A University of Sussex PhD thesis Available online via Sussex Research Online: http://sro.sussex.ac.uk/ This thesis is protected by copyright which belongs to the author. This thesis cannot be reproduced or quoted extensively from without first obtaining permission in writing from the Author The content must not be changed in any way or sold commercially in any format or medium without the formal permission of the Author When referring to this work, full bibliographic details including the author, title, awarding institution and date of the thesis must be given Please visit Sussex Research Online for more information and further details Becoming American in Creole New Orleans: Family, Community, Labor and Schooling, 1896-1949 Darryl G. Barthé, Jr. Doctorate of Philosophy in History University of Sussex Submitted May 2015 University of Sussex Darryl G. Barthé, Jr. (Doctorate of Philosophy in History) Becoming American in Creole New Orleans: Family, Community, Labor and Schooling, 1896-1949 Summary: The Louisiana Creole community in New Orleans went through profound changes in the first half of the 20th-century. This work examines Creole ethnic identity, focusing particularly on the transition from Creole to American. In "becoming American," Creoles adapted to a binary, racialized caste system prevalent in the Jim Crow American South (and transformed from a primarily Francophone/Creolophone community (where a tripartite although permissive caste system long existed) to a primarily Anglophone community (marked by stricter black-white binaries). These adaptations and transformations were facilitated through Creole participation in fraternal societies, the organized labor movement and public and parochial schools that provided English-only instruction. The "Americanization of Creole New Orleans" has been a common theme in Creole studies since the early 1990's, but no prior study has seriously examined the cultural and social transformation of Creole New Orleans by addressing the place and role of public and private institutions as instruments and facilitators of Americanization. By understanding the transformation of Creole New Orleans, this thesis demonstrates how an historically mixed-race community was ultimately divided by the segregationist culture of the early-twentieth century U.S. South. In addition to an extensive body of secondary research, this work draws upon archival research at the University of New Orleans' Special Collections, Tulane University Special Collections, the Amistad Research Center, The Archdiocese of New Orleans, and Xavier University Special Collections. This thesis makes considerable use of census data, draws upon press reports, and brings to bear a wide assortment of oral histories conducted by the author and others. Most scholars have viewed New Orleans Creoles simply as Francophone African Americans, but this view is limited. This doctoral thesis engages the Creole community in New Orleans on its own terms, and in its own idioms, to understand what "becoming American" meant for New Orleans Creoles between 1896-1949. I hereby declare that this thesis has not been and will not be, submitted in whole or in part to another University for the award of any other degree. Signature:..................................................................................... Acknowledgements: It would be impossible for me to truly thank all the people who contributed to this work in one fashion or another. I must first acknowledge my uncles, Earl A. Barthé, and Clarence William Collins, my cousin Trudy Barthé Charles, Professor Madelon Powers, Dr. Michael Mizell-Nelson from the University of New Orleans, and Herbert "The Wizard" Gettridge. These are my family, mentors, friends and elders who all passed on before I had the chance to properly thank them for their inspiration. During the course of this project I received generous financial support from the European Association for American Studies and from the University of Sussex Alumni Association for travel grants which made my archival work possible. "Helpful" does not begin to describe the archivists at Tulane University Special Collections, and at the main branch of the public library in New Orleans, all of whom contributed to this work through their recommendations and advice. Thanks go to Christopher Harter at the Amistad Research Center and to Dr. Florence Jumonville, head archivist at Earl K. Long Special Collections at the University of New Orleans. I am fortunate to have had the opportunity to interview Henry Oubre and Calvin Moret. For creating those opportunities, I owe special thanks to my papa, Sam, my uncle, Ricky Oubre and also to my friend, Monique Breaud. My ideas were cultivated in dialogue with a number of friends and scholars among those, in no particular order, being Arnold Hirsch, Molly Mitchell, Michael Edwards, Tim Wise, Shiloh Dewease, Andrew Jolivette, Rain Prud'homme-Cranford, Nikki Dugar, Raphael Delgadillo, Alex Whitney, Nick Scramuzza, Reynard Rochon, John LaFleur, II, Stacey Garcia, Jari C. Honora, Ariane Jacques-Côté, Blu Wakpa, Michael Gisclair, Rocky Sexton, Shandria Smith, Jason Williams, Shawanda Williams Lewis, Denise Augustine, William Walker, James LaForest, Margherita Orsot, Yulbritton Shy, Chris Callahan, and Keila Dawson. One scholar, however, stands out from the rest of these as being a singularly important influence on my work and that is Christophe Landry who provided me with a completely new context with which to view Louisiana Creole people when he agreed to teach me Kouri-Vini. Fluent in both English and 'Mericain, fearlessly direct and honest, I could not have asked for a better supervisor than Richard Follett. I am fortunate to have had the opportunity to work with him. Thanks go to my family, especially my mother Carolyn and my father Darryl, my uncle Harold Barthé, my cousins Clifford Barthé, Earl R. Barthé and Terry Barthé. I owe a special thanks to my parents-in-law, Ann McCarty Servais and William "Bill" Servais, whose support during my PhD program, and in the immediate aftermath of it, directly impacted my success. I owe a debt of gratitude to all of my children, but especially to Marie. Finally, my deepest appreciation I reserve for Joelle, my wife, a woman of true grit, indomitable spirit and saintly patience. Table of Contents Introduction p. 1 Chapter 1: Identifying an Historic Louisiana Creole Community p. 7 Chapter 2: Strangers in Their Own Land p. 59 Chapter 3: Cliquish, Clannish, Organization-Minded p. 96 Chapter 4: The American Labor Movement in Creole New Orleans p. 143 Chapter 5: Learning American at School (and Church) p. 195 Conclusions: Creole-Americans p. 234 Bibliography p. 239 !" " Introduction: In November of 2002, the Delgado Memorial Museum of Art in New Orleans hosted an exhibit titled "Raised to the Trade" featuring a number of Creole craftsmen from New Orleans. Among them was my uncle, Earl A. Barthé. I attended the exhibit on the opening day and watched as my uncle Earl, a born "articulator" (his term), spun a tale of his grandfather's brother, Pierre Barthé, founding New Orleans Plasterers' Union Local 93 along with an Irish American named Sam Ball. As Earl told it, it was a stirring, uplifting tale of interracial cooperation just as the curtain of Jim Crow was being drawn on the Crescent City. It sounded too good to be a true story, but it was certainly the sort of story that drew people in and made them smile. A few days later, back at his office on Frenchman Street, away from the crowds and strangers, I asked him for clarification. He suggested that Local 93 was the first racially integrated, AFL-affiliated union local in the United States featuring "Blacks" in positions of authority (Pierre Barthé was the first President of Local 93). However, I knew that racial qualifiers like "black" and "white" were not always used in the same way by Louisiana Creoles in New Orleans, particularly older Creoles like my uncle. Did he mean to say that Local 93 was integrated and open to Whites and Blacks, or did he mean to say that Local 93 was integrated between Whites and Creoles? Earl looked at me out of the corner of his eye and massaged his chin pensively before clarifying that the union was integrated between Whites and Creoles. When I asked him when the first African Americans were allowed in the union, he replied that he was unsure but that it was certainly after World War II. #" " Earl understood a difference between Blacks and Creoles. He understood that difference experientially: he grew up during a time when the animosity between Downtown New Orleans Creoles and Uptown New Orleans African Americans was so real that interactions between the two groups often devolved into violence. That story of ethnic antipathy among people of color in New Orleans is not a feel-good story. It is not the sort of story to draw people in and make them smile. It is, however, a crucial part of the story that I intend to tell in this work. The story of Louisiana Creoles in New Orleans is a convoluted one because it is the story of an in-between people who do not fit neatly into the black and white American racial narrative. Though it may be hard for some to accept, Creoles are not Americans in the sense that white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestants in New York, or Maryland, or Georgia are Americans. The Americans, Whites and Blacks alike, were cultural "others" to the Creole people of Louisiana until the 20th century. The story I intend to tell in this work is the story of how these two groups, American and Creole, overcame that state of "otherness" in the 20th century (to the extent that that state of otherness was actually overcome, a proposition both debatable and better left to a separate study). The history of Creoles in the 20th century is often obscured by American racial protocols utilized by historians who attempt to qualify Creoles racially by describing them as "Afro-Creoles." This practice was engaged in response to attempts in the late 19th century by revisionists like Gayerré and Grace King who attempted to disqualify people of color from a Creole identity.