by Jonathan Lamare

Last week, I had the pleasure of flying back in to Haiti from Boston with the Chair of our Program Committee, Christine Steinwand, and another program committee member, Suzanne Brady. Chris and Suzanne have been committed to Be Like Brit from the early days; as Brit's aunt, Chris obviously has a clear connection and vested interest in realizing Brit's dream. Suzanne came on board early on as well, a Worcester County Public School professional with extensive experience with children. We knew with their expertise on hand we would have some great feedback to work with as we continue to work to improve our programming here at Be Like Brit.

While Len spearheaded the construction of Brit's Orphanage not long after the 2010 quake claimed Britney's life, along with hundreds of thousands of others, Cherylann took to task the development of a Program Manual - a Working Vision and Guiding Principles which would help build the daily structure in the orphanage and guarantee that all of Brit's Children were afforded the rights guaranteed them as human beings deserving of dignity and respect. 

Based on the Convention on the Rights of the Child, rooted in developmentally appropriate and research based methodologies, the program manual was born. Now, almost three years into our operating as a home for children, Christine and Suzanne traveled to Haiti for their 3rd and 2nd times, respectively, to see just how all of this is going. To say I was nervous to be the subject of their assessment is an understatement. Their collective professional experiences far outweighed any of my work, and I was anxious for their visit - while at the same time excited! While their trip was a short and busy 4 days, we were able to go through the Program Manual line by line and update, adjust, discuss, and hash out everything therein. I'm confident that moving forward we have a finely tuned resource to refer to, and a living and breathing document which will continue to serve as our guidelines as an operating home for children.

Being Brit, Bernie, and Richie's Aunt, Christine had an especially personal reason for her visit to Haiti. I invited Chris to reflect on her week here in Haiti and her overall impressions - this being her third trip in 5 years. Chris is also Len's big sister, and effectively raised him (though she makes no claims to be responsible for him! Haha!)

 Here is what Chris had to say:

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“Harsh” is the only descriptive word that floats in my head as I drive away from the Port-au-Prince airport. “Leave the airport quickly,” “stay close together,” and “get out fast” were still swirling around as directives from Len and Cherylann before I left. HARSH. The rubbish alone that coats the Haiti earth like a carpet in a room is visually harsh. Visually harsh. My eyes begin to burn. The pollution is ubiquitous. The rubbish in some spots is built up high and lit on fire. The heat of the fire mixes with the equatorial heat. I can actually see the heat. Goats roam everywhere in this city capitol of millions of people, eating the rubbish. The goats will be milk now and dinner later.

Earthquake rubble still abounds but in between, cement houses have been rebuilt halfway. Rebar sticks out of the rooftops waiting for the day when they can be finished. In between, behind, or in front of the cement block houses, stand tin roofed shacks with dirt floors and sheets for doors. Children play. I see some wooden chairs, no bed, no kitchen, no bathroom. Cement walled rivers flow in, then ever so slightly slowed down by the rubbish piled in. I suddenly realize this is the sewer system flowing into the Caribbean Sea.

The van is escorting us to the orphanage miles away, with two men protecting us in the front seat with firearms. It is better that we don’t understand what it is they are protecting us from.

Quickly the harshness becomes background, and I focus on the people. They are moving about purposefully in their daily lives as you and I do. Their faces express joy and desperation at the same time, as you and I do throughout our days. But I try to imagine myself sharing their life here, and I am so thankful for my destiny.

I know this is what Brit saw, and I know this is how she felt and what drew her in. This heart of hers is what brings me here. It brings me closer to her. For  a moment, it fills the space in my heart that misses her so.

Block after block has huge make-shift grills and smokers set up, piled high with grilled chicken, pork and goat. These are the street markets where goods are traded every day and people are fed. This is a survival economy where the buying and selling of goods between these people becomes the economic system that the government fails to provide.

As Port-au-Prince fades and we continue along on our journey, the discomfort of rough roads pales in comparison to the human suffering we just bore witness to.

Gradually, beauty is infused in the landscape and lush tropical vegetation, and mountains of blue and green, draw the eye. We pass many villages - one of which is Leogane,  the epicenter of the Earthquake. Tap-taps crammed with people pass frequently, and I think they are the Uber drivers of Haiti.

At last, our journey comes to an end and we turn onto the mountain road that leads to the orphanage. My brother, of course, built the road. Many of the houses now on this road have been built by our Britsionarys. The transformation from shack to concrete houses makes me smile.

As we drive into the BLB compound, I can hear children singing inside. When I enter the main vestibule, I see all 67 children standing on the chapel altar, singing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. When I sit on a long bench next to my brother to take it in, I am suddenly overwhelmed with a visceral sensation. Brit’s spirit is here, and I can hear her in my head proudly saying, “Chrissy, these are my kids.” I weep inside. Outside I smile. I watch the children’s faces looking for any sign of distress, and I fail to find any. Joy and pride are visible in every one of them. Before I know what hits me, all of them, unsolicited, rush towards us with welcome hugs and kisses on the cheeks!

The next morning, if anyone was foolish enough to still be asleep, the  thunderous voice of “Papi Len” rises up from the courtyard where the children were breakfasting at 6:00am. “Gooooood Morning Grand Goave!” I sit with 6 boys at their table on benches, Waltons’ style, while they eat their homemade bread and egg sandwiches with bananas and milk. I introduce myself in French and tell them I am Papi Len’s sister. This elevates my status immediately, and I feel privileged. But I hit the jackpot because these are my boys – my troubled ones – that I hope to observe and assist while I am here. The stories of their short young lives before Be Like Brit are too painful to tell, and too painful to hear. I ask 2 boys across from me if they like living here. One smiles and says yes. The other boy reports he loves Mami Cherylann and Papi Len. Then a boy sitting next to me teases him for saying that about loving a man. I call Papi Len over and tell him what he said and Lenny bear hugs him and kisses him over the head. He beams.

I move to a girl’s table. In perfect English, a girl says, “Where is your mother?” I answer, “in Heaven.” Then the tiniest little girl at the table asks, “Will they give your mother Christmas presents in Heaven?” I smile and say, “Yes of course.” Little do they know this day is the anniversary of my mother’s death.

We are their memory makers. Go back to your childhood and think about the safety of sleeping in your own bed, waking up with warm greetings from your parents, and eating breakfast everyday. Then add that all up and think about how it made you the person you are today. We are their memory makers just for our time together. This is a sacred and privileged responsibility.

This BLB home rose up out of death and agony, but is filled with joy, love  and safety and the goodness of literally the hundreds of adults that work so hard to sustain this home. And no one works harder than Papi Len and Mami Cherylann, and Jonathan.

In a new world order overshadowed with ISIS evil, I arrived at a place in the world that is a living example of the power and strength found in the inherent goodness of people to change the world for the better. The BeLikeBrit home is much more than an orphanage, it is a  movement towards this end.

But for me, personally, it is the children that have changed me for the better, for I have a renewed hope in the future of this fragile world.