25161: Hermantin (News)Haitian-American reaches goals (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: leonie hermantin <lhermantin@hotmail.com>

Haitian-American reaches goals



By Guithele Ruiz-Nicolas

May 22, 2005

My parents emigrated from Port-au-Prince, Haiti, in the 1960s after finding
out that one of my father's cousins, an army colonel, had been assassinated.
Fearing for the safety of the family during the regime of Francois "Papa
Doc" Duvalier, my parents moved to New York City with my three younger
brothers, and left my two sisters and I in a boarding school.

Five years later, we joined our parents and brothers in Brooklyn. Unlike the
life I'd known in Haiti, there were no nannies here to take care of the
younger children; no one to cook our meals, wash our clothes; no one to take
us to school.

Our parents expected us to take care of our younger siblings, start dinner
before they got home, do the laundry on weekends. I did not like it one bit
and felt that life was too hard, that it was no longer carefree --
particularly because my father worked two jobs and my mother did a lot of
overtime at a factory. Prior to the move, my father had been an attorney and
my mother an elementary schoolteacher.

As the eldest daughter, I was actively involved with running the household
and helping to raise five siblings.

I missed my "old" life in Haiti. I missed my friends and, for many years, I
wished my parents had left me in Haiti at the boarding school until I was
older. It took me several years to meet new friends, do things that
teenagers do, and truly appreciate the life that my parents provided for me.

The hardest part was the isolation I felt from not speaking English. Because
my brothers arrived here at a very young age, their primary language at home
was English. They would have conversations that we, the girls, would not
fully understand.

This was even worse at school. I did not have English for Speakers of Other
Languages programs in those days to attend and had great difficulty catching
up with schoolwork. In the classroom, whenever called upon to read out loud,
I would feel my stomach sink because I knew I would become the subject of
ridicule because of my strong accent and inability to correctly pronounce
the words.

The best thing that happened to me came later, when I got to attend
Riverdale Country School, a small preparatory school. Because my father
taught French there, I was offered a full four-year scholarship.

Despite a challenging curriculum and competitive environment, somehow I
blossomed. Classroom sizes were very small, and the teachers and students
did not see my language challenges as a disability. They were encouraging
and willing to help me.

I had several tutors, baby-sat for some of the teachers and had many
friends. Life was good.

After graduating, I managed to get a scholarship for the small, private
Briarcliff College. My parents had predetermined that I would become an
interpreter and ultimately work for the United Nations. Consequently, my
first two years of college were for my parents and not for me. I did not do
as well as they would have liked, and ultimately stopped in 1976 after an
associate degree. That was also the year I got married.

I went back to school three years later for a bachelor degree because I
realized that, although I was working, professional growth would be
impossible without a four-year degree.

The second time around, I knew I wanted to major in communications -- and
that I would have to do it without my parents' financial assistance.

My goal was to obtain my degree in two years, before my son was old enough
for first grade. Most importantly, I had to maintain at least a 3.0 grade
point average.

Accomplishing this goal really made me see life differently. I realized that
with God all things are possible, however we must be willing do our part. I
still don't know how I managed at the time as a single mother, having a
full-time job and taking 18 credits per term.

I also realized how blessed I was to have such a strong family and their
support.

My worst transition was the one from New York to Florida. My parents
relocated to North Miami in 1981. In light of my father's multiple strokes
and poor health in the mid-1980s, I decided to move closer to my parents and
relocated to Pembroke Pines in 1986.

During my first two years in Florida, I missed the "melting pot" feel that
New York was known for. It seemed everyone "fit in" there, and it was not
uncommon for others to take a newcomer under their wing and mentor them.

My move to Florida was much more of a cultural shock to me than my move to
New York. It took me a few years to get fully acclimated. I realized early
on that many from my new surroundings did not quite understand and were not
accepting of the new group of immigrants from Haiti. I felt very sad about
their plight, and the worst part was that I really did not know how to help
or make it easier for them.

I finally began to really enjoy my new surroundings a few years later, while
working for the Urban League of Broward County. Not only did I feel I was
helping those in need, but I also had the opportunity to meet numerous
professional colleagues, who later remained very close friends. It was also
exciting to see how quickly changes in Broward County were coming to
fruition, such as expanded roadways, theaters and economic growth. I felt
very privileged to see how the community changed and to be part of the
process.

My nationality was never an issue for me when I was growing up in New York
City or during the time I went to college. I began to think about becoming a
U.S. citizen after moving to Florida. Often, people would refer to me as a
"hybrid," simply because my compatriots think I am too Americanized and
native-born Americans would often say I am different. The most important
thing is that I view myself as a Haitian-American who feels blessed to have
gone through my immigrant experience.

To new arrivals, I would say that learning the language is key. I strongly
recommend enrolling in an ESOL class at a church or community school, and
finding what resources are available to get a job, health care for children,
and other such help that can make the transition a lot better. Catholic
Charities, Minority Development & Empowerment Inc. and Hispanic Unity are
good organizations to start with.

One can never fit into a preconceived mold, in accordance to what others
think of you. Whether people think I am a "hybrid" or "different," I would
not change anything.

I am a human being first, and my experiences have made me who I am today.
Life is a journey, and as I travel this road, I can only strive to be the
best human being that I can be. I also feel a responsibility to teach the
younger generation that no matter what adversity falls their way, they can
overcome it if they try hard.

The occasional "My Story, A New Life" features people from outside the
United States who have established themselves successfully in South Florida.




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Guithele Ruiz-Nicolas

Birthplace: Port-au-Prince, Haiti
Arrived in United States: August 1969

City of residence: Plantation

Work: Executive director of The Russell Life Skills and Reading Foundation,
which has centers in Hollywood, North Miami and Fort Lauderdale

Volunteer: Board member of The National Conference for Community and Justice
and First Call for Help


Copyright © 2005, South Florida Sun-Sentinel