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Bonjour! / Bonjou! / ¡Hola!  

Who is Clif St. Laurent?

Hello! While some of you may know me and some of you may not, I feel compelled, obliged even, to formally introduce myself to the masses. It’s only appropriate. Therefore, without further ado, 

Greetings! My name is Cliford St Laurent but friends and family call me Clif and I am very excited to be on board as a blogger for the LHCV. When I received the invitation, I experienced a myriad of emotions.  I was elated, honored, and even slightly intimidated. 

To be frank, as modest as my bio is, (snickers slightly) the truth is that I had wondered whether or not anything I had to say would be valued so while I immediately accepted I was, admittedly, a bit conflicted. So much to the point that I’ve been an author on this blog now since the very first post and I am only just now posting my very first article two years later! Ikr?!

You see,  a great majority of the bloggers here are esteemed academics and experts in a vast array of fields from history and linguistics to sociology and more. I’ve studied Louisiana linguistics, history, & anthropology independently as a passion and hobby for quite some time.  As I do the math in my head now, I realize it’s been more than half of my life at this point! Alas, my primary profession and expertise is in art through in the form of music, drama, film, and dance. “What would I write about that would be of equal value as the others?” and “Would I truly be taken seriously put against these scholars?” These are the types of questions that plagued my mind. “I’m only an entertainer”

That’s when it hit me!  I’m an entertainer… It’s what I was put on earth to do and it’s what I do best! If I could entertain just one body, teach them just one thing,  and encourage them on their journey in discovering a different,  deeper meaning of créolité then as the old song says,  “my living would not be in vain”

I said to myself, “Clif! ” to which my self responded, “hmm?”,  “You are certainly the most qualified and capable person to contribute to this blog that you know!  No one is better for the job.  You’ve got a story to tell,  they need hear it,  and it’s your duty to tell it.” So I’m going to tell it!

I was born and reared in Bâton Rouge, Louisiana.  I’m a simple southern boy with as many complexities as any other human. I was reared in a loving family by a loving woman; Alice, my mother, is folle behind her baby and I carry that same love around with me and share it with everyone encounter.

Reclaiming my roots

As a child,  I knew I was destined for the big screen, a wide stage,  and a solo microphone.  The first time I stepped behind one it was like the thrill you get from a roller-coaster ride. When I was 17 years old, I had my first role in a musical stage play with “Creative Company”,  later re-branded as “New Venture Theater”, Baton Rouge’s mecca for thespians of color. This production was the Tony award-winning musical, “Jelly’s Last Jam”; the musical that would forever change my life.

“Jelly’s Last Jam” is a fictional story that loosely recounts some actual events in the days of a real life seventh ward New Orleanian Creole man,  Ferdinand Lamothe Morton, who reigned supreme in the music scene during the ragtime era and by his own account, with a few to corroborate, was the inventor of Jazz.

“Jelly Roll”, as he was widely known,  had a best friend, an African American man,  called Jack the Bear. This was my character. I distinctively recall the fraternal love between the two friends, a bond that my co-star and director Gregory Williams Jr. and I genuinely developed and share to this day.

That bond between the characters however eventually reaches a fever pitch when Jelly’s egotism due to his rising celebrity causes him to cross too many lines. Towards the end of the show,  he’s even depicted as prejudiced against African Americans. In fact,  I remember feeling very real emotions when Greg delivered Jelly’s line,  “The only thing a nigger can do for me is shine my shoes”.

Now, I’m not sure how much fact was involved in the script writing but what I do know to be true is that during that time, and even present day, these can be very real feelings amongst some Creole identified people. 

It is, in fact,  precisely why prior to being cast as Jack the Bear and the closing of the show I wished not to be associated with créolité or anything it had to offer.  In my eyes,  because of my dark skin and my not so fine hair I had no place among Creoles nor did I want one…. 

A brief detour…

I can still hear the voice of my grandmother, Big-mama, talking about this mysterious language that she recalled from her childhood but had never learned because they only spoke it when they didn’t want the youngin’s to know what they were saying. Mamí, my grandmothers’ mother, had been raised with her mother and her mother’s husband Belzan Guidry from Gueydan, La. It is unclear to me whether or not he was Mamí’s father or step-father. 

Big-mama also recounted hearing her in-laws, my grandfather’s family from Lafourche and Rapides Parishes speaking the same language she heard spoken as a child. I distinctively recall her saying “They was speaking English, but just to where ya couldn’t understand it, ya see”.  It only makes sense that the language she was referring to was French and very likely Kouri-Vini.  After having made contact with several distant relatives, it became very clear to me just how disconnected we were as a family from our own languages that others in our family were so fortunate to inherit.

As a child I was curious to know why we didn’t speak these languages and the thought that I was different from others around me intrigued me and made me feel special! While immature yet thirsty for knowledge, as I grew older, became more knowledgeable about the ways of the world and saw how people of darker hue were treated by lighter skinned people – who more often than not boasted a Creole identity – my interest waned more and more until it had reach complete apathy.

Back on Track…

It wasn’t until I joined the cast of “Jelly’s Last Jam” that my interest was once again peaked,  although not in a good way.  Upon hearing the word Creole and reading the lines of some of the characters like “Gran Mimí” and “The Shadow Man”, the negative experiences and attitudes that I had experienced as a dark complected man living in a world were “white was alright” were once again reinforced. Alas, I did my job as an actor and I kept quiet about the rest.

At some point, I began to see the lesson the script was attempting to teach Jelly. I can’t be certain whether he learned it first or if I did but what I know for certain is that I had a revelation. Jelly’s challenge was that the Creole world of which he was a product was one that placed an emphasis on ancestry as a means to determine identity which, in turn, determined one’s predisposition to character and status. Thus, I came to the conclusion that Jelly felt as though he had to reconcile his being a man of color by being a “different”, or more plainly put “better than”, type of man of color and he rejected one ancestral parentage for favor over the other believing that it made him more important.

What I believe the writer wanted to convey was that the influence of the  Black/African-American Anglo culture, was the reason he was who he was. and that he was equally a living, breathing part of this culture that he internally resented and externally rejected. I don’t believe that the playwright was saying that Jelly was a part of that culture solely because they shared African ancestry – if this was his angle then it is flawed because people all over the world can and do share a common ancestry while enjoying a different and distinct way of being…that which we call culture – but if this was the author’s intention, he unintentionally made it about so much more than that.

He was a part of it because he broke bread with them,  he lived with them, he lay with them, he loved them.  He fought with them, he danced,  and sang, and played with them. He BELONGED to them and they belonged to him. They colored each others’ songs. They are an equal product of one another and that type of bond is forged by more than ancestry and thus transcends it. This is what the writer’s version of Ferdinand did not understand. Whether the actual Jelly did will remain a mystery.

The “Pernt” of it All

I learned from that process that I was like Jelly but with the opposite experience. Because of negative experiences I had been disowning a birth right that I simply could not escape:

I eat my red beans and rice on Mondays, 
I like my étouffé creamy, 
My gumbo all mixed up 
My fais do-do’s late at night 
And if my nose ain’t running 
my crawfish ain’t right!

I was living a creole life already whether I liked it or not. The piece that I was missing was the languages; arguably the most important.  While I wasn’t reared speaking Kouri-Vini nor French the connection I felt to them was undeniable. Even during my days of resentment for créolité, I was drawn to the languages like a newborn to his mother or the mother to her newborn since the day I’d seen it written or heard it spoken. Its rhythm beats in my bone marrow and it adds a deeper more profound definition to my meaning.

Once I saw the value in it,  I was no longer content with the painfully common phrases I would hear others express like, “I’m Creole on grandmother’s side, but she didn’t teach me.” to which I always respond, “Well neither did mine but I did her a favor and learned it on my own”.

There’s a line from the closing number of the show I’d like to share to sum up the lesson I learned, “We are the rhythm that color your song; the pain that makes the melody strong.  We are the feeling in your song!”

In Conclusion 

I was only 17 years old when I began reclaiming my family’s heritage languages. I was working day and night to obtain a certain level of fluency in our languages. I had never put this much energy into my school work and damn-near didn’t make it out of McKinley haha. My step-dad who had just married my mother that year or the year before told me that I was wasting my time; that I needed to focus more on a career plan and options that would be lucrative because this “creole stuff” sure wasn’t going  to get it. 

Well, I couldn’t be prouder to say I attained my goals and proved him wrong. Since I set out to rékamé mô lèritaj, I have been a paid guest speaker and panelist for several French and Creole conferences, seminars, workshops, etc. Most notably, the Nachitoches Creole Heritage Center and CODOFIL’s New French Teacher orientation 3-5 years consecutively. I’ve served as the official translator for the latter’s publication of their e-newsletter “Les Patates Nouvelles” into Kouri-Vini.

Other clients who’ve procured my services for Kouri-Vini are Express Scripts Holding Co., the nation’s largest pharmacy benefit management company, Ibero-American on behalf of a governmental organization needing telephone script prompts, and several others.

This victory has not been solely for my own benefit. I have dedicated the last 15 years of my life to ensuring that others who found themselves in my predicament would have access to the same opportunity that I had only with better resources than I did so I created them. I’ve taught KV classes online via video chat, live conference calls, offered private tutoring, and even  went on to teach it as a leisure course at Louisiana State University.

These ventures were not only very gratifying but they also turned out to be an extremely lucrative business for me and have made for quite an impressive résumé might I add. After seeing all of this success I’m happy to say that my very direct, business & entrepreneurial-minded step father offered me a sincere apology, admission of wrong, and congratulations for all that I’d achieved and told me he’d never doubt me again.

Whoever you are and the capacity to become whoever you want to be is because of your song.  It’s because of what the ones who came before you passed down to you and because of the circumstances and environment around you.  I learned so much about myself and what I’m capable of in embracing my créolité. Through learning our language, I’ve knocked down barriers, overcome obstacles, challenged myself and my perceived limitations. They said Kouri-Vini was a dying language. Well I performed CPR on it and gave it another chance at life in my family. I encourage you to do the same.