Migration, Memory and Longing in Haitian Songs

With over three million Haitians living abroad and the nation’s reliance on remittances and other forms of exchange for its survival, Haiti is shaped by an imagined transnational community found within and outside its geographic borders. In this article, we explore music as a prominent cultural form bound up in identity, examine the structural inequalities that have made migration the principal strategy for surviving social, political, and economic turmoil, and consider migration’s impact on transnational families. Through Haiti’s folk, konpa, and rap music genres, we explore how songs of migration evoke and suspend memory, express longing, and convey hope for (re)connection between migrants and those in Haiti. These songs exemplify cultural identity, authenticity, and innovation as they recount the perseverance, pain, and suffering of Haitians on both sides of the Caribbean Sea. This musical dialogue suggests solidarity but also signals antagonism between those living abroad and those who remain in the homeland. In examining this cultural form, we conclude that what is revealed in this music is what’s truly at stake in Haitian migration: more than the survival of families, it is also the hope for revival of a faltering nation.


Introduction
In this article, we explore music as a prominent cultural form bound up in identity that for Haitians -both within and beyond Haiti's geographic borders -constructs an "imagined transnational community." 1 Anderson conceptualized nations as "imagined political communities" that are "limited and sovereign," yet they are imagined because "members… will never know all of their fellow-members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the mind of each lives the image of their communion." 2 We examine how Haitians in Haiti and in the diaspora construct this imagined transnational community through songs of migration that evoke and suspend memory. Haitians express longing and hope for (re)connection between migrants dispersed across the globe and families as well as communities in Haiti through the folk, konpa, and rap music genres. These songs exemplify cultural identity, authenticity, and innovation as they recount the perseverance and suffering of transnational families.
This musical dialogue suggests solidarity but also signals antagonisms between those who remain in the homeland and those living abroad, a result of longstanding structural inequalities and a broken social contract between the Haitian state and its citizens. We draw attention to the historic inequalities articulated through class politics in the origin country along distinct geographic (urban versus rural), cultural (French versus African), linguistic (French versus Creole), and religious weak governance would render Haiti extremely vulnerable in the era of climate change, 45,46 further ushering in the revival of twoubadou, 74 a traditional musical form consisting of one or two acoustic guitars, a tanbou (barrel drum), and maracas (also referred to as rumba shakers). Madanm, pitit leve chak jou pou bay manje Wife, children wake up daily and must be fed 4h du maten w leve w pa gen dòmi nan je 4am in the morning you wake up and can't sleep Sa pou w fè, lamizè janbe limit What are you to do, misery has passed its limit Lapli pa tonbe, jaden pa pouse It has not rained, the land is unproductive Mayi pa leve, menm pitimi pa donnen Corn doesn't grow, neither does sorghum Menm lè lapli tonbe jaden pa janm pouse Even when it rains, the land is unproductive Tout bon tè k nan mòn yo glise tonbe nan lanmè All the good highlands have slid into the sea Ah... gen de bagay ki soti pou l dekouraje w Ah…there are things that happen to discourage you The lyrics suggest that the song's protagonist is a rural dweller. From the use of the word lamanjay -a rural term for food -to references to land that is no longer productive, this family's deeply personal experience of hunger is not uncommon. Currently, the most optimistic estimate of Haiti's tree coverage is just under one-third of what it once was, 77 a testament to centuries of environmental degradation dating back to the export of wood to France during the colonial period. 78 With much of its land no longer arable, imports are almost on par with agricultural production, at 44% and 48%, respectively, of the nation's food availability. 79 Low food production and dependence on foreign food imports have had dire consequences for the average Haitian family. 74 Twoubadou is a traditional musical genre in Haiti. The word is derived from its Spanish equivalent, troubadour. Twoubadou music generally features songs about the highs and lows of love. The music is believed to be influenced by Cuba's guajiro music and combined with Haiti's merengue music which was popular at the time.
The new song would have been introduced by seasonal migrants circulating between Haiti and Cuba, demonstrating the influence of migration on music. 75 All translations are ours. 76 "Mezanmi," translated literally from the French "mes amis (my friends)," has become an expression alerting others of one's shock or distress. 77 Churches et al. 2014. 78 Ramsey 2011. 79 Glaeser et al. 2011. "Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al. The World Food Programme 80 reports that 1 in 3 Haitians require immediate food assistance, and in 2018, half of the population was undernourished. 81 The devastating effects of soil erosion and natural disasters 82 in this largely agrarian society 83 has exacerbated disparities in wealth and health between Haiti's urban and rural communities and contributed to internal migration from rural towns to cities and international migration. Environmental degradation has decreased interest in land cultivation contributing to food deprivation at the rural household level and food insecurity nationally. 84 Discouraged by the inability to feed one's family, "Sa Pou n Fe" offers one solution in response to its title question: migrate. For the protagonist, a poor peasant, migration is a high risk, high reward option. In addition, his circumstance only affords him the possibility of migrating illegally via fishing boat: "The sea is deep, and I can't swim, there are many sharks I don't think I will survive." Fearing the migrant's imminent death at sea, he invokes the vodou spirits that have abandoned him: "Simbi of the waters 85  A year after "Sa Pou n Fe" was released, then President René Préval would use the expression, "Naje Pou Soti [Swim your way out]" during a meeting with rural peasants seeking relief from the 2008 global food crisis. During the crisis, more than 2.5 million Haitians required food assistance due to pre-existing conditions of food insecurity and the absence of safety nets. 87 The expression of, paradoxically, self-reliance and abandonment became a permanent fixture in Haitian popular culture enshrined in song by one of Haiti's most popular bands at the time, Djakout Mizik. Their song of the same name, "Naje Pou Soti," 88 reminds Haitians that they are responsible for their own survival. Over time its water reference would extend its meaning into the realm of migration.
Many of Haiti's most vulnerable cannot afford to fly from one destination to another. They must take to the sea, a very risky means of survival given the mode of transport (a rickety boat) and the undocumented status of the boats' human cargo. While performing "Naje pou Soti," the lead singer engages in call and response with the audience: "They say the sea is choppy…swim your way out! Those who can't swim…must float!" Initially understood as a general reference to survival, the expression would take on new meaning. Local Haitians as well as Haitian migrants 80 World Food Programme 2020. 81 World Food Programme 2021. 82 Marcelin and Cela 2017 (1). 83 Although engagement in agricultural activities has steadily declined, it remains one of the most important sectors in the labor market, second only to the urban informal economy (See: Institut Haïtien de l'Enfance 2018 and World Bank 2015). 84 Marcelin and Cela 2017 (1). 85 In the context of migration, Simbi nan dlo [Simbi of the waters] is the spirit called upon for protection while traversing bodies of water. 86 This is a reference to the founder of judo, Jigoro Kano, and should be understood as a call for strength in order to fight. 87 Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations 2008.
shared the common fate of fighting to survive under exceedingly difficult circumstances at home and en route to a new land. Djakout's song demonstrates that "the political significance of music belongs both to the process of production by the artists and that of reception by the audience." 89 Beken's somber ballad "Chache Lavi, Detwi Lavi [Searching for Life, Destroying Life]" also captures the risks of undocumented migration. 90 The Haiti-based artist laments the trials and tribulations of those who have made the difficult decision to migrate by kanté. It depicts the often-contradictory nature of migration, which begins as part of a quest for a better life, but sometimes ultimately destroys life:  91 These are two Haitian proverbs: "A hungry dog that doesn't play" signaling its distress, while "an empty sack doesn't stand" is a metaphor for a human being that cannot survive without food. These proverbs suggest that the migrant's decision to leave Haiti under such perilous conditions is both desperate and rational.
"Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al. As this song illustrates, music can serve as a form of political expression that challenges local social orders and status quo arrangements 92 , 93 . The decision to migrate has traditionally been understood as a strategy of hope adopted by those in search of a better life for themselves and their families. 94 For many in low-income countries, the decision to migrate is also motivated by socioeconomic constraints, food insecurity, unemployment, political crisis, or natural disasters. 95 Boat people are among the most vulnerable migrants who, as suggested by Anthony Phelps, take an immediate risk for a long-term reward. 96 In Haiti, this form of migration emerged in the early 1970s, as Haitians fled the economic misery and political repression of the Duvalier dictatorship. 97 Beken's composition captures the risks associated with migrant sea crossing in precarious boats en route to the US, Belize, Cuba, Honduras, Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela, even as the Haitian government signed agreements blocking access to the Florida coast in 1981, heightening the risk of deportation. 98 The next major wave of Haitian boat people would occur almost two decades later (1991 to 1994) following the coup d'état that deposed Haiti's democratically elected president Jean Bertrand Aristide. 99 Migrants took to the sea, some fleeing political repression and others a declining economy exacerbated by an economic embargo. 100 Chache Lavi, Detwi Lavi highlights the precarious nature of migration during the time when all boats intercepted (through May 1994) were immediately returned to Haiti. 101 At that same time, all Cuban migrants received immediate residency upon reaching US shores due to the Wet Foot/Dry Foot policy. 102 This was demonstrative of the political interests and distinct power differentials (and geopolitical interests of the US government) between Haitians and Cubans in the US. This song describes the hope that nourished these clandestine voyages as well as the mourning of those who didn't make it to their destination or worse, perished. Beken notes in his song that the cadavers of the most unfortunate were "buried in boxes, sent back to their country," some never to be claimed by family members.
Musicians in the diaspora would respond in-kind, producing their own songs lamenting the plight of these victims. In 1991, Tabou Combo released "Yo [Them], 103 asking for compassion for Haiti's beleaguered migrants, acknowledging those who "stuffed themselves into a boat, [women who] miscarried at sea [while] caught in [inclement] weather." According to the song, the US's restrictive interdiction policies suggested that "the Americans didn't want them because they 92 Kasinitz and Martiniello 2019. 93 Martiniello and Kasinitz 2008. 94 Marcelin and Cela 2017 (2 weren't Cuban." Migration music has been used as a tool to facilitate integration in the host country; 104, 105 it can also help preserve tradition among migrant communities. 106, 107 However, the examples provided here demonstrate how it can serve as a form of political action. 108 Beken and Tabou Combo challenge their audiences to acknowledge the experiences of marginalization in the homeland that lead one to make the difficult choice to migrate, on the one hand, while advocating for the humane treatment of Haiti's boat people in the US, on the other. In this same vein, Dirksen 109 showcases Haiti's carnival music as a distinct form of cultural expression that can be leveraged for political gain or to project a new vision for political engagement, civic participation, and social change. The circumstances that give rise to migration are certainly ripe with political content, whether migration is the result of civil war, political repression, neoliberal policies, or access to a privileged passport that facilitates one's movement across borders. The phenomenon of boat people has featured prominently in Haiti's 20th century migratory landscape, garnering significant international media attention. What the media often failed to capture is the role of intermediaries in facilitating this dangerous process. Rodrigue Milien's Rakêt [Racket], 110 released in 1980, explains how the raketè [informal intermediary] exploits the vulnerable, "…nèg yo sa yo fè, yon vye kannòt san motè, san vwal, san manje. Yo vòlè lajan m pou mennen m Miami, enhen epi m nan peyi m byen pwòp […what the guys do, (they get) an old fishing boat with no motor, with no sail, no food. They stole my money to take me to Miami]." Often potential migrants enlist the services of an informal intermediary as a strategy to avoid the bureaucratic red tape associated with legal processes and procedures in Haiti and/or the exorbitant fees charged by formal intermediaries, which may also include bribes. A cost benefit analysis may lead one to decide that informal intermediaries are more efficient, less expensive, or both. Thus, the intermediary plays a crucial role in facilitating migration. 111 In Haiti, the services of informal intermediaries are solicited for both legal and irregular migration alike. However, Milien's song suggests that the decision to migrate is not always made from desperation or the need for survival but is at times the result of the influence of friends and social networks 112, 113 as his song implies: "It's friends…friends put me in this predicament. Migrating via rakêt when I was doing just fine in my country." Once again, as the journey across the sea becomes more dangerous, the migrant appeals to the vodou spirits for protection and safety: 104 Hemetek 2006. 105 Hemetek 2010. 106 Allen and Groce 1988. 107 Reyes 1999. 108  Scholarship on Haitian migration often emphasizes the sea and the invocation of vodou spirits associated with water to ensure safe passage and protection. Some Haitians who migrate by boat have, indeed, perished on their journey toward a better life. Others have been intercepted at sea, detained at Guantanamo Bay, and/or deported to Haiti. For those who make it to their destination on the other side of the sea, migration music "offers a possible insight into [their] own interpretations of their migrations and visions of their new societies" and may help migrants and their families cope with some of the more painful aspects of the migratory experience. 117 Some are disillusioned by a reality that is in stark contrast with their expectations as Milien's Rakêt suggests, "I don't have a social [security card], I don't have a green card to work, I have no home, I have [nowhere to] sleep, I'm cold." For this migrant, the paradise sought is never found. This may surprise many in the homeland who view migration as a step towards success in life, to whom he issues a warning: woch nan dlo pa konn mize woch nan soley [rocks in the water know nothing of the misery of rocks in the sun]. 118 Recently, the plight of Haitian laborers has received significant international media coverage due to their exploitation and the recent de-nationalization of Haitians in the Dominican Republic. 119  Ti dènye a pa menm sonje papa l The youngest doesn't even remember his father "Human Rights" is distinct in that it captures the impact of migration on families over time. The migrant has missed many milestones in his children's lives as well as the passing of his mother. This song predates cellular phones, social media, and other technologies that have facilitated instantaneous communication among transnational families. Prior to these technological advances, the komisyon 121 was central to Haiti's migration landscape, requiring an intermediary to facilitate communication across borders. It is how migrants, their family members, and their friends-maintained contact, updated one another of new developments in the origin or host country, and how migrants, in particular, maintained their commitments and obligations to those in the homeland. A komisyon comes in many forms and has many delivery methods, including the postal service, a messenger service, wire transfer company, or a traveler or migrant.
Prior to the internet and communication platforms such as WhatsApp, the migrant was completely disconnected from his/her family's day-to-day realities until s/he received a komisyon. In the song "Human Rights," the migrant acknowledges his extended absence. He considers the possibility that his partner may have moved on and that his role in this transnational family remains uncertain. 122 The migrant's wife has proven faithful, requesting that her patience be rewarded: "li lò pou w tounen [it's time for you to return]. This is consistent with the findings of a national study of migration in Haiti which found that family is the principal motivation behind a migrant's 121 A komisyon is a message that can include a letter, gift, money, or combination thereof. 122 Razy and Baby-Collin 2011. "Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al. return. 123 The migrant's wife makes an additional request: lè wa janbe lakay menmsi w pa pot anyen pa kite manchèt ou dèyè [when you return home if you bring nothing else don't leave your machete behind]. The machete is an integral tool for the rural peasantry used for gardening, farming, in vodou ceremonies 124 and also serves as a weapon of self-defense. However, the wife's reference to the machete, in this instance, is an expression of her long-awaited desire for physical intimacy; the machete represents the man's anatomy that is used tend to his wife's personal "garden." By the 1970s, cassette letters would replace written letters as the primary form of transnational correspondence. 125, 126 However, before the advent of the cassette tape, written correspondence from migrants and family members who were functionally illiterate required the dictation of letters to others. In "Nostalgie Haïtienne [Haitian Nostalgia]" 127 Martha Jean-Claude sings of a female migrant in Cuba dictating a letter to her chosen scribe. Jean-Claude's song is unique in that it predates the study of women as international migrants -in their own right -despite accounting for almost half of the migrant population since the 1960s. 128 Yon jou konsa lakay ma resevwa w One day, I will host at my home m'pa konn siyen wa banm, ma fè yon kwa I don't know how sign give it to me I will mark an X During the early 20th century, many Haitians had migrated to Cuba as agricultural laborers. Diederich and Burt 132 describe the Great Depression -which had cascading negative effects on the Haitian economy -as a peak period of Haitian migration. This period also coincided with US occupation and the prohibitive taxes imposed on commodities and services accompanied by population growth, land tenure issues, and agricultural degradation. 133,134 This combination of factors disproportionately affected the rural peasantry, propelling many, including women, to seek labor opportunities on sugarcane plantations in Cuba and the Dominican Republic: Cutting cane is a backbreaking job and living in the sugar bateys almost subhuman, but Haitian peasants, who had more and more difficulty making little patches of land feed growing families, welcomed the work. They left with the hope of returning home with a little cash to purchase livestock and rebuild their [homes] or expand their land holdings. Most returned but many stayed on from one season to another. 135 While Haitian women are more likely to migrate internally from rural to urban areas of Haiti 136, 137 and less likely than men to migrate internationally, 138, 139 these two linked phenomena have led to an increase in female headed and female-supported households. 140 As the breadwinners of their families, some Haitian women eventually make the difficult decision to migrate. International migration, thus, has been more than a strategy of survival but an investment in the future for heads of households. Jean Claude's lyrics capture the short-term regional migration of agricultural laborers which was undertaken with the expressed intention of generating resources that could be invested upon their return home. 141 In "Haitian Nostalgia," the demographic of the migrant is captured explicitly by her goal of purchasing land and livestock upon her return. It suggests that she is from rural Haiti, which is further corroborated by her inability to write her own letter. significant gains in terms of access to education, Haitian women (ages 15-49) were still more likely than men to have no formal education, at 13% and 9%, respectively, and almost twice as likely to be unemployed, at 13% and 8%, respectively. 142 Jean-Claude's song "evokes memories and captures emotions separate from the lyrical content" 143 by intimating a longing for home through unspoken memories captured in her expression of chagrin.
In very few words, the song touches upon the additional toll migration places on mothers who must deputize others as surrogate parents to the children who remain in the homeland. 144,145 Several studies of women migrants have examined how the gendered roles assigned to mothers persist even as they migrate. Migrant mothers are expected to provide material assistance and emotional care from abroad. 146 Their transnational parenting skills are subject to the judgements of community members in the homeland 147, 148 as well as the resentments harbored by the children they have left behind. 149,150 Perhaps to preempt such judgements, she reminds the family that her absence is not in vain and will benefit them all in the long run.
The letter also illustrates that the decision to migrate should not be understood strictly as a personal one but one that is placed within a larger social context that includes the household and communities at home and abroad. 151 The formality and politeness with which she addresses the person she has asked to "keep an eye on the children" suggests that this person is not a family member but rather someone from the community. Therefore, family responsibilities have been extended beyond blood relatives. In another stanza, the migrant informs the letter's intended recipient that she was received by Anibal as a new arrival at a time when she was unemployed. Such acts of solidarity play a critical role in the decision to migrate, as the absence of such support may render migration wholly impossible and particularly dangerous for female migrants.
Jean-Claude's salutation to all of the spirits is not inconsequential. As Kim argues, "Voudouisants believe in an invisible world that interacts with this one, inhabited by the souls of the dead, who do not vanish but rather join this spirit realm underneath the ocean." 152 Jean-Claude acknowledges the family spirits that have ensured her safe arrival and integration in Cuba, her health, and ability to (eventually) realize her goal of amassing sufficient resources to return home and support her family.
Expressions of longing figure prominently in migration songs, both among migrants and those in the homeland. La Relèv, 153 written in the early 1990's, laments the future of a nation with 142 Institut Haïtien de l'Enfance 2018. 143  During this same period, many Haitian migrants were detained on the US's military base in Cuba where some were released to the US as parolees where they could apply for asylum and others were returned to Haiti. 157 In this same period there was a mass exodus of young Haitians 154 Ginen nan bwa refers to the protective spirit (Ginen) associated with one's family and ancestral land (nan bwa literally meaning in the woods or on the land). Ginen is a symbolic restoration of Africa among vodou practitioners in which land (Haiti) meets sea (the route back to Africa) where the spirit of Haitian people is derived and will return upon death (See : Hurbon 1987). 155 The sori is a form of mutual aid in rural Haiti which includes an impromptu offer of agricultural labor offered by a group to a beneficiary who cannot refuse. The beneficiary must provide a meal for the laborers at the end of their day of work. 156 The kòve is a widespread mutual aid practice in rural Haiti in which laborers collectively weed and plant in small groups without remuneration. In turn, each member of the group benefits from this collective practice on their plot of land. ire. During this activity, they sing, dance, and eat at the beneficiary's expense. This practice is slowly disappearing as farmers are increasingly choosing to serve as paid day laborers (See: Jacques Romain, Masters of the Dew). 157 Paik 2016. "Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al. recruited to work on the sugarcane plantations of the Dominican Republic. By 2012, data revealed that almost two-thirds of these migrants were male, and most were under 35 years of age. 158 In the majority of cases, the employment obtained in the host country barely met their basic needs, serving as a source of disillusionment. 159,160,161 As many before him, Brunache calls upon the vodou spirits for assistance. Is Brunache calling upon Simbi, the spirit of rain and water, to combat drought by watering the land? Or is he calling for the protection of migrants that have taken to the seas? Is he calling upon Simbi to transform this exodus to a return home? In this passage, Simbi reminds us of the significance of water in the migratory route as a space of encounters and the creation of linkages and networking. 162 Brunache's calls to the lwas may also represent a double bind. The departure of his "brothers" signals the discontinuity of agricultural labor, but more significantly, of Haitian culture and identity. "Simbi, you are in trouble," Brunache exclaims, alerting the spirit to its potential weakening foreshadowing the eventual disappearance of the lwas who will have no one left to serve them.
Brunache's fundamental question is: "Who will relieve me [of my duties] to help Haiti rise up?" Almost two decades earlier Marie-Clotilde "Toto" Bissainthe, an artist-activist exiled during the Duvalier regime, made her own call for a return to the homeland. In "Dey [Mourning]," 163 the exiled singer warns that for Haiti to "rise up" it will need its diaspora. The complementarity of these two songs in which the homeland calls out to the diaspora and the diaspora calls out to the homeland can be found in the levity of La Relèv's musical arrangement, which in some ways belies its lyrics, and the somber lyrics of Mourning with its acoustic guitar, bass, and the cries of its songstress: Whereas Brunache laments the departure of his "brothers," Bissainthe intimates a desire for return that may not be shared by compatriots at home. "Dèy" captures the pain of a nation that has lost many of its children to migration, while conveying the yearning of those children to be called home: 158 Lozano et al. 2016. 159 INURED 2020. 160 Joseph 2017. 161 Lozano et al. 2016. 162  "Dèy"'s lyrics and melody express profound grief and sorrow, mourning a country on the brink of death. In what appears as a final act of defiance, Bissainthe declares: "Haiti will rise up!" while referring to the konbit as a symbol of the communion needed between Haiti and its diaspora for the nation's revival. As this song illustrates, migration music can serve as a therapeutic outlet to express pain, rejection, sadness, disappointment, hope, and eventual redemption. When we examine "Dèy"'s lyrics against that of "La Relev," we also see the complexity of the relationships in Haiti's transnational community. Both songs express some form of rejection by the other, a reproach of the other, and a collective, though unmet, desire for a unified effort toward rebuilding Haiti. Thus, migration music serves multiple purposes at the micro-and macro-levels; it can serve as a warning to individuals contemplating migration, remind migrants of their obligation to family and community, or serve as a broader call for solidarity towards the development or reconstruction of the homeland. 166 Calls for unity would reach fever pitch following the 2010 earthquake, as it appeared that Haiti would finally have its chance at revival. The disaster was a critical event 167 that left an indelible mark on Haitians around the globe. The collective trauma experienced by Haitians abroad was evidence of their deep emotional ties to the homeland across time and space. 168,169,170 The disaster was expected to reorganize power relations and redefine relations between Haiti and the international community, as well as between Haitians at home and beyond. With billions of dollars in aid committed to the nation's rebuilding effort and calls made for diaspora engagement 165 Konbit is a collective agricultural activity similar to the kòve. 166 Baily and Collyer 2006. 167 Das 1995. 168 Allen et al. 2017. 169 Audebert 2017. 170 Cela et al. 2017. Volume Five, Numbers One & Two "Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al. in its reconstruction, 171, 172, 173 many believed that the time had finally come when Haiti would chart a new path forward. It was in this context that Beethova Obas, a Haiti-based musician, would release "Lavi [Life]" 174 calling for solidarity between Haiti and its diaspora as the nation recovered from the disaster and embarked on the rebuilding process: "Each Haitian is a poto mitan 175 that's supporting the arbor of development. They know Haiti can't achieve anything; it is Haitians who have to [work] hand in hand with those who live far to build Haiti. What are we waiting for to work together?" Lavi is yet another illustration of the call for unity that carries an implicit rebuke of Haitians' failure to come together. The song is one of hope that recognizes the interdependent yet antagonistic nature of the relationship between Haitians in the homeland and abroad. Prior studies have shown that Haiti's relationship with its diaspora is at best, ambivalent, due to power differentials and often characterized by distrust and resentment on both sides, 176, 177 paternalism on the part of members of the diaspora, 178 and perceived exploitation by both parties. 179, 180 These tensions are further exacerbated by divergences in what Haitians in the homeland and those living abroad propose as solutions for the nation's development.
The 2010 disaster further unveiled the complex features of this interdependent relationship between Haitians at home and abroad. During a 2015 study of 130 youth of Haitian descent in the US, almost 1 in 5 participants reported that their diasporic identity emerged or was strengthened by the disaster. 181 Yet for many youths the call for unity and cooperation found in this song rang hollow, given the level of distrust and lack of solidarity between Haiti and its diaspora. Studies of post-disaster engagement in Haiti have also pointed out the need for leadership that articulates a plan for rebuilding and effectively channeling the resources Haitians in the diaspora have to offer the homeland. 182,183 This suggests that contrary to the song's lyrics, the problem of engagement is not individual reluctance but lack of political will.
The process of rebuilding a nation is a politically contentious endeavor. Das 184 asserts that societies are reconstructed, social relations reconfigured, and new constituencies emerge during such reconstruction. The post-disaster reconstruction project, in some ways, hampered emerging solidarity between those in Haiti and those abroad. Haiti's appeals to the diaspora privileged financial 171 Cela 2021. 172 OAS 2010 Group de Travail sur l'Éducation et la Formation 2010. 174 Lavi can be found here on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6JxMIPmXGO4. 175 Poto mitan is the central pillar that holds up a vodou temple. 176 Cela 2021. 177 Cela et al. 2017. 178 Ibid. 179 Cela 2021. 180 Cela et al. 2017. 181 Ibid. 182 Cela 2021. 183 Cela et al. 2017. 184 Das 1995. contributions and, to a lesser extent, technology transfer and capacity building potentials, 185, 186 challenging the diaspora's desire for a greater political role that included dual citizenship. 187,188 In essence, the political marginalization of Haitians living abroad belies the fact that it is their ability to remit that has kept Haitian families and the national economy afloat in times of normalcy 189,190 and, especially, during and in the aftermath of crises and disasters. 191

Youth, Migration, and the Political Dimension of Music
As migrants tend to be younger, able-bodied persons, their loss to migration has had devastating impacts on Haiti. These young migrants leave a country that has failed to meet its obligations to its citizens yet is the only home they have ever known. This section analyzes songs that capture the complexity of migration for Haitian youth who wish to secure their future while maintaining a glimmer of hope that their success abroad will alleviate the suffering of family members in Haiti.
BelO, a Haitian jazz artist renowned for his conscious-raising lyrics, is one of Haiti's most popular contemporary artists of the mizik angaje [engaged music] movement. Dating back to the colonial period, mizik angaje is a "genre-crossing expressive form [that] features politically and socially engaged lyrics" 192 that has increasingly sharpened its focus on the plight of Haiti's poorest in the wake of the island nation's tenuous transition toward democratic rule. 193,194 In  Marcelino 2012. 190 OECD and INURED 2017. 191 INURED 2020. 192 Dirksen 2013: 47. 193 Averill 1997. 194 Richman 2005 The video for Istwa Dwòl can be viewed here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Xo_xbyhHn8.
" Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al.  Since the end of the Duvalier era in the early 1980's, the succession of political, economic, and social crises 197,198,199,200 have affected Haitians across all social strata, fueling an exodus that has led BelO to conclude that: "The country is […] falling apart." Haiti's youth, who make up most of the population, are faced with a future characterized by intermittent employment and low compensation, mostly in the informal sector 201 . Therefore, many are condemned to a life of precarity and disillusionment, with migration seemingly offering the only solution.
Songs released by Haiti's young migrants, many of whom have migrated to nations in the global South, including Brazil and Chile, reflect on the socioeconomic conditions that have forced them to leave their homeland. Some of these youth can also be found in Mexico, where many journeying to the US across the Central American isthmus have been forced to settle due to restrictive migration policies adopted by the Obama, 202 Trump, 203  T Lion chronicles a situation in which the young migrant is willing but unable to work and a burden on his parents. This song diverges from many of those produced in Haiti by the generation that precedes him. His male predecessors were older father figures unable to support their families. This song mirrors that of BelO's Istwa Dwòl, which documents the plight of Haiti's youth, many of whom began migrating in large numbers after the earthquake. 208 They may not have families to feed but face a bleak future that compels them to "al cheche [go search for]" a better life elsewhere.
As Reyes suggests, "Musics cross over, blend with, sample from other music…" 209 Through music, identity is negotiated and expressed 210 . Some songs from the Haitian diaspora, irrespective of generation, infuse the language of the host country. Martha Jean-Claude starts off with a greeting in Spanish to her "Compay." T Lion raps in Creole, Spanish, and English. They are no longer monolingual (Creole) or bilingual (Creole and French) Haitians but multilingual transnational 206 To met may is an expression that alludes to struggling to survive. An equivalent Haitian saying would be to "whip water to make butter." 207 Papadap is the term used for cellular phone credit provided by Haiti's most popular telecommunications company, Digicel. 208 Marcelin and Cela 2017 (2). 209 Reyes 2019: 46 210 Martiniello and Lafleur 2008. "Migration, Memory, and Longing in Haitian Songs" -Cela, Charles, Dubuisson, et al.  Toby provides a brief history of Haitian migration within the global South ending with contemporary flows to Brazil and Chile, the more recent destinations of choice. 212 From Haiti, he imagines the accomplishments of his contemporaries abroad, contrasting their self-actualization and security against the constraints and insecurities of Haitian life. One might argue that his lyrics idealize migration and life abroad, through his lyrics, which are "the component in music which have the most obvious political meaning." 213 We suggest that by accentuating the most positive outcomes of international migration, Toby is directing his political statement against the poverty, structural violence, and social exclusion to which Haitians, in general, and Haitian youth, in particular, are subjected in their homeland. 214,215,216 Alix Tout peyi a fin ale! Ale! The whole country is gone! Gone! Tout peyi a fin ale! Ale! The whole country is gone! Gone! Similar to Istwa Dwòl, Georges provides some insight into the diverse sociodemographic of those who have migrated; they include men, women, young, old, urban, rural, rich, and poor. Perhaps the song's greatest contribution is that it captures an important part of the oftencontradictory nature of the migration phenomenon, the desperation of those left behind. While many are eager to leave a country they believe is in decline and/or offers few to no opportunities, those who have left often yearn to return as suggested in the songs Haitian Nostalgia, Mourning, Racket, among countless other migration songs. The paradox of the migration phenomenon is that many in Haiti hope to leave while those who have migrated maintain a desire to return as expressed in Tabou Combo's song "Lakay [Home]": "[My] Dear Haiti, you gave me life. Even if I leave you one day I must return to your feet." Return is also a complex matter, as those who do encounter a country unlike the one, they left behind. 219, 220 As Baily and Collyernote, "…displacement is not only spatial but temporalthe culture with which the migrant is familiar no longer exists, even in the place they left. In the migrant's absence the home society has moved on, such that they no longer feel that they are fully a part of that society either, since they had no role in, and were not witness to, the developments that have occurred." 221 Migrants may, therefore, occupy a liminal space in which they are a foreigner in the host country, and they have now become foreigners in their homeland.

Conclusion
As structural inequalities in Haiti persist, Haitians look abroad for opportunities to support their families, self-actualize, and, in the best of circumstances, support homeland development. Haitian migration continues to evolve, with new migratory routes emerging in Latin America following the 2010 earthquake and onward migration to the US-Mexico border adding a new dimension to the search for a better life in the face of Haiti's cascading crises.
Migration evokes movement and temporality, yet in our scholarly pursuit of understanding migration through the migrant, we often neglect the simultaneous evolution and passage of time in the homeland. Through migration music, we apprehend the changes that occur across transnational space, and this cultural form can be readily shared and widely diffused. 222 It is an expression of one's life experience 223 as well as the group identity that connects people. 224 As Kasinitz and 219 Baily andCollyer 2006. 220 Said 1999. 221 Baily and Collyer 2006: 170. 222 Baily and Collyer 2006. 223 Avorgbedor 1992. 224 Roy and Dowd 2010.
Martiniello assert, "Music is an increasingly important social space for the creation of identity." 225 Haiti's migration music, thus, connects those who have left with those remaining in the homeland, contributing to the construction and evolution of this imagined transnational community.
The songs shared herein represent an ongoing dialogue of the experiences, perspectives, challenges, and triumphs of a people embroiled in a historically contentious nation-building project that began under the most violent of circumstances in the 19th century and continues today. These songs capture the suffering that propels so many to abandon the only home they have known. It documents the sacrifices, contestations, and possibilities offered by migration and the yearning for return, a return that is predicated on structural political, economic, and social change. Music provides an outlet for migrants and the diaspora to communicate with Haitians in the homeland and vice versa. It provides a venue for Haitians within and outside of the island nation's borders to express, project, envision, and aspire to create a new, more inclusive Haiti. Bound by blood, the mutuality of shared sociocultural experiences, and history, Haiti's music brings to life an imagined transnational community engaged in the collective project of defining what Haiti is and what it shall become.