During the early 1980’s, Haiti was under the rule of Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier. The country’s political situation suffered, and shootings were frequent. The country was in a constant limbo between tropical serenity and dangerous chaos.
Martine Coblentz was a child, too young to understand the violence that surrounded her. Born in 1981, she’s the youngest of three sisters. Her parents were a Black Haitian woman, and a white Jewish man from the United States.
“I remember our mango trees in our yard. We’d come back after school and wait for the mango to fall down from the tree,” Martine said. “So yummy fruits, lots of really good food. Time with my grandfather. Time with my uncle. There was also hard times. I remember preparing for when hurricanes would come. And also there were times where it was not safe on the street because there was political unrest.”
Haiti is a beautiful country: a tropical paradise, with white sandy beaches and clear water, coral reefs and mango trees. Her grandfather knew Duvalier, and her family not wanting to get involved with politics had put them in danger.
“They started to get phone calls and threats about the political situation that my dad ended up asking his work to transfer him out of the country so that we could be safe.”
At the age of 5, Martine moved to Guatemala thanks to her father’s contract. Guatemala had a more globalized economy than Haiti, which means Martine had entirely novel and fun experiences that might seem typical for those who have lived in the United States all their lives.
“Well, there was a big adjustment learning a new language, learning a whole other culture and system,” she said. “Guatemala was a little bit more developed than Haiti was at the time. So it was cool for us because we got to go to, like, Taco Bell and McDonald’s. We didn’t get to do that when we lived in Haiti.”
Martine had the opportunity to go to an international school with other children from out of the country like her. As a result, she didn’t feel as out of place as she might have otherwise.
“I had friends from Korea, friends from China, friends from all over Latin America…”
Martine was not used to Guatemala’s temperate environment and beaches, which were rocky and volcanic, with much hotter sands than Haiti’s white beaches. She was young, still, and she didn’t think much about the new change in her life, moving to a new country.
Her father worked for the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) and when his four-year contract in Guatemala was done, he moved his family again.
“We didn’t have a reason to live there anymore.”
Now, Martine was 10 years old, and this time the move would be much harder. Her family moved to the United States, into the Washington, D.C., area. Moving there would bring opportunities for her sisters as they prepared for college. She was excited to be there; she’d seen commercials in Guatemala of things in the U.S. that she couldn’t have in Central America. But the change was difficult for the entire family. Martine remembers crying when she had to say goodbye to her friends in Guatemala and the fear that surged through her when she first stepped onto American soil. Her mother, once an adventurous spirit, then rarely left the house. Martine did feel far more out of place in the United States. For the first time in her life, she’d have to experience racism.
“It’s weird, though, because we’re in the D.C. area. It is very diverse and very metropolitan. Those kids, they all grew up there,” she said. “So I didn’t know how to answer their questions. And I definitely felt out of place there. They asked me if I came on a boat, because a lot of Haitian refugees were coming on a boat. And then they were like, kind of being mean and making fun of me. And then they also called me orange. Because I didn’t know how to answer the ‘what are you?’ question.”
It was hard to be a bi-racial immigrant in a country that cares so much about color and labels, especially in the 1990s. She faced a lot of hardship in her early years in the United States, but slowly, she became more comfortable.
In high school, she became interested in leadership. Being in such a diverse place and hearing the stories of others, she wanted to bring everybody in her life together. After graduating high school in 1999, Martine volunteered at a camp on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona, where she was able to cement her skillset in helping others. She also happened to meet her future husband.
Martine went on to obtain her undergraduate degree at Temple University in Philadelphia where she specialized in Adult and Organizational Development. She continued her education at Portland State University, earning her master’s in Conflict Resolution. During this time, she started to work with families whose children were at risk of being put in foster care due to domestic abuse or violence. Her fluency in Spanish and cultural understanding allowed her to create deep relationships with the Hispanic immigrant families she’d often work with.
Martine’s last job was working in Portland as a Diversity Equity and Inclusion officer for the county, and currently she works for the Port of Portland as the Director of Culture and Strategy. Her work is centered around helping people to feel like they belong. Her desire to create belonging for everybody no matter where someone comes from was influenced by her moving to the United States where she did not fit into the dominant culture.
“I get to help people develop the skills and tools to have really hard conversations and not shy away from them so they can work through their problems and conflicts,” Martine states. “Everybody gets to be included no matter their race, their power or position. We’re creating a culture of belonging at work, which is really important. It has an impact on people in their lives.”