Overview:
The recent confirmation that the newly elected pope is descended from Haitian and Creole ancestors from New Orleans has stirred both curiosity and pride among Haitian Americans. The revelation challenges common assumptions about Haitians as new immigrants and reinforces the community’s deep roots in American history.
When word first spread that the newly elected pope had Haitian ancestry, many of us in the newsroom were skeptical. And understandably so.
Over the years, there’s been a proclivity for some in the Haitian diaspora to attempt to claim anyone who has an ounce of lineage or connection to Haiti. Celebrities like Usher, Beyoncé, Kevin Durant and Steph Curry have all been names floated as potential “Haitians,” with much of this coming from a quest to find positive representation of Haitians that Americans would widely accept.
Ultimately, however, the “rumors” regarding the new pontiff were true.
Within hours of the announcement that Robert Francis Prevost, who took the name Pope Leo XIV, was selected as the new pope, The New York Times confirmed that Leo “is descended from Creole people of color from New Orleans,” and that his maternal grandfather, a Black man, was born in “Hayti.”
While it may appear to some a minor footnote in his genealogy, this revelation signifies something much more poignant and symbolic for the Haitian community.
Leo’s Haitian ancestry is more than a headline or detail in his family chart; it’s about being seen and recognizing Haitians’ rich history in the United States.
Too often, Haitians in the U.S. are treated as outsiders and as a recent immigrant group despite our long history in the U.S. Our presence in the country is questioned and vilified, forcing many in our community to defend their lives in the U.S., as though we’ve arrived just yesterday.
But the pope’s ancestry and family history tell a different story – a truer one.
His family’s journey from New Orleans to Chicago mirrors the experiences of thousands of free Black and Creole with Haitian lineage who made their way through America in the 19th and early 20th centuries.
Here are three ways in which Haiti’s contributions were instrumental to America’s victory over British rule.
In New Orleans, Haitian families helped build one of the most culturally rich Black communities in the U.S., contributing language, cuisine and religious traditions. From there, many migrated north in search of opportunity, landing in cities like Chicago, a city that, fittingly, was founded by Jean Baptiste Point du Sable, a Haitian immigrant.
The pope carries that legacy in his blood, even if it’s rarely spoken aloud.
We also see the threads of Haiti’s fabric reach the halls of the Vatican and come full circle for the community with Haiti’s first cardinal, Chibly Langlois, be part of the process in selecting the Catholic Church’s new leader – a powerful reminder of our interconnectedness.
In 2008, the morning after Barack Obama was elected president, my college professor opened class with time for us, students, to share what Obama’s election meant for them.
I’ll never forget a classmate of mine, a young Black man, shared that for the first time in his life, he felt American. It didn’t matter whether his family had been in the country for generations. Without that representation, he felt othered, and never truly a part of this country the way his White counterparts did.
That’s how this moment feels to me.
It’s not that we need validation to prove we belong. We don’t. But there’s something powerful in watching the world acknowledge what we’ve always known: Haitians are part of the American story. Not a footnote. Not an asterisk, but an integral part in shaping American culture.
Too often, the narrative around Haitian immigrants focuses on crisis, poverty and displacement. But we are more than the stories told about us. We are teachers and nurses, business owners and pastors. We are freedom fighters who helped liberate others before fully freeing ourselves.
We are descendants of those brave fighters who overthrew one of the most brutal colonial systems to create the first Black republic in the Americas.
The pope’s Haitian ancestry doesn’t elevate our value. But it does reflect it. And for a community that has fought hard to be seen in its full humanity, especially given the assault on Haitian immigrants in the U.S. and the denial of America’s multicultural legacy, all of this matters.