Little Haiti

In 1895, the area that we now call Downtown Miami was home to just 9 settlers. Approximately 2 miles north, along Biscayne Bay, was the farming town of Lemon City with the much more impressive population count of about 300. In the very early 20th century, Lemon City became prosperous, not only as a producer of lemons, oranges, pineapples, tomatoes and eggplants, but as a true crossroads when several connecting roads were built along and across the Florida East Coast Railroad, linking Lemon City with its growing neighbor to the south – Miami.

In 1925 the City of Miami annexed Lemon City, but the name lived on as Lemon City became a neighborhood within Miami. By the 1950s, Lemon City and the neighboring community to its north, Little River, had seen tremendous growth – both residential and commercial. And then the expressway system was built, taking away the area’s status as a crossroads and allowing the middle class to move further from the city center. With the end of segregation in the 1960s, African-Americans gained choices beyond the “colored towns” of Liberty City and Overtown, and many took up residence in the area.

At the same time, Francois Duvalier’s military dictatorship had seized total control of Haiti. Also known as Papa Doc, Duvalier used his military police force, the Tonton Macoutes, to terrorize the Haitian people into submission and 30,000 Haitians were killed by his government. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Haitian refugees began arriving in Miami and settling in the neighborhoods of Lemon City, Little River and Buena Vista. When Papa Doc Duvalier died in 1971, power was passed to his 19 year old son, Jean-Claude Duvalier, referred to often as Baby Doc. Under Jean-Claude’s rule, Haiti descended even deeper into economic and social despair.

Between 1977 and 1981, over 60,000 Haitians arrived by boat in South Florida, a large percentage of which joined the Haitian pioneers in Lemon City and Little River. Haitians arrived to find formidable obstacles and were, in general, not made to feel welcome in their new home. The U.S. government assisted Cubans as refugees from a political system, but rejected Haitians as economic refugees. There were no employment opportunities or social services for Kreyol-speaking Haitians, and like African-Americans, Haitians suffered racial discrimination. In addition to language obstacles and racial prejudices, Haitians had to deal with misconceptions, and often outright hostility, towards their practice of Vodou.

In spite of the challenges, Haitians continue to make their way to Miami, hoping for a better life. Haitians now make up around 10% of the population of Miami, and Little Haiti is now one of the largest neighborhoods in Miami. There are lots of Haitian and Caribbean restaurants, Haitian bookstores and botanicas (vodou shops). There are Haitian markets and salons and Haitian music stores selling kompa, rara and misik rasin style CDs. Amidst all of this, in true Miami fashion, there is an English punk bar called Churchill’s in the heart of Little Haiti. Mwe renmen Miami Ayisyen.

Stiltsville

Stiltsville might very well win the honor of Miami’s most unique neighborhood. The community now known as Stiltsville emerged during the Prohibition years, when a haphazard neighborhood of wooden houses built on concrete pilings, or stilts, sprang up in a shallow part of Biscayne Bay. Originally just referred to as “the shacks,” Stiltsville helped cement a “sun and sin” tone for Miami that still thrives today. In the late 1920s and early 1930s, the wooden houses in the bay were enjoyed as relaxing fishing outposts by day, and by night as racy speakeasies complete with gambling, prostitution and Al Capone. At its peak, Stiltsville was comprised of about 25 residences, along with two notorious nightclubs – the Quarterdeck and Pierre’s Bikini Club. The number of structures fluctuated due to their vulnerable location during hurricanes. During the 1970s, the community was forced to comply with Dade County zoning ordinances and no new structures were allowed. In 1980, Biscayne Bay National Park annexed Stiltsville, and the National Park Service declared Stiltsville to be a detraction from “the character of a pristine and public property.” Basically, the wooden shacks were an eyesore and they needed to go. After many years of battle for and against saving Stiltsville, a compromise was reached in 2000. The remaining 7 Stiltsville houses will remain unless they are destroyed by a hurricane. In the meantime, the Stiltsville Trust has been formed to create an acceptable public use for the houses such as community meeting spaces or possibly a Biscayne National Park interpretive center.

Allapattah

Allapattah is just the kind of Miami neighborhood that inspired this project. Located geographically as the very core of the city, and with an ethnic mix that is quintessentially Miami, Allapattah exists surprisingly unnoticed by many, if not most, Miamians. Certainly most of the people that I have asked, many who have lived here for years, had never even heard of it. Allapattah, which means “alligator” in Seminole, was home to a few Florida Cracker families and a group of Miccosukees until the 1920s, when African-American railroad workers settled in part of the neighborhood. During the 1940s, Allapattah was used by the military as a major training and housing center for the troops. After the war, the government used eminent domain to evict African-American families to make room for new homes and schools for Euro-Americans. By the late 1960s, western Allapattah was home to mainly Cubans, while the eastern section was heavily Puerto Rican. Throughout the seventies, the county claimed more and more of Allapattah for housing projects and detention centers. During the riots of 1980, much of the business center was burned down, and in the early eighties, many of the long-time residents gave up and moved to the suburbs. The neighborhood quickly took on a new flavor as new Miamians from the Dominican Republic, Haiti, Honduras and Nicaragua moved in to fill the void. Today, Allapattah is sometimes called Dominican Town and the neighborhood certainly has a strong Dominican presence. Geographically and culturally, Allapattah connects Latino Miami with African-American Miami with Caribbean Miami and the diversity of Allapattah is truly amazing – and that it remains so non-chalant in its uniqueness is so fucking Miami.

Little Havana

The history and character of Miami were radically changed when Che Guevara and Fidel Castro seized power of the island of Cuba, in 1959. Immediately following La Revolución, thousands of Cubans fled to Miami to live as exiles. They settled mainly in the Riverside neighborhood, which quickly became known as Little Havana. In the 1960s, “freedom flights” brought tens of thousands of Cubans to Miami, and by the early disco era, Miami was home to more than a half o’ million Cubanos. In 1980, the Mariel Boatlift brought 150,000 migrants in a period of six months. The exodus continues today, with Cubans risking their lives to touch ground in Miami.

Cubans are now the ethnic group of majority in Miami, and Little Havana is just one of many neighborhoods that are dominated by el sabor Cubano. La Calle Ocho, is Little Havana’s main street, and it’s easy to see the growing presence of Nicaraguans, Salvadorans and Hondurans, but the area is still clearly the geographic and symbolic center of the Cuban Exile community. Little Havana feels, probably not surprisingly, wedged solidly between Cuba and the U.S. There are traditional hand-rolled cigar shops next to Pizza Huts, ¡Viva Bush! bumper stickers and Santería sacrifices. The benches on the corners are filled with baggy-panted hip hop kids and old men playing dominos – all striving for the Cuban-American dream.

Overtown / Fashion District

Welcome to Okapi Visuals...an extension of The Lair of the Okapi

A few weeks ago, my friend and I went on a photo expedition into a few of the more overlooked neighborhoods in Miami. We've decided to go on urban photo safaris at least once a month, trying to document some of the things that make Miami so bananas. These were snapped in the neighborhoods of Overtown and the Fashion District.

Overtown, one of Miami's original neighborhoods, is also one of the city's longest neglected areas. In the early 1900s, Jim Crow laws relegated African-Americans, many of whom had come to build the railroad, to the area just north of downtown. Then known as Colored Town, the neighborhood has always struggled with poverty and munipal neglect. Despite its hardships, Colored Town became an outpost of the vibrant African-American culture and arts scene of the mid-20th century. The main street, Northwest Second Avenue, became known as Little Broadway for its nightclubs, theaters and dancehalls and regular performances by cool cats like Count Basie, Billie Holiday and Josephine Baker. In the '60s, when official segregation ended, the African-American middle class moved out and two major elevated highways were contructed right through the heart of the community, nearly destroying it. By the 1980s, Overtown was known mainly for race riots and crack.

Now, Overtown is eerily desolate. It feels like Mad Max Beyond Miami with its abandoned and graffitti'd buildings, vast expaneses of empty lots and an occasional post-apocalyptic encampment of vagabonds and crackheads. Just to the north of Overtown is an oddly clandestine area of mainly warehouses and wholesale garment stores called the Fashion District. Despite the name this area is anything but glamourous, and like Overtown, it feels a bit barren. A few years back, the Fashion District was a mainly Puerto Rican neighborhood, but recently Koreans have laid claim to the area, and now signs are written in Spanish, English and Korean - so Miami.