North Miami

Hannah has a Story: Young Haitian girl’s book shares adoption tale

 

A young Haitian girl tells the story of her journey from an orphanage to her new home with her adoptive South Florida parents. Her children’s book is on sale at North Miami’s Museum of Contemporary Art.

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Hannah Lowenstein is a painter and author who uses the proceeds of her work to help orphaned kids in Haiti.

She is also 10 years old.

Hannah, herself an orphan who grew up in the Lef Cananaitf Orphanage in Montrouif, Haiti, had already lived a lifetime in her short years before she was adopted by a South Florida couple.

She tells the story, through her artwork and words, in a 40-page children’s book on sale at North Miami’s Museum of Contemporary Art.

Hannah, a home schooled fifth-grader who lives Pompano Beach , caught the eye of MOCA director Bonnie Clearwater after North Miami Mayor Andre Pierre — who shares a mutual friend with Hannah’s father — passed along the book.

"MOCA is the museum where new art is discovered,” said Clearwater. “So I’m always looking for new artists.”

The book, simply titled Hannah Has a Story is a colorful work filled with scenes of nature painted with vivid acrylic paint. Hannah shares her story of life in an orphanage in Haiti, and of her adoption by Susan and Jerry Lowenstein.

When Clearwater saw Hannah’s book, she got a hold of Hannah’s mother, Susan Lowenstein. She was particularly impressed with Hannah’s brush strokes, and use of color.

She offered her a two-week scholarship to MOCA’s youth summer arts program, and told her the book as well as greeting cards displaying Hannah’s artwork would be sold in the museum’s gift shop .

Hannah, who was born Yoldine Jean on May 25, 2002, lived with her very young biological mother in the orphanage. Her mother wanted a better life for her daughter, and gave her up for adoption.

In 2004, all of their lives would change. Hannah met her future adoptive parents, Susan and Jerry, a general contractor and owner of North Star Contractor. The Lowensteins, who have no other children, met Hannah on their visit to Haiti to donate food and medicine to the orphanage.

While taking part in a short religious service, Susan Lowenstein said Hannah walked over to her.

“This little girl came and crawled into my lap and that was it," said Susan Lowenstein. "I knew Hannah was meant to be with us.”

The Lowensteins fell in love with Hannah. They decided to adopt her.

But the legal and bureaucratic process to adopt a child from Haiti was much more complicated than the Lowensteins expected.

"In the beginning I thought the process would take six months or a year," said Susan Lowenstein, who along with her husband made frequent trips to visit Hannah and deliver much-needed supplies during the years they were waiting for the adoption to come through .

"I had no idea how difficult it was going to be," said Susan Lowenstein, who homeschools Hannah three times a week. The remaining days the girl attends Westminster Academy’s ACE Program Fort Lauderdale.

But once Hannah — who chose a new name for herself — was finally able to move in with the Lowensteins in 2010, the transition was unexpectedly bumpy for both parents and child. Hannah didn’t speak English. Her parents didn’t speak Creole. The little girl was reserved and had her parents worried they would not be able to connect with her.

Having never left the orphanage in Haiti, her new home in South Florida was overwhelming. She missed her friends at the orphanage.

Read more Haitian Link stories from the Miami Herald

  • Sharing my defining moment

    Exhibit A – Less than a year ago I opened the online edition of the daily Le Nouvelliste looking for my usual Haiti fix. This time I was in for a big shock: a vehemently acidic piece where this physician was spewing out his homophobic rant. His argument that gay relationships would result in a lowering of the population misses the point that some heterosexual marriages don’t result in children for whatever reason.Exhibit B – The conversation shifted to Jason Collins, the basketball player who just announced he was gay.A good friend of mine who has spent his life fighting for justice and equal rights was at ease to denounce the LGBTQ community and, in particular, their quest for marriage equality. LGBTQ stands for lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender and questioning.  He may have assumed I was on his side.Exhibit C – At a Prideline meeting, a community-based organization charged to provide social and emotional support to young LGBTQ individuals, I turned suddenly into a witness. I listened to a few young gay and lesbian Haitian-Americans share their story of rejection from their mother or father. Many of these kids are homeless or living with friends just because they were born with the hardware and software steering them toward same-sex relationship. Parents just stop being nurturing parents.Same-sex relationship may be the only issue that Haitians have a consensus on regardless of their ideology, socioeconomic status or religion. I guess the strong religious bent of the Haitian people blinded them to the reality of discrimination and injustice that LGBTQ folks endure each day of their lives.  Folks are born gay or black or white. The same way it’s unreasonable to confer benefits to White folks because of their skin color, it’s also unfair to fault gays or blacks for their sexual preference or the color of their skin or deny them the benefits that are afforded every other member of society. Let’s just say it: it’s very strange that those of us who have faced discrimination because of immigration or social status are now in the business of discriminating against the LGBTQ community.I have evolved on this issue.My defining moment on the issue of homosexuality came about ten or eleven years ago when I picked Edwidge Danticat’s The butterfly’s way, this compilation of essays and poetry written by more than thirty Haitian-American authors narrating their experiences, sharing their stories, raising their voices, breaking their silence and speaking their own brand of truth.Of all the thirty three stories forming this great anthology, Assoto Saint (né Yves Lubin) story stuck with me: his trajectory as a proud gay man growing up in Les Cayes in the 60’s and then in New York starting in the 70’s.Read what Yves had to say about his childhood.“I must have been seven when I realized my attraction to men”. “All I wanted to do with girls was skip rope, put make up on their faces, and comb their hair”. He went on to say that “knowing Pierre was a turning point for me. The loneliness of thinking that I was the only one with homosexual tendencies subsided”.Keep reading with me.Now in New York at the age of 13 or 14, Yves “kept fantasizing that there was a homosexual world out there I knew nothing of. I remember looking up in amazement as we walked beneath the elevated train, then telling mother I didn’t want to go back to Haiti”.Yves talking about himself when he was a child: “straight A’s, ran like a girl, silky eyebrows – I was the kind of child someone saw and thought quick something didn’t click”. A professional dancer, Assoto Saint died of AIDS in 1994 at the age of 37. Proud to be an ally of the LGBTQ community!

  • Konpa music as social and political commentary

    Konpa music has been knocked as genre for the simplicity of its rhythm and the way its lyrics are often not sophisticated.With Konpa, it’s always felt that what counts is not how the lyrics can inspire the listeners, but whether or not people can dance to the music. The message was secondary to the music, and the musicians seem to want to walk on safer grounds rather than push the envelop when it comes to lyrics critical of the political environment.The year 1986 imprinted its mark on every aspect of Haiti’s social and political life. People were more inclined to speak their minds and felt freer not to be the spokesperson of the political rulers of the day. Konpa, as a musical genre, also reflected that new sociopolitical period in our life.Throughout the 60’s and 70’s, Tropicana and Septentrional made it their duty to compose songs that were favor of the dictatorship. In one song, Septentrional told us: “Francois, our father, sit as comfortably a possible on the presidential chair; the people love you”.Bossa Combo was always referred as “Jean Claude Duvalier’s musical group”. Generally, if these musicians don’t become Duvalier apologists, their next likely theme is women – or better yet, a smear campaign against women. Here deceased Koupe Kloure had no competition. No voice ever arose to say: Enough.These are new times. One can criticize the political rulers of the day and not feel the brunt of their repression. The ruler can deny you access to the Carnival or pressure the radio stations not to play a particular song, but jail time is out of the question.It’s ironic that Sweet Micky spent his whole career castigating the Lavalas government for their alleged involvement in various cases of corruption. However, the same Micky, now as president of the country, had no problems removing one the critical musicians of his regime from this year’s Carnival for his song, aloral. Credit should be given to the roots musicians – Eddy Francois, Boukmann Eksperyans or RAM – for producing the most patriotic type of music.Richie Herard, ex Zenglen, may now be one of the two best Konpa composers; Dadou Pasquet is the other one. It seems that there is a conscious effort on his part to go against three things that Konpa music has traditionally been guilty of: lyrics that were too simple; a negative social message and an arrangement that hasn’t worked out too well.Richie’s album “Nou kapab jere ti sa”, released about eight years ago, may be one of the best Konpa albums ever produced for the quality of the lyrics and the music. You can dance to the music if that’s what you feel like doing. You can also sit back and listen.I believe this is the greatest change in the Konpa music industry. Today the musicians may not be better musicians, but they are better educated. Pasquet, Richie and Rolls Roro Laine of Djakout Mizik are extremely thoughtful individuals. (Someone should advise Laine to be quiet once in Martelly’s presence; his strident (and crazy) “Martelly avi” comments left too many uncomfortable.) It’s no surprise that Magnum Band and Djakout Mizik may be the best in town.These thoughts came to mind as Konpa lovers from Haiti and the Diaspora converged in Miami last Saturday to dance to the sounds of Konpa.The next great battle lies in our musicians’ ability to make sure that Konpa music has successfully crossed over. It’s not impossible!

  • In Miami, Donna Karan showcases Haitian artisans

    The handbag Donna Karan was showing off Friday lacked her signature logo, or any designer's logo. It was made of paper mache and, the fashion designer said, represented Haiti's handmade carnival masks - in wearable form.

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