Top: Imani Jean-Gilles, who co-founded the group Nou La Nou Pare in May 2024 with her older sister. Bottom: Castro Jean-Gilles with Ewald Joseph and his wife, Carmel Joseph. All of them commuted—Castro Jean-Gilles from Bridgeport and the Josephs from Stratford—to see the flag raising make New Haven history. Lucy Gellman Photos.
To the sound of drums ringing over the New Haven Green, dancer Julio Jean stepped forward, bands of red silk tied at his neck and waist. In one hand, he carried a machete, its blade curved and sharp as it sliced through the air. In the other, he lifted a shaker wrapped in green, yellow and blue beads. After he had bowed to the sun-warmed ground, his feet began to fly atop the pavement.
He turned, and a bedazzled version of the Haitian flag shone between his shoulders. Cheers drifted upwards from a small audience, to where the same flag flapped proudly against the sky.
Monday afternoon, members of Connecticut's Haitian community gathered on the New Haven Green for the city’s inaugural observance of Haitian Flag Day, a celebration of Haiti’s path to revolution and independence that takes place each year on May 18. Organized by the cultural nonprofit Nou La Nou Pare (NLNP) the event included a short speaking program, flag raising, and set of performances from dancer Julio Jean and drummer Hancy Michaud, both Haitian American artists who are based in New York City.
It marks the beginning of a season in which New Haven can expect to see more of the Haitian flag, including at the New Haven Caribbean Festival and in a performance from the musician Jo. L (a.k.a. Joel El Chèlbè) on the New Haven Green next month. City spokesperson Lenny Speiller said that the flag will remain on the Green, which is the literal and symbolic heart of the city, through next week.
“I feel that it’s really important to learn about Haitian culture,” said Imani Jean-Gilles, a Bridgeport-raised Haitian American who co-founded NLNP (from Haitian Creole, the phrase’s translation is “We’re Here and We’re Ready”) with her older sister in May 2024. “Once we get past the point of simply understanding each other, we’ll be able to have more empathy for each other.”
The Haitian Revolution refers to the period between 1791 and 1805, during which Haiti—then recognized as Saint-Domingue under the oppressive, violent and colonial rule of the French—saw a multi-year rebellion among enslaved people that became a blueprint for the island’s liberation, and for many other countries that followed. Haitian Flag Day, meanwhile, commemorates the day in May 1803 when then-General Jean-Jacques Dessalines removed the white stripe from the French flag, bringing together resplendent bands of red and blue.
Less than a full year later, Dessalines declared Haiti independent, formally becoming Emperor Jacques I in October of that year. The name Haiti (or Ayiti, in Haitian Creole) comes from the Indigenous Taíno word for the island, rather than the forced colonial name of Saint-Domingue by which it formally went for so many years.
For Jean-Gilles, the ceremony has been years in the making. Growing up as the child of Haitian immigrants in Bridgeport, she learned to be extremely proud of her heritage, from the Creole that her family spoke (and still speaks) at home to the rich, sometimes painful history and cultural vibrancy of the island. She learned, too, that it was regular humans, who recognized the evil of oppression and human bondage, who made revolution possible—not just in Haiti, but in countries that followed the island’s lead.
“Without us, other countries would not be free,” she said.
Monday, her vision for a vibrant recognition sprang to life in brilliant color, as attendees wore bright red to celebrate the island’s independence, and championed its cultural heritage in both English and Haitian Creole, a language that folds in influences from West Africa, France, and the Caribbean, particularly the Indigenous Tíano and Arawak peoples.
Haitian Creole, Jean-Gilles noted, is “a language of freedom,” because it allowed enslaved people to communicate with each other as they planned and carried out the Haitian revolution. “If we hadn’t had Creole, we wouldn’t be free.”
Top: Marie L. Paulin and her son, Kevin. Bottom: Pat Medor, who owns and runs Genexo Associates LLC and is working to open a Haitian community center in New Haven. "It's an opportunity to mobilize and to support the community," he said.
As NLNP members and affiliates handed out handheld Haitian flags before a short speaking program, many spoke about how excited they were to witness a moment of both diasporic pride and New Haven history. Ewald Joseph, a zoning officer and member of Stratford’s Democratic Town Committee, called it a moment years in the making, with a significance that reaches far beyond New Haven.
As an elected official and a Haitian American (the first to be elected in Stratford, he added proudly), he sees it as part of his work to educate the community about the island’s deep history, from flag raising ceremonies to official town, city and state recognition of May 18 as Haitian Flag Day. He owes it to the island, he said: he grew up in Les Cayes, the fourth oldest in a large, joyful family where he "was a good boy" and adored his siblings.
“It was nothing like what is happening right now,” he said of Haiti, referring to the deep food insecurity, economic instability and violence that has gripped the country in recent years. Back then, growing up under President François Duvalier, things felt more stable to him. “The country itself, it was different.”
“Oh my God, it was just the best,” added his wife, Carmel Marie Joseph, of growing up in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. “You were free. You were home. There is nothing better than being home, with all your family.”
During the revolution, Lamartinière was critical in fighting French forces and leading revolutionary troops to liberation. But in the years afterwards, and despite prominence on a 20th-century postage stamp commemorating the battle of Crête-à-Pierrot, her name faded as those of her male counterparts remained.
“It’s something that is easy for me to do because I know my culture and I know my history,” Millien said of teaching the history through cultural presentation and performance, adding that she is a part of the group Haitian Heritage Awareness of Connecticut, which seeks to educate across the state. “This is always a great opportunity to educate.”
As the president of Sosyete Koukouy, she added, makes a point of carrying her culture with her everywhere she goes. Before her time in the U.S., to which she migrated at 18, Millien grew up as the child of an Anglican priest in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, able to see different parts of the island when his postings changed every five years. She attended the rigorous L’Ecole Sainte Trinité, through which she was able to study both piano and orchestral music, and study cultural dance. Decades later, she wants people to have the same rich, nuanced understanding of Haiti’s history and customs as she does.
During a series of short remarks, speakers echoed that message over and over again, with drumming and dance that wove around the Green’s tall flagpole, and ultimately had people moving together on the Green. In addition to NLNP members and a handful of city officials, attendees included poets, organizers, actors, and educators—a testament to the Haitian community right here in greater New Haven.
Welcoming attendees with a bright-eyed “Pale kreyòl?” Jean-Gilles said that she was thrilled to celebrate Haitian Flag Day in New Haven, as it represented a chance to recognize the power of collective action against oppression.
In the years and then decades after Haiti declared its independence—and then struggled to find and maintain a form of governance that worked—it became a strong and supportive example for revolutionaries in other countries, including Venezuela and Cuba.
At flag raising's like Thursdays, New Haven's both learn history and "we learn most importantly how much we have in common," said Mayor Justin Elicker, who picked up a few phrases in Creole before taking the mic.
It’s why seemingly small choices, like speaking Creole instead of French (“Pa pale franse, pale kreyòl!” an attendee said to Mayor Justin Elicker at one point), can still feel radical and deeply, inherently right centuries later. No wonder, then, that she appeared overcome with emotion as the 20th-century anthem "La Dessalinienne" drifted over the crowd, a flag creeping towards the cloud-streaked blue of the New Haven sky.
“This flag is the reminder of the resistance and the fight for independence, to be a blueprint for freedom here and for nations across the world,” said Winning Ways’ Founder Kevin Paulin, who brought his mom, Port-au-Prince-raised Marie L. Paulin, up to the mic with him. For both him and his mom, it’s personal: Marie came to the U.S. from Haiti in 1978. While her children were born here, the country will always be part of her home.
“They [the media] only want to show the ugly things,” said Marie from a bench minutes later, as Jean began to dance. In the midst of so much grief for her island—the violence abroad, but also the end of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Haitians in this country—she doesn’t want people to overlook the miracle that is her birthplace. “But there are so many beautiful things.”