Olivia - Summer Rain

I used to play this summer game,
And it’s supposed to sound like summer rain.

Clear drops begin to hit the gutter,
When fingers slip against one another.

Battered roofs take the rap,
As the ring and thumb make a snap.

Sheets of water fall root bound,
Like pounding fists that smash the ground.

Thunder begins as the skies ignite,
While feet tread the earth with might.

Countless tears splash and resound,
Like pounding fists that smash the ground.

Torrents finally start to unwrap,
As the ring and thumb make a snap.

Showers drizzle down to a putter,
When fingers slip against one another.

All this from a summer game,
That’s supposed to sound like summer rain.

Olivia, age 17!

Amy - Summer Rain

Rain is what makes New Orleans unique

Daily surprise thunderstorms only make the city even more complete

In a constant damp summer atmosphere

It hits so hard the water is all you can hear

Other places think driving with a cluttered windshield is such a pain

But for us in New Orleans, it’s the most relaxing thing about that sweet summer rain

And how can the news say after all this rain we’re still in a drought?

They clearly have not been outside or they’d know without a doubt.

The rain boots, jackets, and colorful umbrellas abound in the mustered dark

But no storm can keep people from playing in the puddles in the park

The New Orleans rain helps make us the best city with no other above,

For its all of the unique characteristics that mold New Orleans into the city we all know and love.

Amy, Age 17

Olivia - Snowball

In New Orleans, there is no such thing as “Beating the Heat.”
Because we all know that it is a pointless battle
That will only leave us straddled
Somewhere between drowning
From the humidity that collects in our lungs with each breath
Or from the salty droplets that leak in through the corner of our dry mouths.

Living here means being broiled and braised for three-quarters of the year,
Set out on the cooling rack for the rest,
Only so that the entire cycle can start again.

This is where breakfast, lunch, and dinner are synonymous with Plum St., Hansen’s, and Sal’s.
Because we all know that a good snowball is the only remedy that can peel our melted bodies off the
sidewalk and put us back into a solid state.

And yet life carries on
In the midst of this oppressive warmth.
Notes of the Blues are still served up into the air.
Steaming spices are still playing flavors on tongues.

Because this is the City that Never Sleeps, right?
Ok, maybe not. But the Big Easy can do it too.
And so can The Crescent City, The Birthplace of Jazz, The Home of Mardi Gras.
The City that Care Forgot.

And the moment that a cool breeze finally catches in the air,
Every New Orleanian will say,
“Man, I’d pick being hot over being cold any day.”

Olivia - age 16.75

Madison - Message to young NOLA

how hypocritical
for me to say, we’re not that different really
when the worst thing to happen in my neighborhood
is the escape of the labradoodle next door.
how hypocritical
to pretend that we have the same beliefs.
when my school says no gum chewing
and the charter down the street? no handguns.

-stop-

You’re a who dat? and
You were at jazz fest, eating a mango freeze? and
You cried when the saints won the super bowl
but not when Your house was destroyed? and
You can tell the days of the week by whats cooking on the stove
Let’s see, monday? gotta be red beans. gotta be cornbread.

but most of all
You get a little pissed when people ask if You survived.
of course You survived, You’re here, aren’t You?
ain’t You here, just waitin to be found- by somebody, anybody.

You are here. and so am I.
we are beautiful in our brokenness; in our shared love affair
with this ditzy, drunken, magical place
we call home
reppin the 504ever.

- Madison, age 17

Gaby - Message to young NOLA

Life is short

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

After all, it is New Orleans

But life isn’t the Big Easy

It’s not ‘easy peasy lemon squeezy’

Some believe in fate,

Some believe in God,

Some are still in that debate

But know this, fate, nor God, will live out your life

They may be present, but know, that what you do

Will pursue

Reap what you sow

Be prudent, be wise,

But don’t be a PRUNE

Plant and harvest love

Weed out the hate

Dust if you must

But wouldn’t it be better to enjoy a beignet

And sit there with sugary powder as the Ponchatrain breeze embraces you?

Yes it’s true, that there’s so much to do

And if there’s no time for rest, then have you ever heard of a breather?

Despite the work and the hardships,

Know this:

A cup of determination, a cup of pure, concentrated will

And a cup of optimism

Will lead you through the potholes

And onto a smooth road.

-Gaby, 16

Rose - Message to young NOLA

Right now, you're probably wondering what you ever did to be plagued with this much pressure. School hasn't ever really been your thing; not that you don't exceed in other areas.

You're probably wondering how you're supposed to succeed now when it's never even really worked out for you in the past, so you should probably get to know this group of boys that I know who struggled with something similar.

These guys had been failing all throughout their 40-year franchise, and it seemed like nothing that they worked for ever went their way. They faced defeat after defeat, and every forward step they took seemed to bring them two steps backward again, like your attempts to go from 3 failing classes to 2 failing classes ended – with 4.

But, you should also probably know that when it came down to the most important moment, the hard work put forth by these guys finally paid off too. They didn’t care that they had never progressed that far before; they just kept moving forward with the help of a fearless leader named Drew. Pretty soon, these guys were a bit of an inspiration to anyone who laid eyes upon them, especially their home city.

And probably the most important part of their story was the end, which you are reaching for yourself now. The final moment to prove yourself. This isn’t any time to ease up; there’s always a chance at success if you have the right drive for it. You should probably take to heart the words that these boys heard at the end of their triumphant journey: Finish Strong.

Rose, age 17

Anonymous - Message to young NOLA

Have fun!
You live in the best city in the world, New Orleans.
Live your life to the fullest and have a great time.
Enjoy the music, the food, and the festivities throughout the city.
See everything! Do everything! Stop at nothing!
The world is your oyster, and New Orleans is at your fingertips.
Live it up! 504ever


Anonymous, age 17

Anonymous - Message to young NOLA

I know it’s hard, living life.

The expectations society puts on us doesn’t make easy.

We can’t be fat, we have to be skinny, and you won’t have a chance if you aren’t pretty.

Don’t listen to them; keep going strong.

You’re a beautiful person; don’t ever let someone tell you otherwise.

We all love you and don’t want to see you wither away.

So keep fighting. Know that your friends and family are behind you.

Don’t just fight for us, but fight for yourself

Anonymous, age 17

Melissa - Message to young NOLA

A wise woman once said,

“Hate breeds hate,

Fear breeds fear,

And love breeds love.”

Life is too short to waste with unkindness;

Take time to let love grow.

Some people have ulterior motives,

But do not be disheveled by their blindness.

Just be still; and know

A wise man once said,

“That karma

Can turn around and bite you;

And those who you think are friends

Can turn around despite you;”

And though you may think that

Everything that happens in the next four years

Defines who you are and what your life will be

You’re wrong.

Ghandi once said that,

“Everything you do is insignificant,

But it is important that you do it.”

Live your life trying

Because once you stop trying, you stop living

Once you stop living, you start dying

And dying is easy

Giving

All of yourself to everything that you do

Is inexplicably difficult, but will ensure you success

But giving all of yourself to people

Who don’t give all of themselves to you

Is never in your best interest

Melissa, age 17

Lane - Message to young NOLA

Untitled

I never knew you back in your young days

Back when you were my age

When I was a “tween”

When you were so weak

I hear the stories and gasp

Why’d you get into all of that?

I like not knowing that side of you

Never go back

- Lane, age 18

Anonymous - Message to young NOLA

YO

New Orleans. New Orleans Youth.

Swim! Swim until it hurts. Never stop. The current of the mighty Mississippi might
pull you away.

Just keep that head up. Swim for those who might need floaties in this city Swim
for those bright, happy days.

Don’t give up.

Ever.

But seriously, don’t…

- Anonymous

Sam - Message to young NOLA

Live without regret
Live without fear
Live two lives:
one for yourself and one for those who aren’t here to live one themselves

Sam, age 17

Olivia - Message to young NOLA

There is this girl down the street

With cupped hands and an impossibly large mouth

Selling her

“FRESHSWEETLEMONAAADE!”
“FRESHSWEETLEMONAAADE!”

There are two little brothers shaded yellow

With colored fingers and unsteady words

Selling their

Lemonade only 50¢
Lemonade only 50¢

FRESH

Ignorance is bliss?

SWEET

Savor every bit.

LEMONADE

Take it all in.

The sweetness brings me back,
And I thank them for that.

Olivia, age 17

Sydney - Message to young NOLA

Feelings
only get you in trouble
Feel for others more than for yourself
Thoughts
Make them good ones
Think about your actions
Tears
Make your face red
Cry and embrace your new color
Anger
Only wastes time
Be mad in your night mare, realize it was just a dream
Laughter
Leads to smiling
Laugh with everyone not at anyone
Judgements
Cause corruption
Judge not, and you will overcome
Love
Be truthful,
Love is not a fantasy, it can be your reality

Sydney, age 17

Hannah - Message to young NOLA

Stand up for yourself. Don’t let others push you around.
Just be you, it’s always better in the end.

Say what’s on your mind and you’ll be forward bound.
Make your thoughts known; it’s always better in the end.

But don’t only speak when you’re saying what people want to hear.
Don’t be a push-over, it’s always better in the end.

You’ll get through everything you are going through
You’ll make friends to last a lifetime, remember, it’s always better in the end.


Hannah, age 17

Alli - Message to young NOLA

Have fun. You only live once.

Don’t believe everything you hear.

Do what you love.

Most importantly:

“Be real, because a mask only fools people on the outside. Pretending to be someone you're not takes a
toll on the real you, and the real you is more important than anyone else.” (All Time Low)

Alli, age 17

Matty - Message to young NOLA

Dear Friend,

To be young, they say, is to be in your prime

This ambiguous moment, they say, is when poems rhyme, and the sun shines

          "Enjoy your time! Ah, such a wonderful city!  Be young here!"
           But what if you aren't particularly happy as a youth?  What if your burdens weigh you down and      the time is uh, slipping, and falling, and just. Out. Of. Reach. And you wake up and you may not be quite as young as you remember.  Or what if this "prime" isn't like the movies. Maybe you didn't get asked to prom, or you don't party on Saturday like all the other cool cats who seem to be as prime as a good steak. Or maybe you do. So? Who cares? What defines a prime? Does it even exist?

I think it’s what you make of it.

But you know what they say, what they say isn't really credible anyway.

Best,

Friend

(Matty, age 16)

Katie - Message to young NOLA

 Makes me whole?

Hey bay do you want some Gumbo?

        Hmmm….

               I can hear the ingredients simmer in the pot

              The overwhelming taste absorbs my mouth

                   The combinations swarm my tummy

                              Makes me whole

Hey Kates red or white beans tonight?

       Hmmm…

              I can hear my brother yell out “RED!”

                 The amount of beans in the pot is overwhelming

                    Take a bite…dryness. No flavor

                             Makes me whole

Hey Katie Bug do you want spaghetti tonight?

                 Hmmm…

                 The noodles are overflowing from the pot

    Moisture radiates off each surface making my tongue overjoyed with happiness

                Red Sauce on my clean, white polo- nothing new

                                Makes me whole

Yo! Want something to eat?

             Hmmm…

          The bubbling and the searing of the tomato on top of the bread

           Crunch, Crunch, broken down one by one each entering equally

             Small but filling, keep them coming… who wants the last one?

                              Makes me whole

Um do you want me to actually cook?

             Hmmm…

              The macaroni and cheese is baking in the oven

                   Fear runs through the veins- decisions

                    Yum? Luckily, Overpowered with coke

                              Makes me whole

Sincerely,

Katie, age 16

Torre - Message to young NOLA

Living in a world inside a bright young mind
In it lies residence of endless needs and opportunities
Lacking are the moments to look behind
And wander aimlessly about what you have done
In front of you lies the future full of notable deeds
There is the presence of curiosity
Encouraged by a desire for self-recognition
Where we will all develop different cognitions
Some of us see discovery and hope
While others only see misery and feel frustration
This is where our true cognition develops
In the hope of rediscovery
Because in this, ambition is generated
That raises up our thirst
To live day by day
Remembering our true thoughts
As we try to take life’s punches
Hoping that it won’t break our backs

Torre, age 16

Ruthie - Message to young NOLA

Living between deities and diets,
TV tells us all we are is a party and a pastry
They see jazz funerals and cemeteries
And flood waters hitting our homes and they say,
That’s New Orleans!
They say we eat and we drink, and sure sure, we do.
They say we party and we pray, and yeah, of course.
They say we’re Bourbon and we’re Basin, and we say, have you been out of the French Quarter?
They’ve got this spotlight on New Orleans so much they can’t see our natural glow.
They hear the myths but won’t wait to hear our story.
But they’ve got New Orleans in their crosshairs now,
They say, we see you! They say, we’ll come down a few days a year,
Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest, conventions and conversions, they’ll be here.
Thanks for spending your money, your time!
You never left the quarter, but I guess that’s alright…
There’s more to our city then bars and devastation tours,
They won’t see it.
They’ll go home and say, not too different from my town
Sure, sure, yeah, of course.
Keep kidding yourself.

Ruthie, age 16

Amy - Message to young NOLA

To that girl walking the distance to school every morning, hot or cold, rain or shine, arid or dew.
Here's to you.

You make me wish that we still lived in a safer, more peaceful times, when it would not be seen as an
act of terrorism to offer you a ride.
Sometimes I wish I could, but honestly I've never tried.

You make me realize that I am lucky, but just because those polls of people who walk to school always
come out close to 0%, the kind exists in you.
You make me regret living in the murder capital of the world, which makes me worry for you every time
we pass, and that’s true.

You make me wonder, how long is your walk every day and would you take it if you were offered a ride?
Does it make you scared, when cars slow down around you or honk at you, on the inside?

Well here's what I say to you.
Hold your head high and just keep on walking on by.
For you may not realize, but the little things you do,
every day can make a much bigger impact than on even a girl like me, too.

Amy, age 17

Claire - Message to young NOLA

You went to the dome,

And that was your home,

Why would you go there in the first place?

You thought it was safe

This temporary shelter

Except your home is not there

It is the house that is near

To mine.

Then you went to Texas

You didn’t know what was going on

But a friend saw you on the news

At that point you were still moving on.

After our family friend called “hey, I saw Ben”

My mom decided that you were still on

Earth and we were going to see you again.

You arrived at the Lafayette house like nothing was wrong

And my mom cried because she hadn’t seen you in so long.

You continued to act like you had back home,

Eating oatmeal, chocolate and sweet potatoes on time

You didn’t realize the stress that your presence had caused us to overcome.

Katrina didn’t stop Ben,

And his guardian angel didn’t lead him to the end.

Claire,  age 17

Anonymous - Message to young NOLA

Your Lesson

You left us speechless. Confused and so hurt. We wonder why it happened to you. Why you?
Why now? You are such an inspiration. A person so talented. So happy. So full of life. Again and again
we ask ourselves why you had to go. Now, I know why. You came to teach us a lesson. A lesson like no
other. A lesson greatly needed. Your arrival and quick departure taught us to love like no other, take
advantage of every second of everyday, and make an impact. We thank you for that. We ask you to
help us remember your lesson and what you have left us here to think about. We ask you to help us
carry on, but never again, never forget. We ask you to help us realize that our time is short and we need
to take advantage of it. We ask you to help us love. And most of all, we thank you for teaching us, and
we can’t wait until we meet again!

anonymous, age 17

Brooke - Message to young NOLA

i used to know a girl who ran

good. She said

words weird

ball. not cone.

that’s what we call it at home

praw like craw.

pray at church not with leans

that’s what pecan and caramel means.

she ran away

From food

from Words

crawled in.to a shell

and she fell

skinny. awkward for.ei.gner

voice over at the coroner

i used too many words

efficiently to assume I knew her

the girl who stood up

what I meant

was in.tolerant

for the new girl in her shell

i used to know the girl who ran well.

Brooke, age 16

Lizzie - Message to young NOLA

Our City

New Orleans

French Quarter, streetcars, Mardi Gras, and snowballs,

The people of New Orleans seem to really have it all,

Beignets, the Saints, The Mississippi, and more,

Visitors and tourists don’t even know what’s in store,

Jazz Fest, Gumbo, and music from the soul

New Orleanians love their city, true and whole

Nothing will stop us, we are proud to swim home,

Not even with water surrounding the Dome,

There are many different meanings of the Who Dat Nation, or NOLA, too

What does New Orleans mean to you?

Lizzie, age 16

Darby - Message to young NOLA

Never stop,
live life,
exceed expectations,
go beyond limits
set by those who want to govern
you.

You
are America’s future,
Hope
who has power,
enough power to
control your
future.

Future
is success,
there are no other
options,
failure exists
but only if you allow it to
thrive.

Thrive
in your environment,
take what you can
from it,
keep in mind:

Never stop
because You
are the Future,
you must Thrive.

Darby, age 16

Lillie - Message to young NOLA

Season your years with what feels right,
but never forget what the flavor of home means.
         (lavender and dog breath to me)
Forge your own path,
but never speed through the good scenes.
        (Kodak moments are rarely caught on film)
Support everyone who needs you,
But don’t let your own infrastructure succumb.
        (muscle strength has nothing to do with this)
Don’t coast your way through life,
but always remember where you come from.
        (home isn’t where the heart is, but where the mind often wanders)
But most of all,
don’t worry about every rough edge
because the world is round.
        (and about 131,479,713 and a half feet around)

Lillie Martin, 16

Grace - Message to young NOLA

Never let people get you down

Keep on smiling, and never frown

Things always work out in the end

Be yourself, and no one else my friend

Don’t let anyone tell you who to be

Try it out and you will see

Even when push comes to shove

God will be smiling from above

Make time for school and get good grades

Make good memories that will never fade

Keep friends and family close to your heart

And you and your loved ones will never be apart

Grace, age 16

Holly - Message to young NOLA

The Stars

Have you ever been told to aim for the moon because if you fall you’ll land in the stars?
I have.
My parents always say, “Set a farfetched goal for yourself because achieving your goal isn’t as
important as the person it forces you to become.”
This attitude is New Orleans.
New Orleans is a city of dreamers—full of aspiring musicians, artists, and kids who wish to
make something of themselves; kids who are willing do whatever it takes to become the person
they want to be.

I’m telling you to reach for the moon because if you fall, at least you’ll be among the stars.
I’m telling you to:

Challenge yourself.
Strive to be the person you want to be.
Never let anyone tell you that you're not good enough or that you’re not gonna make it.

The only person who can stop you from becoming the person you want to be is yourself.
Don’t let fear stop your dreams.
If you fall short of a dream, see where it brought you and who you’ve become because of it.
Explore your possibilities.
Aim for the moon so you can end up among the stars.

Holly, age 16

Brittany - Message to young NOLA

New Orleans,
also known as The Big Easy
Some natives pronounce it N'awlins
What do you call it?
Some prefer the initials NOLA
I call it my home
How about you?
Amazing food, enjoyable music,
A true family
What do you think?
We are all connected
Intertwined
The Crescent City


Brittany, age 16

Sam - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks, my mind does too. It follows the green rushing by that peaks through the wrought iron gates on my side of St. Charles. Sitting on the gallery with hot bricks on my back, I watch the street car pass.  The passengers aboard with their cameras and large smiles look in from the other side. They see all of us in our plaid. They see our historic school. What they don’t see however is our laughter. We are laughing at them for the touristy things we know they’ll do. They come to the city to ride the “trolley.” They come here to drink hand grenades. They even come here to attend “the Mardi Gras.”  Although we mock their naivety, we secretly thank them for coming. For it’s their presence (and money) that help keep this city going. They ride our “trolleys,” they drink our hand grenades, and they even catch our beads at Mardi Gras. Without them, the city would not be the same. 

Sam, age 17

Alli - Mayfair Lane

Mayfair Lane is my favorite street in New Orleans, although it is located in Kenner. On this street, there is a pink house that once belonged to my Grandparents on my Dad’s side. It’s where my Dad and all his brothers and sisters grew up, and where all my cousins and I grew up. There were countless memories in this house including Christmas, Thanksgiving, and plenty of birthdays. By the time I was born, only my Grandparents and my youngest aunt lived in the house. Even though I did not live here, it always felt like a second home to me, which is why the day that my Grandparents moved to Florida was devastating for everyone. We were leaving our childhood and our memories in the house. My Dad was born in 1962 and only a couple of years later they moved from Honduras to the house on Mayfair Lane. Years and years have been spent at this house which is why I will always remember it. 

Alli, age 16 

Claire - S. Robertson in Uptown and Downtown NOLA

S. Robertson in uptown and downtown New Orleans.


S. Robertson is where I have lived all my life.  This street is home to all of my “Firsts.”  It begins in college and ends in the arena.  It follows me wherever I go in greater New Orleans.  This is my favorite street because I was born on it, I grew up on it, I will go to college on it, and I will work on it.  It will be in my life forever.  This street has seen the best and the worst of New Orleans: beginning of life, death, love, and sadness.  This street has houses that my great grandparents built, and it is where my parents bought their first house.  I have lived in my first and second house both located on this street.   This street saved me from floods, rainstorms.
New Orleans is home to S. Robertson, and S. Robertson is home to me.


Claire, age 17

Madison - Pleasure and Piety

Note: According to the powers that be [Google Earth], the corner of Piety and Pleasure is unofficially a barren wasteland, a deserted corridor of the 9^th Ward all but forgotten. A hurricane of emotions- a broken mess of violence, love, history, and zoning plans gone awry. A veritable symbol of New Orleans.

The guy whose breath reeks of SoCo and cigarettes, with the bleary-eyed, endearing look about him

He stands at the corner of Pleasure and Piety

The sweater set mother who still wears her sorority ring for sentimentality

                  She stands at the corner of Pleasure and Piety

The young girl who flaunts her jean covered curves and her boyfriend who can’t keep his hands off them

                  They stand at the corner of Pleasure and Piety

The city that refuses to give up despite being given numerous reasons to

It stands at the corner of Pleasure and Piety

 At the crossroads of heaven and humanism

 At the intersection of faith and futility

We choose faith.

 Here, where Pleasure is perpendicular to Piety and parallel to Humanity.

Madison, age 17

Melissa - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the streetcar persistently creaks,

The earth around me slightly shutters

Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks

While the streetcar persistently creaks

Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks

As the streetcar persistently creaks

The voices from the open windows mutter

The ground is shaking beneath my feet

The tracks that run along the avenue

Are worn down from years of strain

Around and around; its own tail, it pursues

Electric charge surges through its veins

The voices from the open window mutter

This concrete is worn down from years of strain

With the stories that every crack on the sidewalk stutters

The city is alive all around me; it’s surging through my veins

Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks

The city is alive all around me; it’s surging through my veins

These tracks are worn down, but they show no pain

The ground is shaking beneath my feet

As the streetcar persistently creaks

Melissa, Age 16

Ruthie - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the streetcar creaks,
my brain loops.

My thoughts scatter
like leaves from the track

in the wake of the car
pushing through St Charles.


Ruthie, age 16

Lillie - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the streetcar persistently creaks

                                air twists

                wrrrming by

                                exposing faces through the latched windows.

As the branches hit hit    hit   

                                leaves bend,

                                and veins are crushed for clearing ways.

Benches flow from two to four

                with the passengers

                                leaving and going and leaving and going

                like the tide of A 28-Foot Storm Surge Projected For The New Orleans Area: Evacuation Mandatory.

Picture the streetcar (1835) struggling through chunky fluid

                full of tears and trash and home and bodies and childhood and and and

   the streetcar steadily creaks to a stop.

                The wake sloshing against sides,

                                  receding memories

                                                down

                                                                 the

                                                                           streets

                                                                                         and                

                                                                                                over 
                                                                                               levees.

Lillie, age 16

Darby - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the streetcar persistently creaks
and change is deposited and
passengers scramble,
fearing that without quickness they will fall prey to standing.
They’re lazy
or just tired.

At “Car Stops”,
people stand with beads around their necks,
beneath the sign,
potential passengers,
or rather definite passengers
for regardless of vacancy,
they will push their way into the streetcar,
even if they end up paying $1.25 to stand.

The ones who stand
and grasp poles for support,
stare anxiously at the passengers lucky enough to get a seat
and wait for the creaking streetcar to come to a stop,
praying that with that stop
more passengers will get off
and they can fill their warm seats.

At its final stop,
everyone is forced to get off
and for this time of year expend some energy
and walk the rest of the way.

At this time of year,
the stop is much sooner
an inconvenience that everyone deals with
because of the nonstop partying,
making up for the walking.

For now,
the streetcar stops just before Napoleon,
and for those who know it,
in front of the Mater Campus,
an almost pointless addition
to an already large school.

After this stop,
streetcars cannot go any farther,
not with people filling in every hole they can possibly find
on the neutral ground.

The streetcar tracks are no longer a method of transportation,
but rather a place for
latters,
chairs,
and human bodies
sometimes police horses.

On the final day of the partying,
a man walks toward his car,
there he sees people he deems familiar.
Two of the three,
drunk.

As he passes,
he notices the woman,
around 60,
has taken on the age of 4.
In her current state,
walking has become some sort of an enigma
and her vest has become troublesome.
She mastered zipping it,
however she failed at putting her arms in the holes
and because of this failure it has ended up around her ankles,
confusing her,
crippling her.
Walking is impossible.

As he passes,
he notices the man,
60, 70, or somewhere around there,
forgetting reality
and entering Sazorackia,
a land invented two years ago,
by a somewhat drunk father and uncle.
He notices the creaking streetcar as it passes
and kindly offers toasts to its many passengers.
He toasts Sazorackia,
realizing its greatness
and succumbing to the ways of the Sazorack in his hand.

The man laughs,
along with the passengers,
who have crammed themselves into this streetcar,
left without room to breathe
much less move.
To them,
this was better than walking.

The man laughs too,
also at the passengers,
he will reach his car
before many of them reach their stops.
This makes him feel better,
for in his mind this is winning.
Because he beats them to his car,
a victory has been achieved
no matter how silly it may seem to every other outside party.

Finally,
the streetcar reaches its den,
another party season through.
Tomorrow it will resume its regular route,
and take back its claimed neutral ground.
 And creaking resumed. 

Darby, age 16

Matty - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks in the distance, I lay at the car
stop, back pack under head, book held loosely in my and all the while
the starts have blanketed the South.

        Easy to wait, waiting for fate? For a ride, for a light, for a
night? For things that rhyme?

       Cement that crunches beneath me under my shoes, but above the
sweet grass.

       Tall am I against the traffic, but puny compared to the electric
bus that is rolling on.


Matty, age 16

Brooke - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks
                 I sweat streetcar tokens
                          Backpack. Laptop. Cord.
                                 Wet dew and grass crawl up my
                                          legs
                                                 Residue from my sprint
                                                                          Five minutes
                                                                                     “Why can’t he just leave his keys in the door?”
                                                                           As grass stains bleed through the white
                                                                  Overpriced
                                                            Socks
                                          We tunnel through oaks
                          Smushed against strangers
           “Hey ladies, how do you…”
                                                                                                     Lurch   
Three minutes
                    As a salmon colored runner
                               Competes with crunching gears
                                                           Wheels. Industry.
                                                                           The basilisk of St. Charles ferries children to school
                                                                                       One minute
                                                                                               Gates! Cupola! We have made
                                                                      it to the Promised Land.
                                                              Imhereprettypleasedontgivemeamark.

Brooke, age 16

Lizzie - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the streetcar persistently creaks

The loose, wooden benches crackle, rattling back and forth

People sit, staring out at the tall, oak trees covered in Mardi Gras beads

No telling where they’re going, who they’re going to see

Some have destinations, others don’t; they are simply are along for the ride, a roaring view of the city

When it passes by, the ground rumbles, and comes alive,

Hearing the familiar sounds of wheels screeching as it hits the metal tracks,

Seeing the spark that it makes when the car comes to a halt,

Makes me feel at home 

 Lizzie, age 16

Holly - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks,
Days turn into weeks.
All the tourists stall,
To watch the Autumn leaves fall.
As the street car persistently creaks.
As the street car persistently creaks,
The kids begin to sneak
To see what Saint Nick brought
Since none of them have fought.
As the street car persistently creaks.
As the street car persistently creaks,
New Orleans sees its Mardi Gras freaks.
All those who say yall, dawlin’, and where yat,
Are brought together under King Rex’s hat.
As the street car persistently creak.

As the street car persistently creaks,
Everyone begins to speak.
Children begin to play,
And the summer day starts to fade away.
As the street car persistently creaks.

Holly, age 16

Brittany - As the streetcar perisistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks,
Tourists ride on,
Runners jog by,
Children ride their bikes,
Elderly walk by,
Children play on playgrounds,
 Families eat dinner,
Colleagues have a lunch meeting,
Track teams practice,
And the street car persistently creaks,
As Saint Charles unites…

Brittany, age 16

Torre - As the streetcar perisistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks

I look out in the heat

At all of the oak and magnolia trees

As the Victorian houses pass by

I close my eyes as I feel the easy ride

Down narrow streets of St. Charles

A story is created

Where you can envision the souls of yesterday

Living in music and food

That rises from the bumps and cracks on the streets

The souls of yesterday

Spinning their umbrellas

While they sing and dance from Uptown to Mid City

Next to the streetcars rumbling around the ''neutral ground''

Nothing can overturn the spirits

Of our ancestors

Time nor disaster could diminish this story

When yesterday hangs on to forever

As the street car persistently creaks

Torre, age 16

Katie - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks…
The sun’s just beginning to rise on up.
People begin to get out of bed
and try to shake off that morning frump.
It yells “I’m comin get ready. Rise In Shine,”
and people begin to wait at that small yellow sign.
The morning rush starts with a flash
as all of the people start to whip out their cash.
Run faster, Run Faster there is plenty to do.
 Folks are waitin and its only 7:32.
It sees people running,
 dogs walking,
and cars going on driving.
Some wave,
 but the brave try to pass through quick
for the streetcar’s coming and they can’t afford to stick.
The Morning has ended, and the Afternoon begins.
It still rolls around lending rides to friends.
It sees passed out frat boys lying on St. Charles,
who are hungover and beat up from their bar night brawls.
It sees the closed down Sanger,
that is forgotten and old.
It sees the people on the street left out in the cold.
Kids come home from school and parents from work.
In the last hours of the night, it is only the lights and the street car that lurk.
It begins to think about what it has seen in this city.
It has seen snow fall on Christmas day that makes the ugliest building pretty.
It has seen girls gather and sing to say goodbye in the park.
It has seen 6th graders at the JCC excited to be out after dark.
It has smelled the cooking coming from Camellia.
It has heard “Hey throw me something Mistah”. 
It drives back to the station and parks itself with its friends.
It has had another great day in New Orleans.

Katie, age 16

Grace - Favorite Street

Bourbon Street in New Orleans
All the bars and different scenes
All the people that I see
Like to come and dance with me
All the people stumble around
There are so many things to be found
There is music and fantastic lights
Come to bourbon for crazy nights
Although you must be older than 21
All ages can have some fun
Musicians play their funky beat
They make me want to move my feet
Bourbon Street is very neat
But be careful of who you meet

Grace, age 16

Courtney - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

as the streetcar persistently creaks, i wonder who the people riding in
this machine are
rolling down St. Charles, i stare at the familiar Victorian style
houses,
but this is not what catches my eye...

it is the man sitting diagonally across from me yelling into his phone,
or the young women studiously memorizing a text book before we stop at
Loyola, or the young elementary school girl fixing her hair in the
reflection of the window...who catch my attention

all mysterious characters who i know nothing about, yet i am so close to
it is these people who make the street car rides more unique each time i
round that corner step
it is these people for who the streetcar persistently creaks

Courtney, age 16

Sydney - As the streetcar persistently creaks...

As the street car persistently creaks,
my feet begin tapping
Flinch, flinch, tap, tap
As the baby cries in the front seat,
My ears begin echoing
Buzz, buzz, cry, cry
As the door opens for the streetcar,
My nose becomes colder
Sniff, sniff, rub, rub
As we pass camellia grill on Carrollton,
My stomach becomes louder
Rawr, rawr, growl, growl
As Mardi Gras approaches,
My thoughts begin to take hold of me
Beads, beads, mess, mess
As I walk towards the parade,
My hands begin swaying,
Rhythm, rhythm, clap, clap
As I encounter a drunk crowd,
My eyes pretend to look the other way,
No, No, laugh, laugh
As the nighttime approaches,
My body begins dancing,
Jump, jump, side, side
As the floats light up the sky,
My heart begins pounding,
Boom, Boom, Mardi Gras, Mardi Gras

Sydney, age 17

Sam - At Night...

Nighttime in New Orleans is like a surprise compared to what is visible during light hours. During the day, things can seem a little empty or barren without the floods of people, but at night everything seems that much livelier. Whether it’s because the plastic legs are swinging above the door in a French Quarter club or because everyone seems to spill out into the streets in almost every neighborhood, the darkness never actually seems that dark. Although we may not see the stars in the sky with all of the city lights, New Orleans replaces that feeling with the warm glow of strangers and familiar faces. The city becomes loud in all parts from these people. And it’s not just the typical noise expected from such a musically talented city, but from the many voices from the wide variety of people surrounding you. There’s even a soft hum of the songs and screams from a city that’s wide awake while you turn your own light off and slip into bed.


Same, age 17 

Amy - Characters

A little place called New Orleans; where the

Best of

Characters come out when least expected.

Down in the markets, on the streets,

Everywhere you would least expect it.

For these such people we are

Given the title "Southern

Hospitality."

It's not something you can

Just learn. It’s a way of life, a special

Kind of people who are bonded together and have

Lived together through the thick and thin, hurricanes,

May floods, and much worse. The best people in

New

Orleans would never desert their home without

Putting up

Quite the fight.

Relocate? We'd tell the haters we would rather

Swim home

Than give up our home.

Until that time again, we

Voluntarily put up all the hassle of evacuation

Which makes us all into the unique

X-static people that the rest of the world should

Zealously long to be. 

Amy, age 16

Hannah - Nighttime in NOLA

Down in New Orleans there’s a party every night.
Whether it’s Monday or Friday people are out on the town seeing the sights.
The restaurants are filled and the clubs are packed,
From uptown to downtown music is heard and that’s a fact.
The weekends are when the festivals start,
The bands and the food are off the charts.
Jazz and jambalaya fill the air,
It seems as though no one has any cares.

Hannah, age 17

Courtney - Nightime in NOLA

New Orleans has a special energy that truly comes alive at night time. The people, the food, and the fun change from day to night and become completely new. In other places, apart from New Orleans, night time might be a time to rest, where the city stops to go to sleep. But in New Orleans, the real party and fun starts when the sun goes down. The city is never quiet and there is never a lapse in laughter, music, or happiness. The party never stops in our city. Every night is a celebration, and there is never a reason not to be in a good mood. It is said that New York is the city that never sleeps, but I think this is also true of New Orleans. The city comes alive at night and this is what I love most about it. Everything in New Orleans changes when the day turns to night, and it all becomes more fun. The streets are filled with crazy people at all hours of the night. There is always something to do between the music, the festivals, the food, and the nightlife. Night time in New Orleans is so unique and special, and it is unlike any other place in the world.

Courtney, age 17

Lillie - Nighttime in NOLA

New Orleans nighttime smells like stagnant water and cigarettes.
It has the gritty feel of aged plastic beads, hanging on the trees,
the ones that never fall.
The light never fully recoils, leaving sanguinity in the sky, but despair is in the soil.
Those who crawl come out, multiplying hastily, and blood is drawn.
The ones that never stand again.
The New Orleans night,
it isn’t concrete and streetlights.
It is the fight,
the build,
 the battle,
 and then the recovery.
It is New Orleans past mourning,
and after the darkness


- Lillie, age 16

Matty - Characters...

*Formatting inspired by E.E. Cummings*

The best character I ever saw in New Orleans
A story of confusion

He was a bearded man, dreadlocks flapping in the wind.

On a bike
       Missing one handlebar
And a seat cushion

Cradling a broken vacuum cleaner in his arms,
       Snuggling the dead machine to his face and into his tattered clothes

Whistling a song  (it was easy considering he had just the right amount of teeth…3)

            Yes, this man was the best character
                            I ever saw.



Matty, age 16

Lizzie - Nighttime in NOLA

There are two different sides to New Orleans at night

It can be peaceful, and it can be chaotic

Sitting on the porch, when the humidity has finally left the air,

Or partying in the French Quarter, having the time of your life

Listening to the locusts singing their daily evening song,

Or listening to the buzz of busy people, and the local street performers

Smelling the smells of nature,

Or smelling the smells of alcohol, and cheap, plastic beads

Relaxing, refreshing, a great way to end the long day,

Or exciting, invigorating, it’s only the beginning of a fun, eventful evening

Whether you’re rocking serenely in your rocking chair,

Or partying like there’s no tomorrow

There’s never a dull moment in New Orleans

Lizzie, age 16

Brittany - Nighttime in NOLA

In many places, nighttime is quiet and peaceful, when everyone heads
inside to sleep for the night. Night time in New Orleans is very
different from other places. It is usually not peaceful, it is actually
very alive. Many people might compare it to other big cities during the
night, when it can sometimes relate, it has some unique qualities.  It
is never empty, always full of people. It is also full of people talking
and music playing in the distance.  If near the river, a person can
sometimes hear the horns and noise from the several boats traveling it.
Also in New Orleans, if you travel just right out of downtown, a person
can hear the chirps from crickets and sounds of the night. New Orleans
has a diverse nightlife, from nature sounds, to sounds created from
people going about in their night.


Brittany, age 16