Martin Luther King, III
Notes from the Road- 5th Stop: United Houma Nation- Terrebonne, Lafourche, Jefferson, St. Mary, St. Bernard, and Plaquemines Parish, LA
Louisiana Sweet Praline Sauce
Salt
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup corn syrup
1/4 cup water
3/4 cup chopped pecans
3 tablespoons butter
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Prepare the sauce by melting the sugar in a heavy saucepan over medium heat. In a short time the sugar will begin to turn to a light golden brown. When light brown syrup is formed, immediately add the corn syrup, followed by the water. Blend thoroughly. Allow to cool for just a moment and then stir in the pecans, butter, salt and vanilla extract.
If this doesn't sound good to you, we may have different tastes. Sitting in Raceland, Louisiana, Chief Brenda Robichaux- along with her family and friends- served me and my team a magnificent French Toast breakfast topped off by this distinctly Louisiana sauce. Chief Robichaux is the leader of the Houma Nation ("La Nation Unie Houma"), a Native American population of around 15,0000 people whose cultural distinction has yet to be recognized by our Federal Government.
The Houma originated further North than the Bayou- around present-day Baton Rouge- but were steadily pushed south and diffused by settlers throughout the 19th century. The encroachment of French settlers was so great, in fact, that modern-day indigenous Houma culture is hybrid by definition- a French-Houma patois is spoken by a few remaining tribal elders, and when you show up at the Chief's house she serves you French Toast with Praline Sauce. Chief Robichaux's grandfather, Ernest Dardar, was a well known traditional healer who made remedies from peppermint, thyme, lemongrass, plaintain, bay leaves, and nightshade. The Houma term for this traditional Native American role? "Traiteur," from the French.
There is something exciting- and iconically American- about this kind of cultural infusion. But in the case of the Houma there is a contradiction thrown into the simmering melting pot. After this initial cultural communion in the 19th century, the Houma grew further and further apart from "mainstream" culture in the region. By the early 20th century, they lived in largely distinct communities; institutional racism brutalized the Houma's property rights and right to an education, and they fell further back behind a curtain of difference until after the Second World War and then the Civil Rights Act.
So why am I, on a casual chatty blog-post, holding forth with a history lesson? Because of the defining effect that it has on the Houma today, and as an illustrative case of how any community's current circumstances can never be disassociated from its history.
When Hurricanes Rita and Katrina struck the Gulf Coast, the Houma banded together with extraordinary unity and efficiency. Chief Robichaux estimates that thousands of volunteers, over a period of several months, stayed in her and her husband’s home. The Houma Relief center was quickly founded- in a general store that Mike Robichaux's father had closed down fifty years ago- and provided assistance to thousands of Houma families (it still assists a few hundred people a week). The Houma, in other words, were quick and determined in taking care of their own. Clearly, the lessons of a tight-knit, secluded community take more than a generationor two to fade away.
But this closeness, this inward perspective, has also held the Houma back in ways of which they're becoming more aware. A generation that was deprived of education grew up, of course, without understanding its worth. So it is only today, in the youngest generation of the Houma, that large numbers are graduating from college and going on to advanced degrees. It has also affected their ability to engage the outside world in their problems. Most Houma who do get educated feel compelled to return- not unwillingly, but because in this community is where they want to live. This means that a national network of educated adults capable of increasing awareness and available resources to their people hasn't sprung up. Likewise, those still living in the six-parish service area have not, perhaps, been as quick to seek public funds for community health and development issues. This insularity has often allowed them to be taken advantage of. In addition to a long history of losing their land to either the state or oil interests, there are recent and specific examples, like the town of Grand Bois. In the 1980's, Grand Bois was abruptly made the site of minimally regulated dumping by the oiling industry and has been fighting to save itself ever since (for more information on this, you can start at http://www.sierraclub.org/sierra/200205/profile.asp, or simply Google them).
The hospitality shown us by the Houma nation- from the wonderful Pecan sauce to a display of Houma dance and song in full regalia- is not something I will soon forget. Nor will the unique spirit of this tightly bound community, or the challenges they face as they look forward, striving to maintain their integrity and unity while freeing themselves to further engage with and hope for more from our society at large.
Martin Luther King, III: Author Bio | Other Posts
Posted at 8:29 AM, Aug 07, 2006 in
Community Development
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