Love Letters: New Orleans

My post from Huffington Post. I did fix some stuff on this posting that needed it.

 

By Love Letters

THE BLOG

11/20/2013

Dar Wolnik is a blogger, activist and Girl Friday to her city of New Orleans. She lives downtown and is mostly seen on one of her three bikes or scooter, but also travels widely to work with community food systems across the U.S. as a consultant.
Dear New Orleans,

My confession starts this letter. As you know my lovely Crescent City, I found you only as a teenager. My first home and childlike love — the city of Cleveland in my heart — but not as you do.I often try to find similarities between the two cities, to understand why I love them both. Besides water, I cannot find any other shared qualities.
When I came to live here with my New Orleans mother thankfully, gratefully returning home after 20 years away, my own welcome was deep and magical. Old women on stoops and shopkeepers alike beckoned me over, asked for my teenaged story and warmly welcomed me home. It’s true. That happened again and again. How did you know that I needed you?

And for the first time in my young life, I connected to a place, to a set of smells, sounds, and sights that seemed overwhelmingly pleasing and joyful. I know now that city life appeals to me, but that it must be a place that is not too much of a bustling one, only busy with business or building new or bigger.

Your constantly decaying greenery, unique architecture and many hues and ages of people using public space freely gave me the specifications for a scale that remains how I compare all other cities.Aging is a delicate problem for all females and I know that you struggle with how to remain appealing and relevant. Those who love you attempt to shield you from some of the worst criticisms leveled at you because of your age. Well, to be completely truthful, some of that criticism comes because of your troubling past, which is linked to some of the most difficult days in our country’s history and your present status as a city of recovery, yet again. We shield you and protect you, even as we try to strengthen you.

Your cultural attributes are world renowned but to limit you to only the delights of the dance hall girl is to miss your deep work ethic and political savvy. That work ethic can be seen in your shipping port for one. A port that remains one of the busiest in the world and vitally important to the health of the people in this country. You can be found morning and night, toiling valiantly at the unsexy work in bringing and sending the food and goods needed to be traded in a hemisphere of our size. Dance-hall girl only indeed.

The river. The great Mississippi River, our American Nile. That river is of course, why we are here with you; the explorers Bienville and Iberville came to find the mouth of it to give France control of the commerce that would surely flow in this New World. Oh, it’s a beautiful thing and its work to keep flooding from those upriver and shipping flowing all along its course is remarkable. You have every right to be proud of it.

But sometimes, I think that you miss that what makes those attributes old-fashioned in the minds of Americans.  They seem anachronistic in a country with east-west tendencies and speeding highways and planes. The dance-hall girl is fun and so they search only for that, found through your jazz and brass bands and cuisine. That freewheeling attitude has and will bring you many short-term loves, but it is not enough of a reason for them to love you in bad times too. And bad times are part of the deal. From the yellow fever days, through slave commerce and the 20th-century fight over the integration of schools and up to and including the levee breaks of 2005 and the BP oil spill of 2010. Those are the times when we know who really loves you by those willing to pick you up and carry you for a little while you heal.

It would be wrong to say that you welcomed us at first- sickness and swamps were your opening salvo but lucky for us, enough Old World ne’er-do-wells, second sons, and brave little nuns stayed. I know that you grew to love the type of people sent to you and that also makes you special; your love of your people and acceptance of their quirks. That love is reciprocated in how many people believe that hurricanes will never make direct landfall on the city or in how we willingly leave places with much more efficient infrastructure behind to be with you. That willingness was mighty evident in the hundreds of thousands of your people that quickly returned in 2005/2006. The deep love that we have for you was so apparent in those days; I’m sure that you felt it, even as you lay in tatters and pieces, shocked and ignored by others. People living in cars and ten to a room rebuilt this place, finding joy in your slow recovery.

We respect your ideas about multiculturalism and how they were built by the wide diversity of people that you accepted here, even as we angrily fight with you over your wrong ideas too that bar many from realizing full citizenship. It’s true that we feel your warmth but also your brutality too.  We do our best to use joy and togetherness to reduce that side of you, hoping for the day it is no longer part of your personality.

So, I think of you not as my first love, full of overwrought and inaccurate ideas but as my mature love, aware of flaws and inconsistencies, but still appreciative.

 

 

 

 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/love-letters/love-letters-new-orleans_b_4219236.html

Advertisements

About DW

New Orleans resident, writer, activist. Public market consultant.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s