In Miami’s Little Haiti, ‘Blood’ looks past Trump’s rhetoric as US midterms loom

Blood says he is sad. His mother died in his arms last year, aged 68. "She was not old, but not young either," he says.

She had been worrying about money and suffered from high blood pressure.

Her death left him so shaken that he has yet to find steady work.

"I'm always here, on the streets," he adds.
It is the afternoon on the eve of the mid term elections in Little Haiti, a neighbourhood north of central Miami and a cultural heartland of the Haitian diaspora. The streets are still quiet. Devante AKA “Blood,” who lives in Little Haiti, Miami, Florida, says he may vote for Trump.

The cultural centre and the Libreri Mapou Creole & French Bookstore are closed. The neighbourhood will come to life much later in the day.

For now, only a handful of small shops selling spare parts for drills and other tools are open.

Blood, who gives his real name as Devante, says his nickname comes from a Los Angeles street gang known as the Rollin' Twenties Bloods.

Almost two metres tall, he cuts an imposing figure. As he talks, passers-by greet him respectfully.

Economic hardship

The neighbourhood where Blood grew up took shape as Haitian migrants settled around Miami's Lemon City area during the 1970s. First Interdenominational Haitian Church, Little Haiti, Miami, 2 November 2024.

Many were fleeing political repression and economic hardship under the ruthless dictatorships of François 'Papa Doc' Duvalier and his son, Jean-Claude 'Baby Doc' Duvalier.

Their migration followed a long history of exploitation and political upheaval.

Haiti won independence from France in 1804 after a successful uprising against slavery.

In 1825, under threat from French warships, it agreed to pay France 150 million francs to compensate former colonists for the property they said they had lost — including enslaved people. 

The payments and associated borrowing drained resources from the new republic.

More than a century later, the Duvalier regimes helped drive successive waves of Haitians abroad, including to South Florida.  Haitian president François Duvalier (a.k.a. Papa Doc) at his coronation as president for life, Port-au-Prince, Haiti 1963.

In 2003, Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide demanded $21 billion as compensation from France, but he was deposed in a coup one year later, which he claimed was orchestrated by France and the US. 

Cats and Dogs

To add insult to injury, Trump, during his televised presidential debate with Kamala Harris in September 2024, targeted Haitians, repeating a false claim about immigrants in Springfield, Ohio.

"In Springfield, they're eating the dogs. The people that came in, they're eating the cats. They're eating — they're eating the pets of the people that live there."

Haitians at home and abroad fear fallout from end of US protection

The remarks prompted anger and efforts to mobilise Haitian-American voters against Trump.

According to Daniel Smith, chairman of the University of Florida's political science department, 73 percent of the about 70,000 Haitian voters in South Florida registered as Democrats in 2024, against only 4 percent as Republicans.

But Blood is unmoved.
"To me, Trump is like an actor," he says. "So, sometimes, he just saying things just to flood the headlines. I've seen Trump with Haitians. I feel like that's just fake news and propaganda."

Asked about elections, Blood says he would vote for Trump, or for candidates who support him.

"Why? A lot of people think he a racist, but the dude isn't really a racist," he says. Election posters for the US Midterms on a street in Little Haiti in Miami.

In Blood's view, Trump respects people who have money — or are trying to make it. As long as someone is prepared to hustle, he believes, Trump is on their side.

"You just got to take advantage of the opportunities you're given."