Little Haiti runs north from the Design District along NE 2nd Avenue, and it is the largest Haitian community in the United States. It is also a neighbourhood that had to fight the City of Miami for years just to have its name put on a map: the boundaries were only formally designated in 2016, after decades in which the area was referred to by the older name of Lemon City or by nothing in particular.
Haitians began arriving in numbers in the 1970s and 1980s, many by boat, into a period of American immigration policy that treated them very differently from the Cubans arriving at the same time into Little Havana. What they built here is the cultural and commercial centre of Haitian life in the Americas outside Haiti itself: Creole-speaking churches, botanicas, record shops, bakeries, restaurants, a bookshop that has carried Haitian literature for decades, and radio that broadcasts in Creole across the county.
The anchor for a visitor is the Little Haiti Cultural Complex on NE 59th Terrace — a city-run arts centre with galleries, dance studios and a theatre, attached to the Caribbean Marketplace. That building is the thing to see. Architect Charles Pawley designed it as a modern interpretation of the Marché en Fer, the iron market in Port-au-Prince, with gingerbread detailing and colour drawn from Haitian vernacular building. It opened in 1990, won a national architecture award, closed in 1999 when the trading failed, was acquired by the city with demolition in mind, and survives because the neighbourhood refused to let it go.
The pressure now is different and harder. Little Haiti sits on the Miami Rock Ridge — limestone high ground, some of the least flood-prone land in the county — and in a city facing sea-level rise that has made it extremely valuable. Developers have been buying for a decade. "Climate gentrification" is not an abstraction here; it is the argument on the street.
Come on a Big Night in Little Haiti, the free monthly concert at the complex. Eat griot. Buy something.