Coral in the Diaspora by Jerrice J. Baptiste

Two months ago, Jerrice J. Baptiste guested here and she’s already got a new book of poetry, Coral in the Diaspora, available for pre-sale! Hearing successes of other authors always makes me optimistic that my books (here’s info about them) will be published soon too!

To refresh your memory, Jerrice was born in Haiti, writes for all ages, founded Authentic Poetry workshops in The Hudson Valley, New York, and has been widely published.

Jerrice describes the background to her latest book: “I find great peace and joy in creating a Great-grandmother narrative or poem. In order to write one, I have to contemplate the qualities that I admire most about the older generations. In Haiti, our elders show how much they value the younger generation by calling each one in Creole pitit mwen, my child. Recently, I’ve been thinking more about how communities are formed and function since my book Coral in the Diaspora is due to be published by Abode Press (August 2024). In order for a community to be successful, each member must value the contribution of each other and can rely on their true inner goodness. Each person in the community is seen basically as good and important. No one is seen as less than another.”

Check out the fun video Abode uploaded to their author page for Jerrice here and her own website…

Interlude by Jerrice J. Baptiste

Kneeling over, she wipes the cherimoya juice spilled on the living room cement floor. I greet her, “Bonjou manmi Immacula, koman ou ye?” she responds, “Bonjou pitit mwen.” I smile at her greeting me like the morning sun at mountaintop as I help her to stand on both feet. Her braided silver hair glimmers near her earlobes.

I jump in with a towel to absorb the juice then ring it outside into the gutter several times. “Mesi pitit mwen,” she says. “Wi manmi,” I answer her. The cement is sticky and shiny from the juice of the sweet white fruit. I help my surrogate mother mop the floor. 

*    *     *

We have moved so far away from It takes a village to raise a child. Parents were not the only ones who wanted the best for their child. All adults in a community were responsible for the education of children and therefore invested time, energy, attention in their upbringing. Parents didn’t need to have eyes in the back of their heads, they knew that there were eyes everywhere in their village looking out for their children. Maybe, this concept can also take root in suburbs, towns, smaller cities wherever we call home. We do live in a different world full of fear damaging our sense of safety and challenging our beliefs that people are basically good. As we move towards forming true communities, we will have a chance at creating the characteristics we want to see in our youth. I imagine a world of independent thinkers who value the goodness in each other and bringing their best to the overall global community having received an education that truly matters. Yes, it starts with the elders, going back to a precious time of calling them manmi, and papi even though they may be just our neighbors. 

Gift by Jerrice J. Baptiste

Great grandmother wraps stones in burlap: aquamarine, amber, citrine, opal, red coral, turquoise. Her great grandchildren sit quietly with their hands over their eyes, waiting to be called forward. Great grandmother waves under their nose a segment of pomegranate, mango, guava, passion fruit, or papaya. Each child inhales scent of the ripe fruit with eyes closed. The children’s giggles rise above the beach hut after giving the right name of the fruit. Then, they open their eyes and choose a precious stone in burlap. Each child wishes for the power to be strong, kind, truthful, creative, confident, or courageous just like the trait of their chosen stone.  After playing the game, the children admire them in starlight and beam with joy.