Now a professor, Dr. Lilite, professor of music and director of vocal studios at Cedarville University, is once again using his voice. Instead of a powerful solo promising to leave a packed church speechless, he is instead using his voice to advocate for his fellow Haitians in Springfield. His message is one that goes beyond politics: behind the stereotypes and anti-immigrant rhetoric are good people that deserve to be seen.
“I can see the struggle, see the shame in those who can’t get what they hoped to find here,” Lilite said.
Lilite’s understanding of their plight comes from lived experience. The professor of music was born in La Plaine-des-Palmistes, grew up in the impoverished neighborhood of Fort Mercredi in Haiti’s capital, and studied for years in the U.S. Today he is an American citizen but has never forgotten his roots. He sees much of himself in Ohio’s Haitian population.
Coming to America
Music and family have been the ever present cornerstones of Lilite’s life. The former paved the way for the success he now enjoys and the latter served as a refuge from bullying and a rapidly deteriorating world.
“Growing up in Port-au-Prince, for me, was very hard. Not on the homefront. As far as my family was concerned, I always enjoyed being part of my family. But we lived in a poor area,” Lilite said. “There was a lot of chaos growing up, but, in many ways, I felt shielded from a lot of it when I was home.”
The professor vividly remembers the fall of the Duvalier dynasty of dictators that ruled Haiti for decades starting in 1957. When Jean-Claude Duvalier was ousted on Feb. 7, 1986, there were celebrations. Then slowly things began to fall apart.
“That season was very difficult, even though everybody was cheering when he was no longer in power. I saw crimes escalating after his departure,” Lilite said. “Because they were dictators, there was some sort of order because you couldn’t just do whatever you wanted. If I left my neighborhood I could go to downtown Port-au-Prince where there were beautiful parks, where the art scene was vibrant. But after (Duvalier) left, we started seeing the vibrant art scene start waning, then it became dirtier and dirtier.”
Lilite’s father was a home missionary who studied music, picking up skills he would pass on to his children. His habit of singing and teaching would have a profound effect on Lilite, eventually leading to the church solo that changed his life.
“When he was home, he would sing, he would play, and would ask whatever child was around to come and read music with him. He taught me how to read music,” Lilite said about his father.
Family once again played a pivotal role, when, as a teenager, his brother Jean paid $21 for him to go to a music camp in the northern part of Haiti. While initially rejected for not being able to play piano, his sister Magda urged them to teach him even if it was only 15-minute lessons.
“They agreed and so I started taking 15-minute lessons, keeping myself in the practice room (where I) would practice and practice. People began realizing that there was something there. That’s really how it all started,” said Lilite.
By 17, Lilite had graduated high school and been accepted into multiple conservatories in America. He applied for his student visa and was rejected. It would take 13 applications over two and a half years before he would finally get his F1 visa to study in California in the late ‘90s.
“We would go to the consulate and then there would be these huge lines outside, sort of like bread lines,” Lilite said. “We had to get there really early in the morning, maybe around 5:30. Then you would wait because they did not open the doors until noon. Sometimes you would wait in line only to not get in because they only had so many seats.”
Sacrifice became common, with the future professor often going hungry out of financial necessity. It would eventually pay off and lead him to Eastman.
“By the time I got there I was walking on cloud nine,” Lilite said. “I couldn’t believe that that little boy from Haiti was at the Eastman School of Music alongside all those amazing musicians.”
Using his voice
It is as a professor at Cedarville University that Lilite is using his voice for a cause that is close to his heart: the many Haitians currently living under a cloud of uncertainty in the U.S. as they wait to hear if their Temporary Protected Status will be revoked.
“With the protected status they had with TPS, they felt hopeful because it’s something that allowed them to start planning,” Lilite said. “When there began to be more talk surrounding just ending it completely there was a lot of uncertainty. I saw a lot of anxiety, a lot of fear, a lot of shame, and anger unfortunately. Some of the parents are just trying desperately to find a way to make it.”
He has seen the shame many carry after losing jobs and the hurt of not being able to fulfill their own American dream.
“My main message is not one that is political in nature. I think it’s personal and spiritual - to remember that we are humans and that what makes us human is that we have breath in our lungs,” he said. “Just remember that while we breathe, there are people who are afraid to do so. (We should) be willing to breathe so authentically that our eyes can be open to see those that are suffering.”
The academic hopes a return to neighborliness will lead to greater unity that goes beyond the divisiveness seen so often today.
“This is not an immigration issue, this is a human issue,” Lilite said. “We can extend that same grace and kindness to someone who doesn’t look like us, eat what we eat, or do what we do because we are stronger together. That’s a very Haitian message: l’union fait la force. United we stand.”
About the Author