My wife visited Haiti a couple of years ago to do some work at a rural hospital. When we finally got back to Brooklyn (I'd met her at the airport), and got out of the car, she just started crying right there on our stoop, much to the concern of the neighbor's cat. Now, the tears of a white liberal New Yorker are what every TV/radio pundit lives to ridicule, but these particular tears weren't for guilt or shame, but were mere gratitude for the kind of opulent lives we're able to live here in New York, a reality too infrequently contextualized by the way the other two thirds of the planet lives each day.
I could get into details about how difficult life is in Haiti, especially for children, but that would defeat the purpose of the party I'm trying to get you to go to tonight: Haiti Optimiste II, a shindig at the Bubble Lounge which aims to celebrate the great things about Haiti through photography and music (by Michou and Emily King). Your $10 donation will get you a rum drink and go towards fixing some of those bad things I didn't mention. IF YOU DON'T GO TO THIS YOU ARE A BAD PERSON.
Tonight, 8pm, 228 W. Broadway.