Konbit Pou Ayiti

It has been a year since my friend and colleague, Dr. Lovinsky Pierre-Antoine, disappeared in Port-au-Prince. While working on a delegation, Lovinsky left his car and never returned to it. There has been virtually no investigation and a campaign on his behalf continues. Lovinsky was a teacher to me over the last ten years, helping me to understand the situation and history of Haiti, and partnering with me on many campaigns for justice and peace in Haiti. I feel his disappearance on a very personal level and wanted to share some of my thoughts about him today, on the anniversary of his disappearance.

Lovinsky is gone, he has disappeared.

Seven years ago, I shared a long and difficult trip to Gonaives with Dr. Lovinsky Pierre-Antoine. On the Cote des Acardins, we witnessed a bus swerve in an attempt to save a little girl’s life. As we arrived on the scene there was madness and chaos, a crowd of screaming witnesses, an overturned bus with people pouring out the back, and a lifeless child in the road. Lovinsky stepped out of our van quickly and confidently, with no doubt of his purpose at that moment. He called out to the people around him on the road and immediately took control of the situation.

This is one of Lovinsky’s many gifts. He can flash his intense eyes over a scene and assess the entire situation without a pause. He will spring into action but always in his own way – with quiet, compelling determination.

When I first met Lovinsky it was during one of his regular Wednesday vigils outside the National Palace. His organization, the Fondasyon Trant Septamn, held their weekly vigil throughout some of the most dangerous years in Haiti. Lovinsky is a psychologist who specializes in working with victims of torture, and this in itself makes him a very special person. His compassion is tangible, and he seems to have a limitless capacity for empathy.

He would frequently set up meetings for members of his organization and groups I had brought to Haiti. During these meetings, self-identified victims of abuse would tell their stories. Many participants in my delegations have excused themselves from these meetings over the years because they are overwhelmed with emotion. Knowing how difficult it can be to hear even one of these stories deepened my admiration for Lovinsky’s ability to hear them day in and day out.

During the years of relative peace and calm between 1996 and 2004, Lovinsky organized the most dangerous educational caravan ever attempted in Haiti. He took a series of photographs and blew them up to 81/2 x 11 and then slipped them into plastic sleeves, creating a graphic and disturbing photo exhibit. The subjects of the photographs were victims and murderers from the coup period of 1991-1994. The goal of his campaign was to educate Haitians around the country about the Haitian Army and its role in oppressing and murdering the Haitian people, so that they would vote to permanently outlaw the army. In 1995, President Aristide disbanded the army, but provisions for an armed force still remain in the Constitution.

I visited the exhibit in Carrefour, at the Sports Center there. Along the front gate, Lovinsky and members of Fondasyon Trant Septamn had taped up the photo exhibit. The sidewalk was filled with people of all kinds, students, market women, businessmen. Lovinsky spoke into a megaphone, inviting everyone to view the exhibit. When we met that week for lunch, Lovinsky chose a restaurant where we could sit away from other customers, so no one would overhear our conversation, and he was accompanied by two bodyguards. He was aware that this particular project was raising his profile to a new and more dangerous level. He was naming names, even worse, he was providing the entire country with images of the greatest human rights offenders and murderers in recent history.

Lovinsky is brave and willing to risk his life for what is right. But he is also a warm and kind person, and humble, too. We traveled together in Haiti and in the United States. Several years ago we visited the San Francisco Bay Area together, spending time with mutual friends while Lovinsky shared presentations for Let Haiti Live. I took him to the Haight to see one of San Francisco’s landmarks, and to walk down to the Golden Gate Park and I will never forget his reactions to some of the more interesting aspects of San Francisco culture!

Lovinsky is a rare person. His charisma gives him the power to influence people and I have witnessed him use his talents to help and support victims, to seek justice, to speak out against violence, and to fight for right. He is missed in professional circles – from torture survivors, to psychologists, to human rights advocates – and as a dear friend to so many of us who have been touched by this amazing man. My heart is with his wife, Michele, and their children, as well as all of my friends who share the grief of his disappearance on this one-year anniversary. May he be protected wherever he is, for all the good that he has done and all the kindness he has shown others.