[Date Prev][Date Next][Thread Prev][Thread Next][Date Index][Thread Index]
24263: Hermantin( News)After years of worshiping in a cafeteria, congregation working t (fwd)
From: leonie hermantin <lhermantin@hotmail.com>
Posted on Sun, Feb. 13, 2005
LITTLE HAITI
Growing belief
After years of worshiping in a cafeteria, congregation working to build new
church
BY JACQUELINE CHARLES
jcharles@herald.com
Every weekend, Annette Decius makes the tedious journey from Miramar to the
converted Catholic girls' school cafeteria that is the spiritual and
cultural center of South Florida's Haitian community.
Like many of the 4,000 congregants who flock to Notre Dame d'Haiti, the
first Catholic church for Haitians in the Archdiocese of Miami, Decius moved
out of Little Haiti long ago. But like them, she remains as faithful to
Notre Dame as she is to her God.
''Even though this is not our country, we can always say we have a place to
go. It is Notre Dame,'' said Decius, who has been attending the church since
she arrived from Haiti as a teenager 22 years ago. ``It is our house.''
For nearly a quarter of a century, the worn chapel doors at Northeast 62nd
Street and First Avenue have been a rallying point for information and
support in South Florida's growing Haitian community. It has been a beacon
in the community's transition from a population in the tens of thousands in
the 1980s to an estimated 214,893 today.
More than a place of worship, it is where Haitians set aside their
differences and gather in times of hope and despair, regardless of faith or
politics.
So strong is the belief in Notre Dame's future that parishioners like Decius
are preparing to do what was unimaginable a decade ago: raise $3 million
toward the construction of a new church yards away from the current building
at 130 NE 62nd St.
It's a daunting task for a financially struggling congregation. According to
its priest, the Rev. Reginald Jean-Mary, half of the parishioners are
approaching retirement age; many in the other half, despite moving to other
communities, remain poor, working-class immigrants.
HIGH POVERTY RATE
In Little Haiti alone, the overall poverty rate is 40 percent, with half of
the children younger than 18 living in poor families, according to a Herald
analysis of U.S. Census data.
''It's not going to be easy'' to raise the money, said Orlando Bishop Thomas
Wenski. As a priest in Miami, Wenski co-founded Notre Dame in 1981.
Wenski said the daunting demographics of the Haitian community make it
difficult for even him to envision building a new church, despite the
growing need he saw during his 17 years as Notre Dame's priest and the
director of its next-door social service affiliate, the Pierre Toussaint
Haitian Catholic Center.
''The people didn't have the money,'' he said. ``They needed to send money
back to Haiti.''
But as the church's popularity has grown, especially among young Haitian
families, so has the need for a new building to replace the dilapidated one
where the carpet is worn, the air conditioning doesn't really work and what
hasn't broken is being held together by faith and prayer.
Over the years, the church's original 600-person capacity has been stretched
to about 900 with the help of folding chairs, school desks and hard benches.
But even that doesn't provide enough seats to accommodate the 1,200 faithful
who attend services at one time. The church celebrates five Creole- and
French-language Masses every weekend. At least a dozen Masses are offered
weekly.
OUTDOOR SERVICES
On special occasions -- or in times of crisis -- services are moved outside
to the church's sprawling grounds, surrounded by aged oak trees, or
simulcast via four big-screen televisions for those who can't get inside.
The Creole language Masses aren't Notre Dame's only draw. The social service
center provides food, clothes, jobs and day-care assistance. More than
18,000 Haitians have learned how to speak English there, and countless
others how to read and write Creole.
''Notre Dame has been a positive force to help the Haitian immigrant to
integrate into American society,'' said Wenski, who likes to compare the
church to St. John Bosco, the first Catholic church dedicated to Miami
Cubans in 1961.
Four years ago, St. John Bosco's Hispanic parishioners finally moved out of
their old building -- a converted parking garage in East Little Havana --
into a new $3 million church across the street at 1301 W. Flagler St.
''It took that poor Cuban, now mostly Nicaraguan, community in Little Havana
from 1961 to 2001 to move out of their old facility,'' Wenski said. ``When
you look at what the Haitians want to do, they are ahead of the game.''
Marie Boule, 24, a Miami Lakes resident who got married at Notre Dame and
baptized her 17-month-old daughter Amaya there, said the community can't
afford not to help Notre Dame. While smaller in space, the church boasts the
largest number of Haitian members in a seven-mile radius. St. Mary's
Cathedral, located a mile north in Little Haiti, has only 600 registrants,
while North Miami's St. James Catholic Church has 2,500. In both churches,
the majority of the worshipers are Haitian.
''It is the Haitian church. It is what has brought the Haitian community
together,'' said Boule, who was born in Miami. ``Whether you were born here,
or arrived here yesterday, everyone knows this is where you need to go.''
North Miami Councilman Jacques Despinosse says the church is the community's
base. An Episcopalian, he is among the 4,000 who regularly show up on New
Year's Day to commemorate Haiti's independence or in June to celebrate the
feast day of the parish's Our Lady of Perpetual Help in an outdoor Mass.
`HEAD TO NOTRE DAME'
'Any time there is a problem, we say, `Head to Notre Dame,' '' said
Despinosse, who has pledged to give $5,000 and help raise another $5,000 for
a new church.
Two years ago, Little Haiti activist turned developer Yves Savain
unsuccessfully tried to convince both the church and the Archdiocese of
Miami to allow his firm to help them develop the nine-acre church property.
He offered to construct a new $4 million church, an assisted living facility
for the elderly and rehabilitate the dilapidated buildings.
In exchange, the Archdiocese and Notre Dame would agree to donate part of
the property to allow Savain's firm to build market-rate residential condo
units. The proposal was turned down.
''It was a prefect fit,'' Savain said of his plan, which he still believes
is a way to help Haitians leave their own mark in Little Haiti as downtown
Miami moves north.
Jean-Mary, the current leader at Notre Dame, said the church parish council
wasn't comfortable with the plan for several reasons, including the loss of
its popular outdoor pilgrimage center, a shrine to the Virgin Mary, where
many go to pray and reflect.
'We have an identity and Notre Dame would lose its identity,' Jean-Mary
said.
Part of that identity has been shaped by the church's role as a vocal and
visible core of South Florida's Haitian community. It also hasn't hurt that
the church shares its name with the Virgin Mary, patroness of Haiti.
Jean-Mary hopes that continuing legacy will move the community to support
the fundraising efforts, which so far have raised about $200,000. The
individual pledges and donations have come from as far away as the Bahamas.
PAGEANT AND GALA
To do their part, young people are planning a Miss Notre Dame d'Haiti
Pageant. The $15 entry fee will go toward the fundraising. The adults,
however, are banking on an April 9 fundraising gala in downtown Miami.
''If we can find 1,000 families who commit to give us $1,000 a year, that
will bring us to $1 million,'' said Jean-Mary, who would like to celebrate
Notre Dame's Jubilee anniversary in June 2006 by breaking ground on a new
building.
His goal isn't lost on the congregants.
''We have to fight for this,'' said Genevieve Masseus, 50, a certified
nursing assistant and North Miami resident. ``The church is too small right
now.''
How small?
The mad rush for a seat and parking space begins at 6:30 a.m. every Sunday,
as drivers stream in from as far south as Kendall and as far north as
Deerfield Beach.
Within minutes, the scene in the parking lot turns chaotic as cars career in
and out of the lanes, ignoring the orange cones and yellow police tape,
their drivers prowling for spots.
COLLECTING PLEDGES
On a recent Sunday, the rush inside was slowed by 69-year-old Raymond Elie,
a member of the church's parish council and chief fundraiser on this day.
Armed with a pen and his pledge folder, Elie was signing up early
participants for the April fundraiser. The event is $75 a person, and the
Rev. Jean-Mary has offered to give anyone who buys a table of 10 a $25 break
off the final price.
''Our goal is 1,000 people,'' said Elie, who said that while no task in life
is easy, he is confident ``the people of Notre Dame will answer.''
As Elie continued his mission, inside the church, the conga drums and bass
guitar were carrying the upbeat rhythm of the Creole and French hymns that
flavor the service. Early arrivals lined the pews, squeezing their bodies
into every available inch of space. To avoid having to stand, some brought
their own chairs -- toting them from their car trunks.
''It really feels like home,'' said North Miami resident Dazzling Daniel,
24, who attends Mass every Sunday with four generations of her family,
including her 83-year-old grandmother and 1-year-old nephew. ``Even if you
don't know someone, people go out of their way to make you feel at home.''