Choctaw Blood, Creole Soul – Let’s Set This Straight

Aight y’all, lemme get this off my chest before I lose my mind. People be out here talking all types of mess about who’s who, where they from, what’s “Indian,” what’s Creole, and I be sittin’ like… hold up now. Let me school y’all real quick, ‘cause apparently nobody told y’all the real story.

First off..

there were no Seminoles in New Orleans... Don’t let anybody fool you with that “I heard somewhere” nonsense. Seminoles? They all Florida natives  That ain’t where we from. My family roots are Choctaw. Full stop. That’s my people, my blood, my history, and yeah, that’s why I can walk around with my head held high and know where I come from.

Now don’t get it twisted, Creole don’t cancel that. Creole  is the blood that makes me me., my fNew Orleans seasoning. It’s French, it’s African, it’s Indigenous, it’s chaotic, it’s beautiful, it’s survival. My grandma, my mama, my line started with a Choctaw woman and Frenchman, y’all. My earliest American forefather in America was not born here, but he came here in the 1700s and got himself and indigenous beautiful woman and together they started layin’ down the foundation for the chaos, the culture, and the sass that runs through me. That’s documented. Not some “hearsay from cousin so-and-so at the cookout.” Real records. Real blood. Real lineage.

And don’t even get me started on people saying “Indian” like it's some kind of fancy word that makes you feel good. My people are Choctaw. That’s the word. Say it, spell it, own it. Don’t water it down. Don’t let ignorance win. You wanna respect? Start with facts. Start with truth.

Anyway,I know.We are black, we are Choctaw. We are Creole. We are New Orleans. And if anybody tries to tell me different, I'll Just sip my cafe au lait, blink slow, and let them talk... Cause I know my roots