Driving into the Whitney Plantation, I felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. The history embedded in this place was palpable, and flipping through the pages of "The Fiery Trial" by Eric Foner deepened my sense of reverence and curiosity. Speaking with the guide after the tour, I learned about the shop on the plantation, which closed in 1975 during the civil rights movement. This made me ponder the transformation of plantations from sites of slavery to symbols of resilience. Hosting weddings on these grounds, as the guide explained, symbolized power and wealth. But I saw a deeper potential—these sites could become powerful symbols of struggle, resilience, and ultimate victory, reflecting the strength of generations of enslaved people. A place for Black Resilience, Black Marriage, and celebration.
Monday, May 27th, was a day of profound experiences. City Park in New Orleans was breathtaking, a stark contrast to the Lower 9th Ward's unfulfilled promises post-Hurricane Katrina. The degradation outside the houses, juxtaposed with newly constructed ones, was a sobering sight. Some pictures humorously asked Brad Pitt to fulfill his promises, using GoFundMe QR codes to highlight the exorbitant repair costs. Amidst this, the investment in Musicians' Village by Qatar rekindled hope, reminding me of Buddy Bolden and the undying spirit of jazz that permeates this city. That evening, the sweltering heat of Preservation Hall was offset by the joyous sounds of jazz, a testament to the city's resilience.
Standing outside William T. Frantz School, I was struck by the weight of history. This all-white school, central to the desegregation efforts post-Brown v. Board of Education, was where Ruby Bridges bravely faced relentless racism at just six years old. Her story is both heartbreaking and commendable, reflecting the resistance to desegregation—much like the resistance seen during the Capitol riots on January 6th. Nearby, a memorial for those lost to natural disasters highlighted the city's enduring spirit. Water, both a sustaining and destructive force, often goes unexamined in its true potential—much like the underlying causes of climate change, which I define as the rapid rate of temperature changes outpacing regional adaptation.
Visiting the site of "The Yellow House" at 4121 Wilson Avenue brought Sarah Broom's words to life. The absence of the house, where water first breached during Hurricane Katrina, echoed her sentiment: “Look like nothing was ever there.” This loss, compounded by the scattering of her family, highlighted the fragmentation of both her family and the broader community. Broom’s reflection on the abandoned Six Flags amusement park symbolized the decay and abandonment that parts of New Orleans still face. Seeing a freshly painted yellow house nearby, I felt a mix of nervousness and joy as children shouted, "Papa is here," when Andrew rang the doorbell. The 4121 painted on the sidewalk stood as a testament to the enduring memory of literature and history in New Orleans East.
Our stop at the abandoned amusement park in East New Orleans was both eerie and fascinating. The guard’s reluctant opening of the gate, and the unexpected meeting with Elvin Ross, producer for Tyler Perry, revealed the park's potential for film shoots. This made me envision a restored amusement park, a beacon of economic revival and community spirit, much like the revitalized upper 9th Ward. I imagined what could be built here to benefit the people, the city, and the district.
City Park, with its elevated houses and beautiful scenery, was a stark contrast to East New Orleans. Sitting by the water at City Park, I felt a sense of renewal and hope. The Mediterranean meal at Mona’s Café, with its blend of new and old flavors, was the perfect culmination of the day. Watching people swim and canoe, I imagined a future where I could own a house on Moss Street, overlooking the lake terrace.
Inside a Slave Pen Cell where ensalved individuals were chained
By the shore at City Park
Yesterday’s visit to Preservation Hall, despite the moldy smell of the city en route, was a highlight. A conversation with our Uber driver, Chris, a barber and part-time trombone player, revealed how rideshare had become his economic lifeline as music gigs paid less over the years. This underscored the importance of music and arts not just to the city’s identity but also to its economic fabric, where many rely on tips due to low wages in an expensive, tourist-driven economy. His license plate said ‘CUTHAIR’ instead of a number - reflecting his part-time work.
Walking back with Irina one night from the Shop, we observed the city's nocturnal transformation. The music-blasting cyclist and the rats scurrying about captured the essence of New Orleans’ duality—a normal city by day, a lively, almost surreal place by night. This contrast reminded me of the characters in "Interview with the Vampire," where the city itself becomes a character, transforming with the darkness.
New Orleans is a city of contrasts, resilience, and history. From the painful memories of slavery at the Whitney Plantation to the vibrant sounds of jazz at Preservation Hall, every step in this journey has been a blend of past and present, joy and sorrow. As Buddy Bolden’s spirit lingers in the air, so does the hope and resilience of this incredible city.
“Distance lends perspective, but it can also shade, misinterpret” (Broom). Remembering the past while experiencing the present has given me a deeper understanding of New Orleans—a place where history and modernity coexist in a perpetual dance, much like the jazz that defines it.