I’m sure you’ve heard the label: “Haiti, the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.” But at Matènwa, we’re interested in a different narrative—one that we write ourselves.
This month MCLC held an Espas Ouvè (Open Space) at the school to answer this question: Is Lagonav poor? To some, it might seem strange to spend a whole day talking about this when things are so hard.
But MCLC’s leaders believe that if you want to change your life, you have to start by changing the story you tell yourself about what’s possible. You can’t build a future on a foundation of "destitution."
So they asked participants: “Is it possible for Lagonav to produce everything it needs to become richer?” Then, we got out of the way and let the parents and students get to work. They broke into three groups, and their conclusions were anything but “poor.”
1. The Myth of Poverty: One group took on the question: “Is Lagonav rich?” Their answer was a flat “Yes.” They looked at the soil, the sea, and the skills on this island and concluded that Lagonav isn't poor—we just haven’t put our heads together (tèt ansanm) to exploit the riches we already have. The problem isn't a lack of resources; it’s that we haven’t valued our own products. They realized that every time we look to the “gran tè” (the mainland) for food we could grow ourselves, we’re giving away our wealth.
2. The Power of the Group: Another group asked: “How can a poor person become rich?” They didn’t talk about lotteries or handouts. They talked about work. But more importantly, they talked about cooperation. They decided that the way forward is for everyone to find their own specific trade—whether it's sewing, farming, or building—and then grouping those small businesses together. In Matènwa, we know that one person struggling alone stays poor. A group working together makes progress.
3. Changing Our Habits: The final group looked at the practical side. Is agriculture the only answer? No. But it’s the foundation. They realized that to be "rich," we have to stop the habit of buying expensive, imported goods when our neighbors are producing better food right here. They concluded that if we want to be a wealthy island, we have to be an island that supports its own.
This wasn't just an academic discussion. It was a refusal to accept the world's labels. When our parents and students say, "Lagonav is rich; Lagonav is not poor," they are reclaiming their dignity. They are saying that they have the intellect, the land, and the drive to thrive.
But here is the blunt truth: Potential isn't the same as infrastructure.
Lagonav has the soil, but we need the tools to terrace it. We have the brilliant minds, but our young women need the scholarships to stay in the classrooms. We have the desire to buy local, but our farmers need the training to scale up their production so there is enough for everyone.
That is where you come in. You aren't here to "fix" Lagonav or "save" Matènwa. You are here as the potò mitan—the center post that helps us hold up this roof while we build the house. Your support provides the leverage our community needs to turn its "richness" into reality.
When you give to Matènwa you are investing in a community that has already decided it is worth the effort. You are providing the tools so that one day, we won't have to ask for them anymore.
Thank you for being the partner that makes this self-determination possible.
Peace,
Chris
