but to reflect on why Haiti still holds such global weight, centuries after its declaration of independence in 1804. And why the legacy of that revolution, led by formerly enslaved people who overthrew their oppressors, still makes some people uncomfortable.

That discomfort isn’t accidental.

Haiti, the first free Black republic in the Western Hemisphere, forced the world to reckon with freedom on terms not sanctioned by empire. And the cost of that act, both literal and symbolic, is one we’re still paying.

When I say cost, I don’t just mean metaphorically. I mean financially. Haiti was forced to pay reparations to France for its own freedom, a debt that crippled the country’s economy and development for generations. And we’re still watching those penalties play out today in how Haiti is treated by international powers, media narratives, and even its own internal political manipulation.

And yet, Haiti continues to stand.
And Haitians continue to rise.

We’ve seen recent calls for France to acknowledge and repay what is owed. We’ve seen protests, policy debates, and an emerging reawakening of voices who know the story isn’t finished.

That’s why I invite us, this week, especially during Haitian Heritage Month, to hold that complexity.
To not only wave our flags with pride, honoring figures like Catherine Flon, who sewed the first Haitian flag, but also to lean into the deeper truths beneath that fabric.

We are not just descendants of a revolution.
We are the continuation of it.

And as we honor our past, we must also imagine our future.

In her brilliant book Imagination: A Manifesto, sociologist and professor Ruha Benjamin reminds us that “Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life’s coming attractions.”

So I ask: What is the future of Haiti that we dare to imagine?

And let me be clear — the future of Haiti isn’t just about Haiti.

As so many before me have said: our struggles are interconnected.
The future of Haiti is tied to the future of Palestine.
To the Congo.
To Sudan.
To every place where people are still fighting for dignity, sovereignty, and joy.

So this month, I encourage you to celebrate—yes.
But also to read, reflect, and reimagine.
On my Bookshop.org page, you’ll find a list of recommended readings to deepen your understanding of Haiti’s history, Flag Day, and the possibilities for the future we can still shape together.

With love and resistance,
Cathleen Antoine-Abiala