by Stephanie Detillier

A chief and her family call on a tradition of ancient remedies mixed
with modern-day politicking to aid those with nowhere else to turn.

Healing is her family’s legacy. While growing up in Golden Meadow, Brenda Dardar-Robichaux watched all walks of life visit her grandfather, Ernest Dardar, for a cure to their ailments. Ernest, a well-respected Houma tribal leader, called on American Indian traditions as he boiled plants and mixed medicinal brews into soothing teas.

Brenda has long given up being a bystander. Now, she is the one sought by thousands of United Houma Nation citizens who need help overcoming the challenges of providing for their families, ensuring their children attend college and rebuilding their homes.

“I’d like to think I’m continuing my grandfather’s legacy in a different way,” Brenda, the principal chief of the United Houma Nation and founder of the United Houma Nation Relief Fund, says. Although she is far too modest to admit it, her leadership is largely the reason the traditions of her family and hundreds of other Houma families are enduring.

Her work has recently earned her a new title: winner of the Gloria Steinem Woman of Vision Award from the Ms. Foundation for Women. Brenda traveled to receive the award in May, an honor that has been bestowed upon other great female leaders such as Marlo Thomas, Gloria Steinem, Erin Brockovich and Hillary Clinton.

Becoming the First
Visitors to the Robichaux home on La. 1 in Raceland are sure
to notice the print of a Norman Rockwell painting mounted above
the stairwell. A young, black Ruby Bridges clutches a book and ruler
as white federal marshals accompany her en route to school.

“That is Brenda,” Dr. Michael Robichaux, a physician and former state senator, says, pointing to Briggs. “When Martin Luther King III visited, I told him if not for his father, Brenda would not be where she is today.”

Although Michael is his wife’s biggest fan, his remarks are far from exaggeration. Indian children were not allowed to attend public school until the Civil Rights Movement. Brenda’s parents were limited to seventh grade educations at the Old Settlement School below Golden Meadow. Her family was not welcome to buy groceries or get haircuts in the Golden Meadow community.

“Being the first generation to integrate public schools was quite a transition,” Brenda explains. “We all faced discrimination and name calling. I would go home crying; others put up their fists fighting.”

Brenda’s mother often went to school to defend her daughter. The challenges caused many older Indian students to drop out. Brenda became her family’s first graduate—quite an accomplishment for Indian families. Although no resources and support systems were available
to make college possible for Brenda, her education was far from over.

Leading the Way for Future Generations
Brenda never set out to be a United Houma Nations leader, even though her mother was a long-serving tribal council member. “I watched my mother attend meetings and saw how frustrated she became with the challenges the tribe faced,” Brenda says. “I admired her but thought, ‘I don’t know if I could do this.’”

However, shortly after graduation, Brenda began working for the Lafourche Parish School Board Indian Education program where she has served as the cultural resource specialist for 30 years. Before long, she was a member of the tribal council, representing Lafourche Parish. Brenda worked her way up the ranks from secretary/treasurer to vice chairwoman to tribal chairwoman. After she served as chairwoman for four years, the United Houma Nation constitution was revised, allowing tribal members to vote and changing the leadership title to principal chief. Brenda won her first election with 74 percent of the votes. She is in the middle of her second and final term and will have served as the United Houma Nation’s leader for 12 years when the term ends next year.

“I certainly didn’t see myself here,” Brenda says. “The Creator has a calling for you that you often don’t recognize. My goal is for the Houma Indians to maintain their traditional lifestyles and be able to survive the threat of coastal erosion and hurricanes.”

Brenda’s job with the school system and position with the tribe are symbiotic. Approximately 700 students benefit from the Lafourche Parish Indian Education program, which provides tutoring services, cultural activities, field trips and summer camps. At last summer’s United Houma Nation camp, students from all parishes were divided into different tribal communities and assigned to create multimedia presentations on their community’s traditional language, medicine, architecture and art. Students armed with digital cameras embarked on a nature hike to photograph plants used in traditional remedies. A mock tribal council allowed teenagers an opportunity to discuss real scenarios facing the United Houma Nation.

“These opportunities hopefully provide students with the self-confidence to excel in school and run for 4-H president or Student Council,” Brenda says. Education is still a hurdle for the tribe. Brenda’s son, like the children of many members, was the first to attend college.

Reviving a Drowned Community
While packing to leave for a tribal conference on the Rosebud Sioux
Reservation in South Dakota, Brenda and Michael Robichaux received word a storm was approaching the Florida coast.

Katrina affected 4,000 tribal members, many of whom had moved to the New Orleans area for better educational opportunities. Michael immediately began clearing out his grandfather’s general store, which had been abandoned for 50 years. Wal-Mart’s Native American division donated four truckloads of clothing, water, cleaning products and canned food, which was distributed to members from the store.

“Word quickly spread. Good-hearted people, tribes and otherorganizations began donating supplies and money. Children were sending their allowances,” Brenda says. “None of the organizations that should have helped came to our rescue.”

Before Brenda had the United Houma Nation Relief Fund under control, Hurricane Rita had uprooted the lives of 4,000 other members. “I can’t tell you the feeling I got when I learned an entire different population had been affected,” she says.

Volunteers from across the country showed up at the Robichaux home—doctors, lawyers, teachers and self-proclaimed hippies. Brenda does not remember how many came. There was no time and too many to count. The Robichaux yard became home to more than 80 tents.

Brenda cooked big pots of gumbo and jambalaya each night. After supper she coordinated the skills of the volunteers with the needs of the tribe, which included everything from gutting homes to delivering supplies. “The volunteers were my ears and eyes in the community,” Brenda says. “They did what I couldn’t do. Each night they’d report back to me on how the tribe members were doing.”

A downstairs room that had once been a hangout spot for the Robichaux family became an office for the tribe’s relief efforts. The office now helps members secure grant money to put toward home down payments or toward new boats and equipment for fishermen.

Keeping the Story Alive
The hurricanes brought one gift to the United Houma Nation: the opportunity to tell its story—one that is often overlooked.

As the official spokesperson for the Houma Indians, Brenda found herself in unusual and sometimes uncomfortable situations. The Ms. Foundation for Women (who recently awarded her the Gloria Steinem Women of Vision Award), which awarded a grant to provide services for Houma women, secured a place for Brenda in national roundtables and conferences. At a panel discussion in New Orleans, Brenda sat alongside Mayor Ray Nagin and two other mayors. Nagin spoke of the New Orleans revival. People were coming back to the city, he said. Brenda countered: “Only people with resources are coming back.” To another mayor’s comment that citizens should have listened to Nagin’s evacuation order,
she replied: “Only people with resources can evacuate.”

“Being in that situation brought back memories of being uncomfortable at school. All those insecurities resurfaced. But I was supposed to represent the people who put me there. I had to be their voice,” she says.

Juggling Multiple Roles
Life was nothing less than hectic following the hurricanes. People showed up on her doorstep every day. The phone rang constantly. Brenda had to set limits on her time. She promised her daughter, Felicite, she would not take phone calls while driving her to school.

Even in Disney World, Brenda answered e-mails at night and applied for a grant over the phone while watching Felicite ride a rollercoaster over and over. Her son Jason will continue the family’s healing tradition after earning his nursing degree this May. Josh, her oldest son, has a bachelor’s degree from LSU and a master’s degree from the University of Arizona. He works for the U.S. Committee on Natural Resources Office of Indian Affairs
in Washington, D.C. All three have been a part of their mother’s work and volunteered at tribal events and camps, and all three know the family legacy that will be theirs to keep alive. PoV