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NEW YORK — <\/span>Steel drums, flag-draped floats, and the smell of jerk chicken will fill Brooklyn\u2019s Eastern Parkway on Monday, as hundreds of thousands turn out for the West Indian Day Parade<\/a>, one of the largest celebrations of Caribbean culture in the country.<\/p>\n This year, Haitians are marching under more solemn circumstances than in prior years. Federal immigration enforcement has intensified against Caribbean and other Black immigrant communities over the past year, and Haitians have lost a key protection<\/a> \u2014 temporary protected status. Known as TPS, it let hundreds of thousands remain in the U.S. legally. <\/p>\n Organizers say the parade has become both a defiant assertion of pride and a rare bright spot in a traumatic year.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s a somber cloud over it with everything that has happened from last year to this year with TPS … what\u2019s happening in detention centers, and those who are being sent back with no valid way of living or supporting themselves,\u201d said Natalie Lafontant, a Brooklyn native who organizes Lespri Ayiti, or \u201cSpirit of Haiti,\u201d the largest Haitian \u201cmas\u201d \u2014 short for masquerade \u2014 or marching community in Monday\u2019s parade.<\/p>\n Still, she said, the response to hardship is not surrender.<\/p>\n \u201cBut if you know anything about the Caribbean, especially about Haiti, we use music, dance, art, to continue to strive and push through,\u201d Lafontant said while taking stock of parade costumes at a community center.<\/p>\n In June, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 in Mullin v. Doe that federal courts cannot review the Trump administration\u2019s decision<\/a> to end temporary protected status for Haitian and Syrian immigrants, clearing the way for roughly 350,000 Haitians to lose the protection. A federal judge finalized the order in early August, and work permits tied to Haitian TPS<\/a> expired July 27.<\/p>\n Lafontant\u2019s group, comprising about 180 artists, designers, musicians and residents, is marching in the parade for the second year. The group struggled to find float sponsors this year.<\/p>\n \u201cAll the insurances that we\u2019ve got to cover, the people who walk, you\u2019ve got to take care of them, the costumes, the designers. You add that all up, it\u2019s a very hefty bill. But we continue to do it because we love our country,\u201d said Lafontant.<\/p>\n Lafontant is part of a Haitian community that numbers roughly 163,000 in the New York metropolitan area, according to the Migration Policy Institute \u2014 the second-largest Haitian population in the U.S. after the Miami metropolitan area.<\/p>\n Most Haitian migrants settled in Brooklyn neighborhoods including Flatbush, East Flatbush and Crown Heights.<\/p>\n Haitians arrived in New York in waves beginning under the dictatorship of Jean-Claude \u201cBaby Doc\u201d Duvalier, whose regime\u2019s repression and economic collapse drove many to leave the island in the 1970s and 1980s. The migration continued after his 1986 ouster.<\/p>\n Haiti\u2019s history of resistance runs deeper still, back to the Haitian Revolution, when enslaved and free Black people overthrew French colonial rule in what is widely regarded as the only successful slave revolt in modern history, culminating in the 1803 Battle of Verti\u00e8res. The victory paved the way for Haiti\u2019s independence the following year.<\/p>\n That history of resistance remains a source of pride for Haitians far beyond the country\u2019s shores, even among generations who have built new lives abroad.<\/p>\n Edwina Paul, founder of SPM, or \u201cFanm Se Poto Mitan\u201d \u2014 \u201cWomen Are the Pillar of Society\u201d \u2014 left Haiti in 1993 to start a new life with her husband in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Canarsie. Paul, whose coalition of Haitian women leaders and organizers is marching Monday, said conditions in Haiti are what pushed people to leave.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not safe there. Coming here is like an umbrella for us to be safe from that,\u201d she said of those fleeing the country\u2019s gang violence and instability. \u201cWe don\u2019t come here to sin, we don\u2019t come here to kill. We come here to work, to have a better education.\u201d<\/p>\n SPM’s resilience is stitched into its costumes this year. Clara Poteau, a fashion designer and an alumna of the Fashion Institute of Technology, designed royal blue emperor robes in the image of Jean-Jacques Dessalines, a lieutenant and leader of the Haitian Revolution and the first leader of an independent Haiti.<\/p>\n A total of six designers and one painter spent a month hand-painting costumes that commemorate Haitian achievements, working through the weekend before the parade: dresses covered in miniature Haitian flags, skirts bearing the faces of Duckens Nazon and Emmanuel Sanon, the national football players who hold Haiti\u2019s international scoring records, at 44 and 47 goals, respectively. <\/p>\n One orange T-shirt, dubbed the \u201cFreedom\u201d tee, carries the flags of nations Haitian revolutionary leaders helped liberate with shelter, money, weapons, and troops, including Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Panama, Mexico and Greece.<\/p>\n The sound of the mas, the first taste of Haitian energy parade attendees will experience before seeing the group, is carried forward by Jesus Luc, a Harlem native and Lespri Ayiti\u2019s band manager. Luc coordinated a lineup built around \u201cRaboday,\u201d a popular genre of contemporary Haitian and Caribbean sounds, and Kompa, Haiti\u2019s signature native dance music. <\/p>\n Headlining is DJ Comix of the band Team Madada, dubbed by Luc as \u201cprobably the most popular group in Haiti,\u201d part of a new generation of sound defining the country\u2019s youth.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s electrifying. It\u2019s music that will touch your soul. Between the music and the costumes… it\u2019s the heart of the people that\u2019s going to be there.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n