LA VOIX DES FEMMES: HAITIAN WOMEN’S RIGHTS, NATIONAL POLITICS AND BLACK ACTIVISM IN PORT-AU-PRINCE AND MONTREAL, 1934-1986 by Grace Louise Sanders A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (History and Women’s Studies) in the University of Michigan 2013 Dissertation Committee: Associate Professor Sueann Caulfield, Chair Associate Professor Jesse E. Hoffnung-Garskof Professor Tiya A. Miles Associate Professor Nadine C. Naber Professor Matthew J. Smith, University of the West Indies © Grace L. Sanders 2013 DEDICATION For LaRosa, Margaret, and Johnnie, the two librarians and the eternal student, who insisted that I honor the freedom to read and write. & For the women of Le Cercle. Nou se famn tout bon! ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I would like to thank the History and Women’s Studies Departments at the University of Michigan. I am especially grateful to my Dissertation Committee Members. Matthew J. Smith, thank you for your close reading of everything I send to you, from emails to dissertation chapters. You have continued to be selfless in your attention to detail and in your mentorship. Jesse Hoffnung-Garskof, thank you for sharing new and compelling ways to narrate and teach the histories of Latin America and North America. Tiya Miles, thank you for being a compassionate mentor and inspiring visionary. I have learned volumes from your example. Nadine Naber, thank you for kindly taking me by the hand during the most difficult times on this journey. You are an ally and a friend. Sueann Caulfield, you have patiently walked this graduate school road with me from beginning to end. Thank you for always asking the difficult questions, while encouraging me to stay true to my vision. I give my sincere gratitude to the professors and mentors who taught and provided instructive and kind words of encouragement during my graduate school process including, Julius Scott, Martha Jones, Laurent Dubois, Richard Turits, Hannah Rosen, Rebecca Scott, and Deborah Keller-Cohen. I would also like to give special thanks to iii Kathleen King, Aimee Germain, Lorna Alstetter, and Diana Denney, for taking care of the necessary details with efficiency and grace. The Department of African and Afroamerican Studies remains a center of refuge. I am grateful to the staff, who always welcomed me with a smile and open arms, particularly Mrs. Elizabeth James, LaQuita Willis, and Faye Portis. I am grateful for funding, fellowships and grants provided by the Andrew C. Mellon Foundation, the Ford Foundation, the Canadian Embassy and the Canadian Studies Association, the Conference on Latin American History, the Haitian Studies Association, and the History Department, the Women’s Studies Department, the Institute for Research on Women and Gender, and the Horace Rackham School of Graduate Studies at the University of Michigan. I am indebted to my intellectual and spiritual shepherds at Spelman College who encouraged me to share women’s stories: Kathleen Phillips Lewis, Bahati Kuumba, Beverly Guy-Sheftall, Veta Goler, Cynthia Spence, Dona Akiba Harper, and Shirley Toland-Dix. Thank you for guiding me into this world of scholarly research, recording, and wandering. I would like to thank the members of Haitian Studies Association for reading, listening and providing critical feedback on different components of the this project. Special thanks goes to Millery Polyné, Claudine Michel, Gina A. Ulysse, Kate Ramsey, Yveline Alexis, Manoucheka Celeste, and Casta Guillaume. iv Many people supported my work in Port-au-Prince, Haiti and Montreal, Canada. I am grateful to Rose Desilus, Joseph Vieux, Wilner Vieux, Mme. Murielle, Marie André, Wani Coriolan, Nicolas Reinault; Frantz Voltaire and Peddy Multidore at the Centre International de Documentation et d’Information Haïtienne Caribbéenne et Afro-Canadienne (CIDIHCA); Clorinde Zéphir and ENFOFAMN; the Concordia University Oral History Department, and the members of the Haiti Group and Rwanda Group at the Histoire de Vie Project. I owe a special thanks to Stéphane Martelly and the Oral History Creative Writing Group, our late night conversations about love, trauma, translation, and survival pushed my conceptual framing of this project. Stéphane, thank you for being my teacher, my confidant, and my fellow comedian. For the women of the Cercle des femmes endeuillées de la Maison d’Haïti, thank you for making me whole again. That day in early January 2010 cracked us into many pieces and I am amazed at the care and the tenderness with which you were willing to heal our wounds. Thank you for the days when everyone cried. Thank you for the days when no one cried. Thank you for turning a room in North Montreal into a sacred space. I offer my sincere gratitude to all of the women who led me to that place with their constant support, Myriam, Monik, Murielle, Mrs. Suzie, Marie-Célie, Fabienne, and Pascal. I could not have completed this dissertation without an amazing graduate student support system. Special thanks to my University of Michigan community: Kanika Harris, Afia Ofori-Mensa, Kirisitina Sailiata, Lani Teves, and Isabel Millan. I am also grateful to the Black Humanities Collective. I owe a special thanks to my community outside of the v university including, INCITE! Ann Arbor Chapter, the Strong Tower Community, and the members of the 6am Boot Camp Class. To the members of the Incredibles Writing Group, you are my heroes. Matt Blanton, Paul Farber, and Tayana Hardin thank you for your super love, super eyes, and super powers. Paul Farber, we have shared our dreams, our victories, our defeats, and our home. Thank you for helping me to gracefully embrace the seasons of our lives. On to Season 3! Matthew Blanton, your critical eye never ceases to amaze me and your jokes never cease to make me laugh. Chantalle Verna, thank you for being my friend, colleague and loving big sister during this process. You consistently lent your kind words, advice, and your family. Special thanks to the Surpris, Dauphan and Charlier families for giving me a place to lay my head, fill my stomach, laugh hysterically, and dance. Lara Stein Pardo, thank you for being my running partner on weekday mornings, co- collaborator in artistic expression, and co-explorer of great cities. Kristine Molina, thank God for the “buddy system.” You are a dear friend and confidant. vi Maria Paz Esguerra, thank for holding me at the moments when I shook with laughter and tears. Thank you for witnessing my growth and loving me through the pains. You are my sister. Tayana Hardin, thank you for exposing me to the erotic and dark phrases of a future with feeling. I am blessed to have such a compassionate and loving soulmate. Special thanks to my intellectual foremothers Audre Lorde and Ntozake Shange, for allowing me to witness a childhood crush on a man named Toussaint. I could not have completed this dissertation without the love and support of my friends and family. Mia Austin and Stephanie Poplika you teach me daily what it means to be friends and sisters. Thank you for guarding my physical and emotional safety during this journey. To the Sanders, Bowers, Grant, Mizzell, and Jones families: who knew that looking through old boxes of letters and photographs was the slow sculpting of a life long passion. Simunye, thank you for being my first teacher. You taught me what it means to be a compassionate, critical, and loving educator. Your prayers saved me. Joseph, thank you for being my first student. It is a blessing to have a “twin” who loves unapologetically, and expects the extraordinary. I am blessed to call you both my brothers. Billye and Edwin Sanders, the dancer and the fisherman, thank you for giving me free reign over the world and the direction of my life. Thank you for loving me deeply and vii unconditionally. I am constantly amazed by your commitment to my happiness and success. This dissertation is yours. Dad, you can take off your tie. Mom, take a bow. Amari Johnson, thank you for being my home base. I am grateful for every meal, night out, day in, and every washed dish. Your support saved me and kept me sane. I love you in that place that I do not know fully, but I look forward to spending the rest of my life on this side and the other exploring that space. To those who have gone before and to those who are to come, thank you for paving a way so that I might live and write my truth. viii PREFACE HISTORICAL HAUNTINGS Literary scholar Myriam Chancy opens her 1992 book, Framing Silence: Revolutionary Novels by Haitian Women, with the story of Solange, a fictional schoolgirl, who is feverishly searching for some mention of women in her Haitian History textbook when she is fatally shot by gunfire in the streets of Port-au-Prince.1 Throughout Chancy’s analysis of Haitian women’s writing, Solange continues to appear—haunting the pages of the book as a reminder that a comprehensive history of Haitian women remains untold. Yet before Solange “has crossed that thin line” into the world from which she will repeatedly return “to nag your conscience,” she feels the urge to write her name. On the stone bench where she rests, Solange is tempted to contribute to the initials and hearts that have been etched into the seating, but “she has been taught not to carve into objects that belong to the public, like trees or outhouses.” She reflects on this act of defiance to a false sense of order and “wishes she were brave enough” to leave her mark. Balancing the textbook that has failed to represent the nation’s women in her lap, “she takes her pencil and writes her name on the bench, first in script and then in print; she feels like a large weight has been lifted from her spirit.”2 Moments later, she makes her transition.