NOLA Notes

I finished Dan Baum’s “Nine Lives: Death and Life in New Orleans” this afternoon. Then watched the season finale of HBO’s “Treme.”

*Sigh*

Maybe it is still too soon for me to return to Katrina memories—those feelings of utter hopelessness and gut-wrenching devastation.  The knowledge of the fallibility of every level of our American government.  The early days, before the people of New Orleans returned home and began to put the pieces back together.

Nine Lives came highly recommended to me by several sources.  And I devour New Orleans’ books, so even though the topic was Katrina-related, I decided to jump in.  Two of the nine lives touched me immensely and were enough to make reading the book worthwhile.  Those two were Ronald Lewis and Wilbert Rawlins, Jr.  These two men each deserve entire books written about them.  My comments below about Nine Lives do NOT reflect my feelings of these two mostly unsung heroes.

Nine Lives and, to a smaller extent, Treme, have had me, for the first time in my life, questioning my love and devotion to New Orleans.  I’ve always loved and defended my City.  But the portrayals by Nine Lives and Treme suggest New Orleanians are lazy, racist, and expectant of our government to bail us out of our troubles.

Treme does a better job of explaining that New Orleanians are not lazy; rather, we don’t chase the Almighty Dollar the way others in this country do.  We aren’t as focused about minivans, climbing the corporate ladder, or keeping up appearances as much as we are focused about our strong ties to family, meals (as a celebration, not sustenance), and tradition (and often, these three are bound together).  Treme also attempts to portray the soul that is New Orleans and that is in each of her residents.

With Nine Lives, not one of the nine was relatable to my life or so many middle class whites, which, in turn, suggests there is NO middle class in NOLA—just uber rich whites and poor blacks.  And that just is not true, at least that is not MY New Orleans.  I grew up in New Orleans East.  There were whites, blacks, Asians, Spanish, you name it.  They were my classmates, my co-workers, my friends.  We played and spent nights at each others’ homes, we celebrated birthdays together, and never once thought about race.  It bothers me that such complete integration was ignored by Baum.  But he’s not from NOLA, so I suppose it’s acceptable that he missed that entire cross-section.

My life is not really represented in Treme either.  But at least the folks in Treme clearly represent people I know, things I myself have done.  They portray real NOLA characters.

But does either really reflect the *real* New Orleans?  And is that a reflection that is even possible?  Is there only ONE New Orleans?

All the political scandals and back-room deals; all the promotions because of the proper uptown name and/or membership in the exclusive carnival clubs; all the crimes the police and/or the news have overlooked because of overly-friendly biased relationships—it’s all a part of the City’s history.  But no part of my personal history.  It makes me angry that in having defended my City, I have defended these transgressors.  Yet the transgressions continue.  And I am still defending my City.  And now I am wondering if I am being too naive.  That maybe New Orleans, though most unique, isn’t worth the trouble.

As I wrote that last sentence, what always gets me about New Orleans got me again: its people.  The Ronald Lewises and Wil Rawlinses that we have.  And a list of other people that live here that just wouldn’t fit as comfortably in another city, like myself.  The way a jazz funeral would be a strange occurrence anywhere else.

So, no, I WON’T bow down, come to think of it.  I see fine cracks that I maybe never saw before.  Ugly cracks, actually, that I’d rather just ignore.  But I won’t turn my back on New Orleans now.  Nor will I remain passive in the transgressions I learn of being committed.  Because we deserve better than that for which we have settled for way too long.  And, at least for me, it’s just not okay for our broken systems to openly remain so.