New Orleans. It is a horrible place filled with crime, despair, and no opportunities. It would never be a place where I would want to go to college, start a family, or begin a successful career. Somewhere like Boston, North Carolina, or Chicago would be much more enriched with opportunities for success in life. These past few sentences are a summary of my thoughts the summer after freshmen year. The last few weeks of that May were particularly hard and emotional, and I was ready to pack my bags and say goodbye to New Orleans. So, that is exactly what I did. I packed my bags and escaped from my “NOLA” life ready to forget everything involving New Orleans, and it is because of this that I am New Orleans.
My place of escape was Washington D.C. I went there for a camp at Georgetown University, and I was fascinated with the idea that no one knew who I was or know what my life was like. I could be anyone I wanted to be. However, it wasn’t hard for people to figure out where I was from.
Everyone made fun of me for multiple reasons: I was the old one that said “y’all” instead of “guys”, I got obnoxiously excited every time someone mentioned the Super bowl, and I listened to nothing but “Stand Up and Get Crunk”. Everyone complained about D.C’s warm temperature and humidity, when I simply thought that it was perfect condition for a light jacket. The city was filled with equally high concrete buildings, clean streets, and everyone dressed in business attire. I was used to Mardi Gras beads left on trees, trash on the roads, squished together houses, and everyone dressed in a Saints shirt and jeans. I began to feel overwhelmed; everything looked perfect. There were no chipped pieces of paint on buildings, unique iron work on houses, bands and painters in the street, and there was no waving to a random person on the sidewalk just because you decided you wanted to be nice today. It was concrete and grey. I began to long for the city that I worked so hard to get away from.
With the craving of Popeye’s fried chicken making my mouth water, I flew home after a month in D.C. Once I got back home, I realized that New Orleans is a lot more than I thought. New Orleans wasn’t the thing holding be back, but it was the thing that was pushing me forward. New Orleans makes me unique, and the daily experiences I have had here make me a stronger person. I can’t try to run away from New Orleans because it is a part of me, but it is not worth running away from. Where ever life takes me, I will always be a New Orleanian.
- Katie, age 16