by Gracie Remington
This week’s edition of The New Yorker has an intriguing albeit somewhat mystifying article on Nadia François, a woman who has been struggling to feed three hundred residents of her Delmas 75 neighborhood in the wake of Haiti’s devastating earthquake. The piece follows the writer and François as they attempt to get A and aid for the survivors. The collected anecdotes regarding François’ desperate search for her family and boyfriend, the uneven and chaotic distribution of food, and the virtually anything-goes rule regarding looters (whom even survivors have supposedly been told to kill) paint a picture in which François is a rare beacon of calm in a tremendously turbulent time.
Despite her elite status amongst her neighbors in post-earthquake Haiti (largely, she explains, due to her ability to speak English), François’ own autobiography is not so clean-cut. She illegally immigrated to Miami when she was 6 years old, graduating from high school and studying cosmetology and “human resource services” after graduation. In 1992, however, she was arrested and jailed for five years for forging a Treasury check and for armed robbery. She was then deported, but returned to the U.S. in 1999 in an effort to see her daughter, whom she had heard was being abused in foster care. She was picked up by the police for entering the country illegally and was jailed for seven years in Tallahassee, after which she was once again deported.
The juxtaposition of her complicated life story and current position as a representative for her neighborhood as it struggles to regain its footing after the annihilating earthquake places François in an interesting position, and helps illuminate the ways in which people have risen to help each other in devastated Haiti. Moreover, it inspires all to look beyond basic facts (jail time, deportation) to see the value and vigor of people like François. She may not be perfect, but she’s doing her best for her neighbors and for herself, a small but noble act that deserves to be celebrated.
