Hundreds of people are showing up and it’s unbelievable. I’ve just taught my last class for the day and this middle-aged woman approaches me. She’s holding my hand and I can’t help but stare the wounds on her body. Her arms have scratches and she has a black eye. This man keeps yelling at her and pulls her by the arm. She lets go of me. They’re shouting back and forth in creole but I can’t understand them. He storms off in anger and she holds my hand again. She stares at me and all I can see is fear. This look it looks so familiar. I can’t help but think of my mother right now. That look this woman is giving me resembles my mothers. I sense the vulnerability, despair, and fear in her. She smiles at me then and says “Thank you.” I don’t hesitate to give her hug.
When it came time for me to come back home, I was so sad because I missed my students. I was so thankful for all the people I got to help and all the friends I made. It was truly a life changing experience for me. When I came back home that Haitian woman was still on mind. My mother has lived a long life of abuse from my father. The pain and suffering I saw in her eyes growing up were so much similar to the Haitian Woman. In some way, I felt her pain because I knew what she was going