A History of Diversity: Creoles

 

Embracing my Creole Heritage

(a lengthy read that I hope you enjoy) 

For someone who has many friends from various ethnic backgrounds, I’m surprised at how hard it was to write this post. It was terrifying for many reasons; most I will not go into here. Some will think, ‘What difference does it make?’, which might be true. ‘Who cares?’ is another sentiment that might be echoed. In some respects, they would be right as well. At this stage of my life, I wonder if it’s really worth mentioning. Is it essential to have others understand my heritage among so many others? Not really, but does it matter?

Humm, I think so. Let me explain:

When considering acceptance, tolerance, and racial divides in today’s multicultural world, I sense that a coming together is emerging, despite some ongoing challenges. An acceptance of the biracial, mixed-race, or multi-generational mix (MGM) and their ethnicities, along with a reawakening of what it all means, especially Creoleness, is finding a solid footing in today’s America. 

And I’m here for it! 

I say it matters, but how...why? It isn’t something most of us talk about because it just "is." I’ve seen it for years as something to hide away from and be ashamed of (spoken in soft tones and whispered in the corner of a room). However, America is so diverse, and that diversity should be celebrated. That’s why it matters. We live in a dangerous time were speaking the truth about something that was heretofore taboo, takes courage. But, suppose a history lesson is in order to help others understand the meaning of that diversity so that we love ourselves and others despite our differences. In that case, that’s how it matters.  

As Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu says, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” As I’ve heard of late, being ready is not a feeling—it’s a decision. I suppose the baby steps I’ve taken since starting this blog in 2020 and my first published book in 2023 seem to have culminated in bringing me to this moment. My books have reflected an embrace of my cultural heritage, of which I will continue to explore further in future books. 

Well…enough about that! So here goes.  

Lately, I’ve seen an increase in the curiosity surrounding Creoles and their culture, particularly regarding Louisiana Creoles, and how it differs from Cajun and so on. If reports are correct, even our current Pope Leo XIV (Robert Francis Prevost) is of Louisiana Creole heritage. This is thrilling for me because it is also my family’s ethnic lineage, heritage, culture—and who I am (mo, sé Kréyol).

So, who and what are Creoles?

Louisiana Creole history runs deep. Without delving into the extensive history (there is so much to know and read about), I will include hyperlinks were applicable, for further study and information.*

Based on research, the word ‘creole’ has been used since 1748. It is derived from the French créole, which in turn is derived from the Latin word creare, meaning “to make/create, to bring forth, produce, beget.” This is not to be confused with the Spanish/Portuguese word criollo, used in the western Spanish territory of America prior to the founding of the French territory of Louisiana.

Creoles, in the broad sense of the term, refers to individuals born of mixed European descent, primarily from French, Spanish, or African origins, who are naturalized in the regions where they were born rather than in their parents’ country of origin. If you want to talk about many nations of people represented in one ethnic culture, the Creoles have it in ‘spades,’ as they say! Particularly if you also include German, Italian and Portuguese influences. It is also amazing how many Creoles can be found all over the world. The Creole language is a mixture of different languages. It is varied and indigenous (native) to the country in which it is spoken. A kind of pidgin or, in Louisiana, a French patois that is unique to the group of people who use it to communicate. To read more about this, please click here. To read more about the Louisiana French Creole language, which is a bit different, please click here.

A ‘quick n dirty’ history lesson:

Although much of the Louisiana Creole and Cajun cultures have blended today, they remain distinct and unique, especially the Creoles. Some would say that the Francophile language and generational DNA mixtures of French, Spanish, African, and Native American are more closely aligned with the Latin culture than with any other.

Creoles have been in colonial Louisiana as early as 1682, long before the revolt in Saint-Domingue (now Haiti), which ended in 1803. After all, Louisiana had been a colony of France and then Spain for many years. As stated earlier, their French customs leaned towards a more Latin way of life (Francophile to be exact), especially the system of plaçage that helped create, more or less, the Louisiana Creoles of color. At that time, Creoles (Gens de Couleur = people of color, and later in 1810, Gens de Couleur Libres = free people of color) were also educated (mainly in France), owned land, and operated businesses and trades. They held various professions, including those of doctors, lawyers, educators, and government officials, among others. 

Most Louisiana Creoles where either given or owned slaves decades before the Civil War. This is, lastly, a sad commentary of unfortunate facts and not something to be proud of. It serves as a contentious issue even today. Considering the era, it had a time and place in history, which further illustrates the position most Louisiana Creoles held during the colonial period.

During the era of Reconstruction (after the Civil War of 1863), it was difficult for the “Americans” to understand the French cultural morés of Louisianans regarding race mixing, ergo its Creole culture. This was especially difficult for southern Whites. And they certainly did not understand Louisiana’s hierarchical tri-racial categories of (Top) White, (Middle) Creole, and (Bottom) Enslaved African/Native American. For them, this was foreign and not in keeping with their categorical “standards” of two races, White or Black. I can only imagine the thoughts of some racist segregationist during that time:

“Why the Colored walk around with airs, high and mighty, as if they owned the place! So much miscegenation (race mixing), you can’t tell Black from White! Who are these people that speak so strangely, own so much, and act like our betters?” *

(sigh!) So, how did they unravel it?

A few years after the Civil War, Americans forced the Louisiana Creoles to choose a race of either Black (i.e., Colored/Negro) or White. There was no racial designation for Creoles to choose from. For the most part, the concept of “two races” was foreign to those who simply considered themselves a third race of people or Creole (French people of color). Because no other category existed, especially for government Census Records, many Creoles were happy to claim Black as their race; however, and unfortunately, others not so much. On the other hand, many Blacks were hesitant to accept them as anything other than Black. In fact, to say you were Creole was to say that you considered yourself better than other Blacks, which was met with hated derision. 

The Civil War did a great thing by setting enslaved people free from bondage, but it also destroyed so much more.  

After 1865, the American legal principle of the ‘one drop rule’ further segregated the races. This “rule” took a strong foothold in Louisiana. Jim Crow laws further exacerbated the issue, which further decimated the Creole culture (see Plessy v. Ferguson). Language was nearly lost, culture was scattered to the winds, as were the Creoles. Many migrated to northern states and out west or ‘passed’ for White, a la Dona Drake. However, various entertainers, past and present, tout their Creole heritage. A few names come to mind, such as Beyoncé, Prince (Prince Rogers Nelson), Hilda Simms, Leyah Chase (nee: Lange) of Dooky Chase’s Restaurant, Bryant Gumbel, Aaron Neville, Sabrina Le Beauf, Wynton and Brandon Marsalis, Shelia E., and others like Alexandre Dumas. To learn more about Dumas Haitian/Creole heritage through his parentage, please click here. To learn more about Creole history and its complications on racial identity, please click here.

A little about me:

When I wrote Miss Virginia and the Sweet Sisters: A Novel, I was inspired by many things and experiences. Aside from colorism, which the book addresses, another issue was the customs, folklore, language, morés, music, religion, and pride of the native Louisiana Creoles of this nation. Yes, we have our own language (Kouri-Vini), distinct religion (Catholicism), food (Shrimp and Chicken Creole, Creole Étouffée not to be confused with Crawfish Étouffée which is Cajun, Gumbo—a chicken or seafood soup made with or without okra and andouille sausage, Jambalaya, the ‘holy trinity’ of spices ((green onions, celery and bell peppers)), sassafras, filé powder—oh and Beignets, and other sauces and soups), cultural morés (with its blended European and African traditions, family comes first and foremost, outsiders are viewed cautiously but accepted fully as one of us once the barrier is broken), music (Zydeco) and so much more. To read more about Creole cuisine, please click here. 

While it is true that my father’s ancestry dates back to the original Creoles of Louisiana, and although my mother’s family shares many of the same bloodlines, she never fully embraced the Creole culture.

Being called ‘Creole’ was a term I often heard. I also remember my father trying to immerse us in the customs of what it meant to be Creole, for instance, insisting I eat boiled okra before leaving the table after everyone else had finished. Each time was a fight-royale trying to get that slimy vegetable down. However, I didn’t mind having the creamy and savory dishes, soups, or rice with every meal, even breakfast. As my Creole grandmother would say, “Diri e lèt. Rice with milk and sugar is better than oatmeal, don’t yo know, shè?” 

Learning how to prepare Gumbo without using okra became a necessity for me. I can still hear my grandmother’s admonishment in my ear with her thick Louisiana dialect, “Don’t yo know a Creole girlie has to know how to do dat, shè?” She also never allowed us to eat crawdads/crayfish (crawdaddy’s) because they were what she called mudbugs, or bait for fish. “You claw dem out o the creek banks for catching catfish, mô shè. No good for eating, no!” She’d have a fit knowing the amount we eat today, so delicious! I thought she was strange and stayed away from her whenever I could, thinking some obscure voodoo magic might touch me if I got too close. That would be bad juju, yes? Freshwater fish (usually bass, catfish, or trout) were always gutted, cooked whole, and served upright on a platter as if the fish would swim right off the plate if it could; any other way of serving was considered sacrilegious!

Trying to understand the Kouri-Vini (Louisiana French Creole) patois and fingering my grandmother’s rosary beads, along with the mystery of Catholicism, is a constant memory of my childhood. Family ties were close. No gossip was allowed about what went on behind our closed doors. Yes, as challenging as all of this might have been, it was necessary to embrace these cultural norms. For them, we children needed to understand who we were and where we came from. This was a constant refrain from my father. We were different. Just how different escaped me at the time. Yet, despite my attempts to dismiss these cultural Creole norms, I find myself being drawn back to them in some small way. 

Yes. For my Creole grandmother and father, we were Creole, not Black. For my mother, however, we were Black, not Creole. Nothing else would do.

As mentioned earlier, my mother never fully embraced Creole culture or customs. Even though, without the French influence, the bloodlines are very similar. Her focus was on the Native American side of our DNA, not the whole of the Creole. I don’t understood the why of this, but “Cést la vie!” Imagine growing up knowing you’re designated Black by race but not understanding the significance of being ethnically Creole?

What did it all mean? Race versus Ethnicity?

Undoubtedly, this only added to the confusion about my identity. Who I was, or how I fit into this world, remained a mystery. I felt ashamed of admitting I was Creole because of the backlash/blowback I would get for having said so. I grew up surrounded by many beautiful, brown, and light-skinned girls. Gorgeous in fact! I sometimes wondered if they were like me—but no. To my Black friends, I was just like them, only lighter-skinned. However, I hid behind the truth of creoleness because of the obvious—that of not wanting to be treated as if I thought I was better.

On the contrary, I always thought I was less than.

I desperately wanted and needed to fit in. To belong—somewhere. The question of “What are you? Which one of your parents is White? What country/island are you from? Are you from Ethiopia, Spain, Sri Lanka, or the Mediterranean (yes, there is a strong Italian influence in Louisiana)? You don’t sound Black (whatever that means). Why don’t you act like us? You ain’t better!” Yes, and worse. You name it—I went through it.

I know I’m not alone.

After all these years, the older version of me has matured, and I hope wiser. I’ve often said that when I walk into a room, all of me walks in. Not half or a quarter, but ALL of me. It’s unfair to only recognize one side; I embrace every bit. Today, I am proud of my heritage, and even though I endured attempts to have Creole ‘beat’ out of me, I survived. 

I suppose some will read this and think that I’m a ‘sell-out’ or worse. But that’s a problem or perception I can’t help with. I will not apologize. I was born, blame God. Thanks to the resurgence and dismissal of the stigma surrounding mixed race and Louisiana Creole identity, I am proud to stand up and claim what is mine. Yes, I am 100% Black, but also 100% Creole, if that makes sense. Through birth, genealogy, and regardless of DNA percentages, I now know where I come from and who I am. A proud person of color. A woman who has persevered to embrace her heritage, culture, customs, and all they bring. My language, race, and ethnic background shape who I am today.

And I love it!

We are a nation of settlers, immigrants, and believers in freedom in a land where we can be who we are and thrive. Together. Acceptance in a land formed by a beautiful mosaic of peoples, of which I am a part. The pieces don’t always fit together perfectly like a puzzle, but they belong together just the same. If you choose to explore who you are, do so, and proudly embrace what is uniquely you. From family origins in Louisiana to a small town in Kentucky and now the open plains of Colorado—I am here.

And so are you. 

~DaMarie

 

Photos: AI rendering of me (from a photo taken about three years ago for my first novel) in a traditional Louisiana Creole headdress (a Tignon). To read more about the origin and significance of wearing the Tignon head dress in Louisiana, click here.

*The information provided in this post is based on my own research. It should not be considered definitive. Although accounts may differ, the resulting information from extensive research was done in good faith and nothing more. This post refers to Creoles of Louisiana (Gens de Couleur Libre) only. It does not refer to the White European French Creoles of Louisiana. For the purpose of this post, Black and White are capitalized to delineate race from the color of an object. The fictitious sentiments expressed are those of the zeitgeist (the spirit of the time in history) in which some people thought and believed. That mindset is very different and, for the most part, no longer exists today. Also, this is not an endorsement for DNA testing through various genealogy sites (i.e., Ancestry, 23andMe, etc.).  

For further reading:

Difference between Cane River and Louisiana Creoles: click here and here

List of Creole languages throughout the world: click here

List of notable Louisiana Creoles: click here

States that did not permit the Creole language to be spoken in schools, click here and to watch a video click here

To read more about the history of the Code Noir:  click here 

To learn more about the system of Plaçage in Louisiana: click here 

To learn more about “Hilda Simms,” click here and to watch a video of her life click here 

To learn more about Pope Leo XIV and his Creole background video: click here and here

Books to read:

Creole: The History and Legacy of Louisiana's Free People of Color, by Sybil Kein (often recommended to those wanting to understand the full history of Louisiana Creoles. Used by historians and intellectuals alike. Great library collection).

The Grandissimes: A Story of Creole Life, a novel by George Washington Cable. It was written in 1880 and is considered a classic among intellectuals.

The Feast of All Saints a novel by Anne Rice (one of my favorites), was adapted into a television mini-series in 2001. I suggest reading the book. Well worth it.

Miss Virginia and the Sweet Sisters: A Novel by Donna Lawrence (my 1^st novel. A coming-of-age suspenseful murder mystery set in small-town America. The story is influence by historical events of the late 1960s, colorism and Creole folklore)

Once Upon A Time in Creole America by Joe Wood (an essay written for the Village Voice in 1994)

La Bouche Creole by Leon E. Soniat, Jr., (my favorite cookbook about Creole cuisine)

Creole Feast: Fifteen Master Chefs of New Orleans Reveal Their Secrets, by Ruby Lombard & Nathaniel Burton

A List of Videos work watching:

Too White to be Black, Too Black to be White

Louisiana Creoles Part 2

Louisiana Creoles Part 3

Louisiana Creoles Part 4

Louisiana Creoles Before the Civil War

Creole Cuisine: Becoming Creole

Escape from Blackness: Quadroons, Creoles and Black (I list this in case the essay by Joe Wood is not accessible)

Tignon Laws

History of the Tignon

Get Over It: Creoles are Not Going Away

Cane River Creoles of Louisiana

Available for purchase on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other local bookstores. 

Also available to read on Goodreads

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