No Bias, No Bull: Why the Haitian Music Industry Keeps Dodging the Real Talk on Colorism

By Moses St Louis

When Richie from Klass raised the issue of colorism in Haitian society, the shock in the HMI was almost loud enough to drown out his message. It’s clear this isn’t a new problem, but few want to talk about it openly, especially within the music industry. Instead of tackling Richie’s real question about who feels safe making certain comments and why, most people in the media shifted the conversation—even twisting it into a debate Richie never started.

Colorism exists in Haiti, and everyone knows it. Ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. When those with a platform sidestep this truth, it keeps the doors closed for honest progress in music and beyond. If the industry wants to move forward, these tough conversations can’t be brushed under the rug any longer.

Instead of tackling Richie's main question head-on, most in the HMI focused on unrelated drama, missing the real issue. Colorism is not new to Haiti or its music scene. People know it's there, yet it's treated like an untouchable topic.

Understanding Colorism: Roots and Realities in Haitian Society

Colorism doesn’t just show up out of nowhere. It’s part of everyday life in Haiti, shaping how people see each other and themselves. For some, it’s a quiet weight in a room, for others, it feels like the rules of the game keep changing in someone else’s favor. Let’s break down how colorism grew, why it still matters, and how it continues to set the tone for social status and opportunity.

Colorism in Haiti is not new, but it's rarely addressed openly. Many avoid talking about it because it's sensitive and, frankly, uncomfortable. Still, it’s a daily reality. To get why this topic stirs up strong reactions, you must know where colorism comes from, how it shapes social life, and why it’s still around today.

The Legacy of Colonialism and Color Hierarchies

Colorism in Haiti has roots that run deep. When the French held power in colonial Haiti, they divided society by skin color. People with lighter skin usually had more rights, better jobs, and lived closer to power, while those with darker skin were pushed aside and forced into harsh conditions.

After slavery ended, these color lines didn’t just fade away. Instead, they shaped new rules about who deserved what, who belonged, and who had to fight twice as hard just to be heard. Today, you can still see how these old beliefs stick around:

• Lighter skin is often linked to beauty, higher status, and intelligence.

• Families with mixed or lighter ancestry sometimes pass down wealth and connections, while others get left out.

• The “elite” in Haiti is still widely seen as lighter-skinned, fueling the idea that privilege is tied to complexion.

The truth is, this color-based system was built on purpose and stuck around by habit. Even now, these ideas secretly (and sometimes openly) set the tone for everyday choices and big decisions.

Modern Manifestations of Colorism

So what does colorism look like in everyday Haiti? It pops up in countless ways, both subtle and direct. Sometimes it means missing out on a job, feeling overlooked in school, or noticing how the media puts the spotlight on certain faces while ignoring others.

Here’s how colorism plays out today:

• Personal Relationships: Some families still warn their kids about marrying darker-skinned partners or praise children for lighter features.

• School and Work: Teachers may treat lighter-skinned students better, and hiring managers might unconsciously favor certain appearances over others.

• Media and Entertainment: Light-skinned artists and public figures often land bigger opportunities, better endorsements. Darker-skinned talent can be moved to the background or stereotyped.

In music, as Richie pointed out, this isn’t just about image—it’s about who gets to speak openly, who feels safe voicing opinions, and who gets challenged or mocked. These patterns help keep old structures alive, even when society claims to be moving forward.

Colorism doesn’t live in the past. It thrives when people pretend it’s not there or when they change the subject, no matter how loud the conversation starts. In every corner of Haitian life, from family rooms to the music scene, the shadow of colorism quietly shapes what’s possible and for whom.

Colorism in the Haitian Music Industry: Does It Exist?

The topic of colorism in the Haitian Music Industry (HMI) has been hiding in plain sight. When Richie  raised the issue, the shock and silence that followed in the HMI exposed just how sensitive and avoided this conversation is. Instead of digging in, much of the industry chose to look away, almost pretending no problem existed at all. Whether it’s backstage deals or front-page promotions, skin tone does seem to play a role. Here’s how colorism shapes the music industry you see and hear every day.

The Representation of Artists: Lighter Skin vs. Darker Skin

Look at album covers, music videos, or event flyers in the HMI. Patterns start to appear. Artists with lighter skin often take center stage, while many darker-skinned performers remain in the background or squeezed out of prime opportunities. It’s not just about who is the most talented or hardworking.

Here’s what you’ll notice if you pay close attention:

• Promotion: Lighter-skinned models, especially women, are chosen more often for lead roles in videos, cover photos.

• Imagery: When bands and record labels invest in visuals, those with lighter complexions often get the spotlight. Darker artists may get less camera time or be pushed into supporting roles.

• Sponsorships and Endorsements: Brands want faces that “sell”. Often, they pick artists whose looks fit a lighter, “more marketable” standard. This bias can mean more deals and partnerships go to the same group, year after year.

  
  

Some artists speak about how gatekeepers in radio, TV, and marketing expect a certain “look” to fit the image of HMI success. Behind closed doors, darker-skinned artists sometimes hear they need to soften their image, or even lighten their complexion, to “make it”.

Audience Reactions and Social Media Discourse

Whenever the topic of colorism comes up, reactions online are heated and fast. When Richie posted his video, the backlash wasn’t subtle. Much of the HMI fanbase, as well as media pages, either pushed the focus to unrelated topics or claimed Richie was making things up. Some fans took to comments, calling it “old news” or simply denying any bias. Others accused him of stirring trouble or being divisive.

Typical patterns you’ll spot when the issue is raised include:

• Changing the Subject: The conversation quickly shifts. Richie’s points about who gets freedom to speak are ignored. Instead, the debate suddenly turns to things like band order at bals, which is completely unrelated.

• Denial: Many posts claim colorism doesn’t play a role in the HMI, using phrases like, “Talent matters, not skin color,” or “Everyone gets a chance if they work hard enough.”

• Silencing: Those who try to continue the conversation are shut down, called “troublemakers,” or even mocked for bringing up an uncomfortable truth.

• Support and Solidarity: Despite all the noise, some voices agree openly with Richie, sharing their own stories or calling for real talk. They’re usually in the minority, but their comments can push others to speak up.

  
  

This pattern—raise the topic, deny, distract, and silence—is a cycle that holds the whole industry back. If anything, Richie’s video proved that colorism isn’t a “new” problem. It’s just one the HMI is still too afraid to openly address.

The Reaction of the HMI: Silence, Deflection, or Denial?

When Richie put colorism front and center in his video, he didn’t just spark a conversation—he uncovered the quiet tension hanging over the Haitian music industry. The reaction from the HMI wasn’t supportive or curious. Instead, it looked like a mix of silence, deflection, and flat-out denial. Many acted as if Richie invented this entire problem, even though anyone who’s watched the scene closely knows better. Let’s break down why this happens, how the conversation got sidetracked, and what these responses tell us about deeper issues. Richie’s video didn’t just spark a reaction, it exposed a pattern. The Haitian Music Industry (HMI) rarely talks about colorism, but when pressed, its response moves through a tight cycle—quiet, redirect, or just plain denial. Most artists, producers, and media figures either say nothing, dodge the subject, or act as if the problem was just invented. It’s easy to think the issue only matters to Richie, but in reality, it touches everyone in the HMI and far beyond.

Why Is the Topic So Taboo?

Colorism isn’t an easy subject for Haitian society or the HMI. Bringing it up feels risky, almost like poking a bruise everyone pretends isn't there. A few things make the topic especially touchy:

• Fear of Backlash: People worry about being labeled troublemakers or losing their place in the industry. It’s safer to keep quiet than draw fire.

• Cultural Sensitivities: Some still see colorism as private family business or shameful history—not something to air in public, especially on big platforms.

• Power Structures: Those who benefit from old systems rarely want them questioned. Speaking out can threaten careers, relationships, or hard-won opportunities.

  
  

For artists and the media, talking about colorism is like walking on eggshells. You risk burning bridges, alienating fans, or even facing professional consequences. So, the easy option is silence. Statements often sound rehearsed or vague, with safe buzzwords about “unity” tossed around to avoid getting real.

Turning Attention Elsewhere: The ‘Who Plays First?’ Deflection

Instead of meeting Richie’s question head-on, much of the HMI media did a quick sidestep. Suddenly, the hot topic wasn’t colorism or who gets to speak out, but which bands get the top slot at shows. Richie never brought this up, yet everyone ran with it, leaving the real issue untouched.

Here’s what this dodge looks like in action.

Right after Richie’s post, the HMI conversation took a sharp turn. Instead of wrestling with his real question about colorism and privilege, the focus shifted to a classic music industry squabble: which band gets to perform first at shows? Suddenly, headlines, interviews, and social feeds were crowded with debates about show lineups—a far cry from the real issue at hand.

• Change the Subject: Colorism gets buried under debates about concert schedules, set lists, and show order. The media highlights drama that feels safer and less personal.

• Media Drops the Ball: Instead of peeling back the layers on colorism, radio hosts and bloggers pick easier, less risky topics. They might mention that the HMI needs unity, but without naming problems, the call is empty.

• “Unity” as a Catchphrase: Industry voices throw out calls for unity, as if saying we all need to get along is enough. But that word becomes an excuse to ignore what divides us. It’s not unity if it’s built on silence.

• Belonging to All of Us: The real problem isn’t Richie raising the point. It’s that we act like only he should answer for it. The whole community shares this issue, and dodging the topic won’t fix it.

Richie may have been the one to pull the trigger on the conversation but loaded history and invisible rules were already there. Fans and bands talk privately about double standards, but when it’s time to address them publicly, the conversation moves far away from anything uncomfortable.

Often, people accused of colorism don’t even notice how bias sneaks into small choices and comments. Sometimes it’s not even about right or wrong—it’s about facing an uncomfortable truth. Celebrities in the HMI have their words picked apart much more than regular folks. Whether their bias is on purpose or just habit, ignoring it keeps old unfair rules in place.

For real change, the HMI and media have to stop hiding behind side debates. No amount of unity talk or set list controversies will erase the way colorism shapes our community. Only open, honest dialogue will. As long as silence, deflection, or denial stay the norm, Richie’s question will hang in the air unanswered—and colorism will continue shaping who gets seen and heard.

Why Addressing Colorism Matters: Risks and Responsibilities

Talking honestly about colorism in Haitian music and society isn’t about picking sides. It’s about facing a reality that, left unchecked, piles up costs for everyone. Ignoring the problem doesn’t make it go away. In fact, silence lets old wounds fester and keeps talent and trust locked outside the room. When public figures dodge the conversation or when fans and media turn away, everyone pays a price. Let’s dig into what’s really at stake and how the right people can help lead change.

Consequences of Ignoring Colorism: Social, Cultural, and Industry-Specific Costs

Colorism doesn’t just cause hurt feelings. It shapes how identity works, how people dream, and even who gets the chance to shine. Ignoring this issue in the Haitian music industry—and the wider society—has real risks:

• Wasted Talent: Artists, musicians, or creators judged by skin tone can lose fair shot at opportunities. Great voices and fresh ideas get lost before anyone can hear them.

• Broken Trust: When the public sees the same people benefiting from quiet bias, faith in the system tanks. Fans begin to notice patterns, and suspicion sets in.

• Silent Pain: The message is clear: keep quiet or risk backlash. This breeds distrust, divides groups, and isolates people who already feel invisible.

• Culture on Repeat: When old ideas about beauty or worth go unchallenged, the industry keeps recycling stale looks and sound. Music and art miss the chance to reflect real-life stories.

• Slower Growth: When talent is filtered by something as shallow as skin tone, the whole industry grows more slowly. Creative risks drop, innovation stalls, and fan connection weakens.

• Public Dialogue Stalls: Society avoids even starting conversations about healing or justice. This silence only deepens divides over time.

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Shrugging off colorism doesn’t clear the air. It puts the issue on a slow simmer. Younger generations notice. So do outsiders and industry partners. A community that won’t address its own bias sends the message that some people will always have to fight harder to be seen.

How Leadership and Media Can Lead Change

Artists, influencers, and journalists hold the microphone. What they say—and what they dare to ask—can push entire communities forward. Here are some ways those with a platform can help move the conversation about colorism in new directions:

• Start the Conversation Publicly: Leaders can bring up real stories of colorism, not just in interviews but in songs, stage banter, and online posts. Hearing truth spoken out loud breaks the silence.

• Host Honest Forums: Community radio, podcasts, or even live panels can invite fans and artists to share. Don’t just stick to safe topics. Open the floor for all voices.

• Support Artists Who Speak Up: Instead of punishing those who mention colorism, lift them up. Share their music, give them interviews, and show them they’re not alone.

• Use Influence Responsibly: Journalists, bloggers, and DJs can keep the discussion moving in a way that’s fair and real, not just for clicks or shock value.

  
  

Strong leadership doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means refusing to brush aside uncomfortable questions. When artists, media, and fans join forces, colorism loses its power to silence or separate. Every open statement, event, and article moves the needle closer to real change—for music, for media, and for the soul of Haitian society.

Richie’s question shook the silence for a reason. Colorism is real, it shapes who rises and who stays unheard, and dodging it helps no one. The music industry and Haitian media have a choice—either keep sidestepping hard truths or start fixing old habits. Change happens when those with platforms speak out, challenge quiet bias, and open doors for every artist, no matter their skin tone. The next step is simple but bold: keep this conversation going, reward honesty, and show that the HMI can lead, not follow, on real issues. If you care about a fairer industry and a stronger culture, now’s the time to join in, speak up, and support those breaking the silence.

Ignoring colorism has let old wounds fester in the HMI and across Haitian society. Richie’s words shook up the pattern of silence for a reason—it's a problem that touches real people, real careers, and the future of Haitian music. When the issue is ignored or dodged, stories stay hidden, talent gets passed over, and the culture misses its chance to truly shine.

The next step is simple but bold: face colorism out in the open. Let’s name it, talk about it, and invite real stories to the front. Artists, media voices, and fans all have a part to play. By having honest conversations, promoting fair representation, and holding platforms accountable, the HMI can move forward together.

Thanks for reading and being part of this important discussion. Share your own experiences or thoughts—your voice matters. The more we talk about what’s hard, the more possible real change becomes. 

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