Drake LeBlanc
Musician and Louisiana French language and culture bearer Jourdan Thibodeaux.
This article was published in partnership with Télé-Louisiane. Read more about our collaboration with the bilingual Louisiana media platform here, and find the French version of this story at telelouisiane.com.
Last October, Lafayette’s Festivals Acadiens et Créoles closed out Saturday night with a performance by Jourdan Thibodeaux and his band Les Rôdailleurs. The set included hits from Thibodeaux’s 2018 debut album, which has earned him a following at home and afar, as well as a mix of new tunes anchored by his French lyrics.
His last song of the night, also the title from his sophomore album released this spring, La Prière, didn’t conform to typical closers. Instead, it was slow, rhythmic, solemn. The crowd, which had spent the day two stepping and waltzing, turned to the stage in reverence. Many swayed back and forth. Among those who could understand Thibodeaux’s French lyrics, there were even tears.
In the first lines, dubbed over an interview with Thibodeaux’s late grandfather Charles Herbert, he chants: “Tu vis ta culture ou tu tues ta culture, il y a pas de milieu.” You live your culture or you kill your culture, there isn’t any middle ground.
In the song, Thibodeaux acknowledges the young Louisianans who cannot understand his lyrics, people who have forgotten Louisiana’s traditions and its language, and those who only speak, as he sang, “la langue de les conquis,” or the language of the conquered—English.
“Tu vis ta culture ou tu tues ta culture, il y a pas de milieu.” You live your culture or you kill your culture, there isn’t any middle ground. —Jourdan Thibodeaux
At the core of “La Prière,” which means “The Prayer,” Thibodeaux invokes that the French language—and the culture that sustained it—will not fade away into history. He prays that people continue to actively participate in Louisiana’s rich cultural heritage. And he prays that his generation won’t be the last to live it.
"La Prière" by Jourdan Thibodeaux
While “La Prière” is a somber reminder of how much Americanization has changed Louisiana, it’s also a rallying cry to assemble all the cultural pieces that former generations left behind, in order to preserve and perpetuate the qualities that make Louisiana so unique. This call to action, in large part, is Thibodeaux’s life’s work.
“People are always saying, ‘I’m Cajun’ or ‘I’m Creole.’ And they’re really proud of that,” he said. “But you can’t only have the title. If you want the title, you need to keep everything associated with it. You need to keep the language, the culture, the religion—because it’s all connected.”
Thibodeaux learned French from his grandmother, Lucille “Hazel” Blanchard. In order to pass the language to his two daughters, he speaks French to them at home, ensuring that in his family the over-three-hundred-year-old linguistic chain remains unbroken. He sticks to traditions that he was raised with—such as Roman Catholicism, hunting and gardening, and local customs like “pâquer,” which features knocking eggs together in a game played at Easter.
“We need to pass all that we have been given from other people to the next generation,” he said.
La Prière
La Prière’s original 2020 release was delayed due to COVID-19. Thibodeaux, who plays fiddle and sings, released the album with Eunice’s Valcour Records with his band Jourdan Thibodeaux et Les Rôdailleurs, which he founded in 2018. Today, the band consists of renowned musicians Cedric Watson, Joel Savoy, Alan Lafleur, and Adam Cormier.
While many local artists who sing in French today record remakes of older songs, or stick to traditional notions of what Cajun or Zydeco music ‘should’ sound like, Thibodeaux writes his own music, on his own terms. His songs are heavy on the fiddle and feature prominently his raspy Louisiana French lyrics. For La Prière, Thibodeaux and his band cut songs from a list of around forty that he has written over the course of the last several years. “I recorded the songs I feel the most at the moment,” he said.
The resulting album represents snippets of the musician’s life in Cypress Island in rural St. Martin Parish, much of it spent tending to horses and working outside. When people ask him what sort of music he plays, Thibodeaux usually responds: “Louisiana French music.”
“When I was younger, that’s what my grandmother called it,” he said. “It was just French music, and it was the music of the country. It was never ‘Cajun’ or ‘Creole’. Because everyone here was the same people. We were one culture.”
Many French and Creole-speaking Louisianans were ushered into mainstream America only a few decades ago; the remnants of the once-isolated, regional culture of South Louisiana are dwindling, but they do still survive. Thibodeaux believes holding fast to these old traditions—the language, food, music, and cultural practices—serve as a guide to approach the future. And perhaps that’s the lasting message of La Prière—respect heritage traditions, and continue them with all that you’ve got.
“How are you going to know where you’re going,” Thibodeaux said, “if you don’t know where you come from?”
Keep up with Thibodeaux’s upcoming performances on Instagram, @jourdanthibodeaux where he also creates a series of entertaining and educational language videos titled “Louisiana French du jour”.
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