By GARRY PIERRE-PIERRE

Around two decades ago, Canada implemented a strategy that provided legal standing and employment to Haitian professionals. The Haitians were a boon to Canada, which was looking to expand the number of Francophones in its population. According to an editorial in the Haitian Times, while the policy is well-intended, it deprives Haiti of much-needed experts to advance it forward. Our phone lines were flooded with people who disagreed with our stance, as anticipated. Such brain drain had become a 5-year cycle, and I had witnessed its negative effect on Haiti since the early 1970s, when people started leaving in droves.

The Biden government recently launched its humanitarian parole program, under which 30,000 Haitians, Venezuelans, and Cubans will be permitted to enter the United States if they have a sponsor.

President Biden’s action is motivated by humanity, but it is not entirely selfless. There is a strategic element at work here. The Republicans have used the border catastrophe, whether genuine or imagined, to incite their xenophobic supporters. They are waiting for a small increase in the number of Black and brown individuals seeking political sanctuary or refuge.

Instead of individuals lining up along the US-Mexico border, this program has established a virtual line, mitigating any criticism directed at the government by Republicans. In doing so, Biden has removed at least one red meat problem from the arsenal that we know will be released as the 2024 campaign begins.

President Biden’s action is motivated by humanity, but it is not entirely selfless. There is a strategic element at work here.

However, the strategy fails to handle some fundamental issues. What are your fiduciary duties when you support someone for parole to the United States? What occurs if you and the parolee have a falling out? Are there any consequences if your money situation changes and you are unable to assist the person? What if, say, President Ron DeSantis chooses to reverse this move through an executive order?

These are just a few of the issues that I and many others in the community have been debating as we consider supporting someone. Whatever the result, it is certain that thousands of Haitians will flee the country in search of a better existence. I am confident they will find it here and become useful residents of the United States.

Miami recently celebrated what is generally thought to be 50 years of “boat people.” The Haitian culture is an important component of South Florida’s character.

Another “boat people” disaster struck me as a college student in 1981. The La Nativité, a rickety boat packed with 63 migrants, capsized and killed 33 people, including two pregnant women. The tale went viral on a nationwide scale. Ten years later, I was part of a group of reporters from the South Florida Sun-Sentinel who went out to share the survivors’ tales. We traced down some of them, and I questioned them on the beach where the boat lifted off. The documentary was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, but we did not receive.

Nonetheless, our exodus from Haiti proceeds unchecked. While I’m delighted that some of my countrymen will have chances, what will the expense be to Haiti? The nation requires technocrats and competent individuals to rule and provide some fundamental human rights – health care, education, liberty, and security – while also creating an atmosphere conducive to a fair and just society. This is a problem that Haiti has encountered and that its leaders have neglected to solve. Instead of building a better nation, they silently rejoice because there are fewer mouths to support and new payments pouring into people’s wallets.

At times, it appears that only those of us living outside of Haiti are concerned about it. We romanticize our lives back home and have persuaded ourselves that they were better than they were. The gravitational draw of these magnificent mountains and indigo seas is too strong to resist. We appear to want to return to Haiti as a diaspora, whereas those who reside there can’t wait to get out of this horrible nation.

Skah Shah, a New York-based band adored by all, was the top band during that migratory surge in the late 1970s. My folks and their pals would get together and socialize while dining, drinking, and listening to music. The party had gone sentimental by the time they arrived at Skah Shah’s Haiti Cherie. Here’s an example of a line from the song’s lyrics:

This morning I woke up, my eyes are open.
 There’s a pain sitting on my heart.
I miss my country, Haiti my darling.
I must take a bus to go to work, 2 lines of water are running out of my eyes
Oh God, give me courage.
People back home think about me.
When I don’t write, they criticize me, unbeknownst to them that my heart is ripping apart. 
In New York, the sun doesn’t rise.

So, if we adore Haiti so much, why do we want to flee so badly? Perhaps loving Haiti entails leaving and returning to it. I certainly hope so.