DukeEngage | Duke Center for Civic Engagement

Blame my friends.agirlnamedabby.blogspot.com

Today I heard that when Walt Disney World was conceptualized, one of the possible locations for its development was New Orleans. Then all the corrupt politicians got involved and wanted a piece of the pie (welcome to Louisiana), so it ended up in Florida.

But it got me thinking. What if Disney World was in New Orleans?

If Disney World was in New Orleans,

1) The school systems would be better. The schools of New Orleans have been in the process of “reform” for twenty years, and this progress suffered a severe setback after Katrina. Do you think that a Walt Disney resort would allow the schools in its area to deteriorate? Of course not – those are the schools that the children of its workers would attend. The Disney Corporation has enough money to invest in school systems and to invest in the possibility that several students would grow up to work at Disney World.

2) Tourism would explode. The city is already a hot spot for tourists, but they are the older tourists who like to shuffle around the historic buildings or the young, childless tourists who drink themselves into oblivion on Bourbon Street. Disney Resorts attract families, which facilitate bunches of hotels and car rental places, which stimulate the economy and employment levels.

3) The roads would actually be traversable. No Disney resort would allow itself to be surrounded by the dirt paths that the city of New Orleans calls “paved roads”. A Disney World would demand a better infrastructure for all the tourists driving to New Orleans, and the Disney Corporation has the money to bribe politicians. (Welcome to Louisiana again.)

4) Help would have gotten to New Orleans faster after Hurricane Katrina.

5) Recovery / revitalization of post-Katrina New Orleans would have happened much quicker.

6) Mardi Gras would consist of less drunken rioting and nudity and more “family-fun” activities; perhaps a carousel would find its way onto Bourbon Street. (I still think a carousel is a good idea for Mardi Gras, regardless of whether or not Disney World is located here.)

7) The employment opportunities would bring lots more people back to New Orleans.

If you can think of anything else that would have changed as a result of a Disney Universe New Orleans, please post it on this blog. It’s interesting to note what would have happened after Katrina had New Orleans been a little less ethnic and a bit more commercial.

No matter where I go, Duke lacrosse follows me.

When I announced that I would be attending Duke in my senior year of high school, the standard reply was, “Well, don’t date any of those lacrosse players! Heh heh heh!”

I’ve heard this (and similar comments) so many times that I thought I had become used to giving my automatic answer – a shrug and a forced smile.

But I think it’s time that I stop shrugging and start talking.

Last Thursday, a friend and I were coming back from the gym and a rousing game of basketball. An older man (a sickly, bad-natured fellow) joined us in the elevator, where he began scrutinizing my friend, who is a very cute girl. But then he commented on her t-shirt: “Duke lacrosse? That’s a dangerous shirt to be wearing.”

She smiled politely and said, “Proven innocent.”

The disagreeable man sniffed and said, “Yes, but not proven innocent of having black female prostitutes at a party.”

At this point, I should have spoken. I should have ranted. I should have made those last moments in the elevator extremely uncomfortable for him. I should have said what was on my mind: “What difference does it make whether the strippers were black or white? They weren't prostitutes, so why are you calling them that? Why do you care about Duke lacrosse? Why couldn’t you have kept your extremely inept opinions to yourself? Why did you buy into all the media hype? Why do you continue to perpetuate a false accusation that ruined the sports careers and college experiences of several boys? Why don’t you go throw yourself into Lake Pontchartrain?”

Instead of saying this, I shrugged and forced a smile while he left the elevator.

Unfair media coverage convicted the players when evidence couldn’t, and members of the media who look back on that runaway train of a story can recall mistakes they made in the coverage (for the article describing the New York Times’ coverage of the lacrosse case, click here – the ombudsman for the NY Times wrote a very good article about the lax case coverage, even though I don’t agree with some of his points).

What I’m trying to say is that the Duke lacrosse team deserves a fair chance to get back the season they lost to an untrue accusation and unfair media coverage. (Honestly, the New York Times ran a front page article about the accusations instead of relegating the story to the sports page – and then every other newspaper followed suit). They don’t deserve the comments that some white supremacist made in an elevator on Loyola campus in New Orleans – and the next time I see him, I intend to tell him that.

No more shrugging and smiling.

This week I discovered that the generation gap affects the young and old all across the country, not just in my home in North Carolina.

On Friday, I visited one of Providence’s properties – St. Ann’s, a church that has been renovated into apartments for elderly people. (It is NOT an old folks’ home, the residents vehemently assured me.) The manager of St. Ann’s spent some of the meeting playing “Name That Tune” with the residents.

The strains of Marvin Gaye came on the radio.
“Let’s Get It On!” shouted one resident.
Nat King Cole.
“Unforgettable!” said another.
Temptations.
“Ain’t Too Proud To Beg!” said several ladies.
“Let’s see if any of you can identify this song from MY generation. You get extra points if you can do the dance!” said the manager.
Soulja Boy’s “Crank That” came on the radio.
Silence.
Blank stares.
Then one resident hesitantly: “YMCA?”

(I am glad to note that these problems plague people other than my dad. Happy Father’s Day, Dad!)

While I was at the same meeting, I had a long conversation with one lady while the birthday cake was being passed around. She told me her Katrina story – how her husband of 31 years died right before Katrina, how she endured at the Superdome, and how she lived in a Texas gym for over 20 days. After she finished describing her experiences to me, she sat back and thought for a moment, then said, “you know, I never lost my faith in God – not one day.”

And that is one thing that has surprised me about New Orleans. The people that I work with – the former residents of Lafitte and the people living in St Ann’s – have an abiding faith in God. Some found their faith during Katrina, some continued praying through the horrors of Katrina, and some have just recently found faith in God after three years of living in a bad situation.

I am humbled by the great faith that these people have shown through their daily activities, and I appreciate the fact that every answering machine message ends with: “Have a blessed day.” Whenever I describe bad dreams or difficult situations, every person exhorts me to pray.

I expected to help the people of New Orleans, but I find that they are helping me.

There are no rules governing the behavior of males in Louisiana. My Duke friends and I have been told in four different languages that we are “the most beautiful girls in the world,” which I really don’t think is possible when a person begins sweating the moment she steps outside. (But a New Orleans native told our DukeEngage group that Southern women don’t sweat – they “glisten” or “glow”. I must not be Southern.)

Sweating on the way to work is my favorite part of the day. Three of my fellow DukeEngage students work at Providence Community Housing with me – in the morning, we get up extra early and ride an open-air streetcar (which is why I don’t fix my hair anymore) before transferring to a bus. Every morning is an adventure – last Friday, we missed our bus and had to call and beg our supervisor to pick us up.

Being at work is also an adventure. Providence rebuilds and revitalizes communities – I work in the community outreach department of Providence, which requires constant contact with former residents of devastated areas. Specifically, I am working with the former residents of Lafitte, a community which is being demolished and which Providence will rebuild this fall.

Working at Providence has given me the opportunity to work with people one-on-one. Former Lafitte residents have told me their Hurricane Katrina and post-Katrina stories, many of which involve confusing encounters with FEMA and HUD (Housing and Urban Development), housing vouchers and relocation. I heard a story of a coworker who was nine months pregnant when Katrina hit – she had her “Katrina baby” in an unfamiliar hospital in Texas.

I have spoken to the people affected by Katrina – I have eaten crawfish with gusto – I have sampled as many forms of food as possible – I have dabbled my hands in Lake Pontchartrain – I have seen the Lower Ninth Ward and the repaired levees – I have flirted with the bassist in a jazz band – I love the people at Providence – I have fallen in love with New Orleans – most of all, I want to make a difference in the small amount of time I have here.
I also want to eat “po-boys” every meal for the rest of my life (which might be possible if I continue to cultivate my blossoming friendship with the poboy sandwich artist at the Louisiana Super-Saver gas station).