Brittany - Heat

Eating Plum Street snowballs is a method of escaping heat that cannot be beat

Next up is swimming in various, then portable fans that spray water

Although miserable, the heat is an irreplaceable and inevitable aspect of summer in New Orleans

If it were cold, there would be no need for the constant consumption of snowballs

The locals, who know their way around, would be hesitant to go pool hopping around the city

Embrace the heat 

Brittany, age 16

Sarah - Heat

Heat here in New Orleans is like no other.  You can thank Mother Nature for that. Northerners always seem to be astonished  in the way that our winter time is a low 60 degrees while their high of summer time is 60 degrees. There is absolutely no escaping the heat of this place unless that person shoves their whole face into a snowball. It is actually quite funny how a New Orleanian travels up north and freaks out because of the cool weather because they did not even know that weather could be this cool. Another thing about our weather is that it is as bipolar as the abominable snowman from Rudolf - changing from rain to the highest hot weather. For example, the day after Katrina left New Orleans completely destroyed, there was this beautifully hot weather almost like mother nature were saying, “Ok, sorry for ruining your city! Here is some weather to melt your popsicles when the sun sees them!” So thank you, Mother Nature, for our psychotic weather. 

Sarah, age 16

Taylor - Heat

Escaping the Heat

Escaping the heat, yeah right!

By the time one goes from HOT to just warm you are nearly naked.

It’s an ever going contest between the heat and the cooling agent known as the fan. All the fans in the world can’t beat this heat!

 Jump in the pool… feels so good until you realize the water you imagined so cold and cooling as actually leuk warm and sticky. 

The conclusion to this hot topic - there is NO escape!

The New Orleans heat is just like the New Orleans people who take it all in; it doesn’t back down at the sign of a challenge.

This being said, IF YOU CANT BEAT IT, LEARN TO ROLL WITH IT … Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler!

Taylor, age 16

Emily - NOLA Infleunces

               In New Orleans, people just party in the streets. This sounds like a stereotype, doesn’t it? And, it may be a stereotype, but it is a stereotype that is totally true. I know because I have seen it with my own eyes.  I’m not even talking about an exceptional occasion like Jazz Fest or Mardi Gras;  I am telling you that I have witnessed the formation of a spontaneous street party with my own eyes.

                I was at Antoine’s in the Hermes Bar, enjoying dinner with my family. All of the windows and doors were open, and there was a seamless transition from the interior of the restaurant to the old, narrow street outside. Just as I was finishing my last bite of baked Alaska, three men, each with a different brass instrument came promenading around the corner, and, deciding that the middle of the road was an ideal spot for a little jam session, began to play a lively jazz tune. How nice, I thought to myself, dinner and a show. Little did I know what this benign spectacle would escalate into.

                At first, just a few people stopped by to watch the band. Some watched for a few minutes before heading on their way. Others only slowed their pace just so that they could enjoy the music for a moment, without idling over much.  However, not fifteen minutes had gone by before this band of vagabond musicians had themselves a small audience. Just moments later, the small audience had grown into a considerable crowd. Before I knew it, a frenzied parade of people filled the entire street, and the brassy music was almost lost in the swell of elated cries.  

                I realized at that moment why New Orleans is such a charming city. The spirit of eternal celebration that is so present here creates an atmosphere that makes locals feel especially at home while also entreating newcomers to stay forever. The life of the city creates a cycle of companionship. Our celebrations bring people together to revel in our shared friendship, so that the next time we hear lively jazz music, it is second nature to come together and celebrate. The celebration strengthens the bonds of the community, and the cycle starts over again.

Emily, age 15

Camille - Heat

My Old Jeep

My old jeep got 13 miles per gallon

My old jeep had no air conditioning

There was no place to escape the heat in my Old Jeep

I’m pretty sure there were things living in my Old Jeep

I was living in my Old Jeep

The plastic that is above the window was broken on my Old Jeep

There was paint missing on the driver’s side of my Old Jeep

I loved my Old Jeep

My Old Jeep was replaced by a stupid Hyundai Elentra

The air conditioning works in this stupid Hyundai

The stupid Hyundai is clean as a whistle

The stupid Hyundai offers a place to escape from the heat

But it is still not my Old Jeep

 Camille, age 17

Maeve - Heat

I sit in my car and my thighs are slowly cooked

by the smoldering black leather

which has stood the persistence

of the sun for almost eight hours.

The sun heatedly argues its point only to be

interrupted by the distressing presence of the clouds which

start to cry…

                the devil must be beating his wife

                                my mother says.

Persephone tried to escape the heat,

                Escape the beating she was sure to get,

                                Cursing the seeds that she ate naively,

I can hear the skin cells of my thighs protest the moment

they hit the seat.

Maeve, age 17