We are on the last legs of our bookpacking through Louisiana, finding ourselves in New Roads, a small town in Pointe Coupee Parish. New Roads has the charm of a small Southern town, picturesque against the False River, and everything seems like a movie. Everyone is super kind, and the town has the cutest small diners and shops, happy and sweet residents, and even the classic charismatic and approachable Sheriff. When we first arrived, we looked at the city courthouse, where we were met, with movie written dialogue, Sheriff René Thibodeaux, who is the epitome of southern hospitality. The sheriff greeted us with eagerness to know more about us and what we were doing in Pointe Coupee, and when we talked a little more he was so excited. We were invited inside to meet the Chief of Police, Kevin McDonald, and the Mayor of New Roads, Cornell Dukes after having a small conversation with the Sheriff, leading to another much more engaging and inspiring conversation; both telling us all a lot about their careers and their connections to Dr. Gaines. It was inspiring to see two Black city council members in a small Southern town like this, Mayor Dukes having a personal connection with Dr. Gaines’ niece and wanting to know more about what led us down to Pointe Coupee Parish and our experiences with Dr. Gaines’ novel. Sheriff Thibodeaux talked a lot about himself with his charismatic charm, and how he didn’t get the chance to meet Dr. Gaines until he was in college outside of Pointe Coupee Parish. The cute Southern charm was all there, and I soaked it all up until we were led by Tamy, one of the workers of the Courthouse, to the top floor of the Courthouse.
Outside the New Roads’ Courthouse.
Tamy led us into a small, dark elevator where we entered a new dimension; confronted with the Pointe Coupee Parish that Dr. Gaines knew. Tamy gave us a tour of the jailhouse that was used during the 1940s, it was dark and stuffy, lacking windows and fresh air flow. Grant, the main character of Dr. Gaines’ novel, spends a lot of time in Dr. Gaines’ fictional space of the jailhouse. Grant is attempting to convince Jefferson, an 18-year-old man sentenced to death, that he is more than a hog and that he is a real man, before his death sentence date. Being inside these unused jail cells and trying to imagine what Jefferson would have experienced was difficult, I could not imagine what Black and brown bodies go through in incarceration. The tiny cells, now filled with storage boxes of old cases that took place in Pointe Coupee Parish, along with the stuffy air, made me feel a bit nauseous. I couldn’t help but walk around and think about all the lives lost in the scattered boxes, the boxes filling up these tiny, inhumane cells. These cells were intentionally created for inmates to feel suffocated and like animals, created to feel cold, hard, and lack privacy. They now hold the lives of individuals lost, carelessly strewn about, and collecting dust. In our carceral state, we want to punish people who break laws, but how do we protect the people the laws are fundamentally made against? How do we explain the inequalities of Black and Brown bodies in the prison system today?
“it look like the lord just work for wite folks”
New Roads is the real setting of Dr. Gaines’ A Lesson Before Dying fictional town of Bayonne. Taking place in this 1948 town, it is not so much different from what is currently taking place all over America. I was enchanted by the sweetness of New Roads, but talking to Cheylon Wood, an archivist for the Gaines Center at the University of Louisiana Lafayette, I quickly remembered where we are in the world, and how these towns were a part of horror for my ancestors. This is what Bayonne, or New Roads, meant to Dr. Gaines, just as much as Los Angeles has shaped me. Not only was this where he grew up as a child, but his family was sharecroppers on the land. Gaines based his character Jefferson on a true story of a young man named Willie Francis, an 18-year-old who was executed twice. These true stories, and being in the location of them, were the most authentic form of bookpacking I have experienced thus far, Grant’s social gravity being something I relate too, and can feel in the air of New Roads.
Old Sugar Cane processing bowl that has been transformed into a pond at Dr. Gaines’ house. Dr. Gaines’ house sits on the same land that this family was enslaved on, and then continued to be enslaved through sharecropping.
After another sweet lunch with the city council, where a local reporter interviewed me, I was introduced to Cheyon Woods. Cheyon’s soft reminders that we were, indeed, in the South, brought my focus back into view. We talked about the South, compared to Central Los Angeles, where I grew up and talked about Blackness and Louisiana and how Louisiana has changed, reverting to old ways. A well-educated woman, when telling her about how people were eager to meet us in New Roads, she reminded us that this “southern hospitality” was also a means of keeping track of us and what we were really in New Roads for. I thought back to the sly comment that was made by Sheriff Thibodeaux, that he never met Dr. Gaines until he was “Hollywood”. Although it is Southern Hospitality, there is an underlying covert form of constant conformity for the Black community, silently suffocating the Black people and visitors. This “southern hospitality” is a way of maintaining social order, and maintaining a sense of chivalry in public, while systematic racism and institutionalized racism continue in private.
Mass incarceration directly correlates to this way of policing, or monitoring, Black and other diverse communities. This mass monitoring of the Black community is what Grant in the novel is trying to escape from; an oppressive society that thwarts his goals and what he really wants out of this life. But he is ultimately stuck, confined to the plantation, and teaching these children. Cheyon’s reminder that we are in the South disrupted my ignorant bliss, but it reminded me of what the South and these small towns represent to people, good or bad. Even if this isn’t the intent, our systems and history ultimately prevent it from not being that way.
Yeah, some people will say that they have a Black Mayor and a Black Chief of Police, but that doesn’t mean that things are equal. This doesn’t mean that the Mayor and Chief aren’t operating under these same oppressive systems we see in Grant’s life and Sheriff Paul in the novel. I am confident that Mayor Dukes and Chief McDonald had to work harder and smart than everyone around them. What got Mayor Dukes and Chief McDonald into their positions in the community, and the people that supported them and surrounded them with love and encouragement when things got rough, or who supported them through college and raised them to be leaders.
Dr. Gaines’ A Lesson Before Dying, and my trip through New Roads have been one of the most influential parts of this trip for me. Dr. Gaines not only inspired me but reminded me why I wanted to go to Law School and why I continue to work so hard every day, but reminded me of my Blackness and dutifulness to uplift my community. I needed this reminder, invigorating me to work hard and be educated. I remembered that I am more than an individual, and I must uplift my community as well, in any capacity I can. Los Angeles has intensely shaped who I am as a person because I am uplifted by my community; as Cheylon said, I didn’t get here without it. I was reminded of the importance of how I developed into who I am, and what led me to the law and advocacy in the first place. I lost my passion for liberating my community and found myself so depressed the last few years in a predominately white space, without the ability to remember what this was all for. This reminder of who I am comes at the expense of reading and hearing real accounts of what my ancestors may have succumbed to. I feel relentlessly angry, knowing that Chief’s monitoring of me got bypassed as kindness, remembering this history; remembering Pointe Coupee used to be home to several plantations, but relentlessly as these forms of racism continue to thrive in different forms today. As they continue to thrive, it is my duty as a privilege person to come back and liberate my community.
“I want you to show them the difference between what they think you are and what you can be.”
Community means more than just my direct community in Los Angeles. It is the bigger picture, it is for all of the Black community. I am here to support the people that look down on me as a “sellout” and do not understand, but also the people who are looking for me to be a leader, and the people who do not know at all. It is uplifting for all the people who have come before me, and who are coming after me. Dr. Gaines, even beyond the grave, has a great impact on the people who learn about him, and who he is. I am forever grateful for this reminder.
"To lie with those who have no mark”
The grave of the amazing Ernest J. Gaines.