Port Reduction.......a waste of wine?
Volume 7 | April 17th, 2006 |  ....still dancing in the streets

Wednesday at the Square Returns to Downtown
Dancers at Wednesday at the Square

Music, food, and fun are welcomed back on Wednesdays in the CBD

The Downtown Development District (DDD) and the Young Leadership Council (YLC) have announced the return of Wednesday at the Square, a free 12-week concert series in beautiful Lafayette Square on St. Charles Avenue across from Gallier Hall. The seventh annual Wednesday at the Square concert series will be held Wednesdays, April 5 through June 21, from 5:00 p.m. until 7:30 p.m. Wednesday at the Square will feature the same arrangement as in previous years with one main music stage, food from many of New Orleans' famous restaurants, an artist's village featuring local artistic talent, and a children's area.

For more information, visit www.wednesdayatthesquare.com

The concert schedule is as follows:

April 12: Nathan and the Zydeco Cha Chas, Lil' Nathan.
April 19: Theresa Andersson Group, Ghost Town.
April 26: BeauSoleil, Amanda Shaw and the Cute Guys.
May 3: Marcia Ball, Washboard Chaz Blues Trio.
May 10: The Radiators, Beatin Path.
May 17: The Iguanas, Yeah You Right.
May 24: Anders Osborne, Storyville Stompers Brass Band.
May 31: Cowboy Mouth, Kipori Woods.
June 7: Subdudes, Jim McCormick.
June 14: Sonny Landreth, Robert Fortune Band.
June 21: The Chee Weez

Home
“House On Burgundy” by Karla Gilson Hunt
painting by Karla Gilson Hunt

IT caught me totally unaware. Even after weeks of listening to Eric Paulsen and Sally Ann Roberts interviewing head specialists, warning of the delayed appearance of depression, I still didn't see it coming. I hadn't cried since living in Lafayette, and after all, here I was, ensconced in a new neighborhood that Pat and I had always talked about moving to. We were in a house that met all of our needs and more. I had spent months filling the empty rooms with furniture and pictures. I had even rescued favorite pieces of pottery from Milne that I managed to sprinkle around the new place so that I could give myself the illusion of continuity from old to new - to what was, and now, what was to be. And it really worked for awhile. I had, rather unknowingly I must admit, tricked myself into believing that I had pulled it off. We had been so fortunate to find this “perfect” house, to avoid the waiting game - to raise or raze. We had bravely moved on, embraced our new life, and learned the names of all of our new neighbors. No longer would I worry about our slab house being so far below the SFE, I think that's Standard Flood Elevation (part of our new vocabulary). My cracked patio could now continue to sink without one bit of worry from me. If those persistent termites wanted to chew on my wood one more time, I'd set the table for them.

And then, just yesterday exactly seven months and twelve days after The Thing (thank you Chris Rose), I wanted to go home. I wanted my slightly less than perfect house back. I wanted my old neighbors to be on either side of my home and I wanted to see the newly blooming crape myrtles running gloriously down the Milne neutral ground. I wanted St. Dominic to have pews and not folding chairs and I wanted to see those pews filled, like they used to be, with people living their lives like they always had. I was tired of riding around broken neighborhoods all over this city. I was tired of the politicians promising everything when I knew that not one of them would be able to deliver on their promises.

Maybe it has something to do with spring - the whole rebirth thing. Maybe there just weren't enough azalea bushes to get me going, to offer me promise, to signal normalcy. Because that's what home is - that deep down inside-of-you, everyday normalcy. It's the composite of your memories and your dreams, your sanctuary. It's the structure that takes a lifetime to build, not just seven months and twelve days.

And so I allowed myself to grieve, to face its ugly countenance, to recognize the continuing power The Thing still has over us. But, tomorrow is a new day. And we must go about the business of redefining what home is and where it will be for all of us. We keep telling ourselves it's going to be okay and I know it will be. Maybe what I need to do is hang a little sign that says “Home is Where the Heart Is,” and let that work its magic while we get busy with the task of making this new house our home.

- Elaine Gootee

Teaching on Canal Street

Below is an excerpt of a film transcript for a new oral history project by New Orleans writer Kevin McCaffrey. On Sunday, March 25th 2006, McCaffrey is interviewing Laurie Mayer, a schoolteacher in New Orleans. At this point in the interview, McCaffrey queried whether or not anything positive has resulted from the storm.

Laurie Mayer: I think a wonderful thing that has come out of it for me is that I am teaching post Katrina children who have been through a lot of devastation and sadness in their lives. (tears up) I am working with them everyday, teaching them. And they are teaching me wonderful things. They are wonderful kids, and this is the future of New Orleans. And I am so happy to be a part of this. And I take this very seriously. I think it is an important job, but I also love what I am doing. I feel like these kids are what's going to be up there next. It's very important. I'm at a Catholic school in New Orleans.

Kevin McCaffery: What school?

LM: St. Anthony of Padua on Canal Street which was devastated. The principal worked very hard to get the school back. We're at half capacity... the whole area is devastated. There is nobody living in the neighborhood, but the kids come every day. We're teaching them in the most normal possible way we can. We're having a fair, doing all the fun things that schools do. And it feels good to me that I am a part of rebuilding because I am rebuilding the children of New Orleans and I think that is a very special and important thing to do. I am very honored to do it.

KM: I think the reopening of the schools, and the questions around that, and the questions of race, etc., economics and all, are going to be, we think, if you watch the schools, the report card of the health of the city as it rebuild. As far as you say you're at half capacity. What is the mix? Is it the same kids? Is it different kids? What is the mix, racial mix compared to, religious mix even, you're a catholic school...

LM: Right, we're a Catholic school. In my class, of which I can speak for sure, ninety percent are old St. Anthony students. The other ten percent, maybe not quite that much, maybe more like ninety-six or ninety-four percent, most of them are St. Anthony. We are taking in other students. Other schools, I think like Resurrection in New Orleans East and there are a couple of schools that haven't reopened and they're coming to us. One or two public school kids, but mostly Catholic schools. We're not turning anybody away. We're accepting everybody. The mix is a beautiful mix. Black, Hispanic, and white, and that's what I liked about St. Anthony before I even got there. It's just so cultural. Middle class, some poor, some upper class, mostly middle class, working parents very much involved with their kids, or as much as they can be now because they are mostly working on their homes and jobs. The kids are beautiful, wonderful kids who want to learn and want to be in a normal school situation.

KM: Is there extra counseling for them?

LM: We have a counselor, yes, I'm not sure if they're extra or not. Most of the teachers there, I was very lucky, most of the teachers there have no homes. They came back to school and teaching kids and working on their homes. This is very admirable. I'm lucky: I don't have to do that. The atmosphere is so warm and loving that there is counseling going on all the time. It's not like we're pulling kids out to counsel them. It's just listening to their stories, being there, hearing them... empathizing. When they are hearing each other's stories, I think helps them. And some are in better situations than others, but just the fact that they're back together with their friends I think is a tremendous plus for them.

KM: It's important to have community.

LM: Pardon?

KM: Important to have a sense of community...

Jan: And a sense of normalcy...

LM: Yes, it's definitely creating a sense of normalcy and community... we're having a fair... so it's definitely a very community spirited minded endeavor for the school.

KM: Would you say that the kids are more open to experience and different cultures?

LM: I think they were very culturally diverse already, so that's nothing new to them.

KM: How do you teach them to deal with devastation... the physical environment?

LM: They know they are comfortable where they are, they're very secure. We talk about it through their stories. We write a lot of stories; we do a lot of art work. I am not a psychologist but I feel like this helps them.. I had this one little boy.. we were talking about thank you notes... we had to write a thank you note, and his was not a thank you note. It was a Katrina note. And it was very sad. But, he got his feelings out and it was wonderful that he was able to express how he felt about it. Because he had some very angry things to say. And very sad things to say about his family, but he put it on paper.

KM: Can you tell me the specifics, you think?

LM: Let's see. We had to write a thank you note. And he said, “Katrina, why were you so terrible to me and my family? Why did you come and do this. I'm not living where I want to be living. And I hate you.” It was a little short note. Kind of basically what he said. “Why did you do this to me?”

KM: Just out of curiosity, what culture was he from?

LM: African American.

KM: It sounds like it wasn't something... He wasn't repeating his parent?

LM: Absolutely not. No. We've actually... the principal of the school... there have been so many communities around the United States that have helped our school in particular...so, our task over the last couple of months, the kids have tried to write thank you notes to fifty or sixty different schools. What we did, we got, my class and every class...tell us about your Katrina experience... we sent the written experience to each community in a group letter...so two months ago, every student wrote their Katrina experience...“I went to this school...I went to that school...I stayed with my grandma...I stayed with my aunt”...so they all wrote down their Katrina evacuation experience and then we'd attach a thank you note. “Thank you for thinking about us, this was my experience...” Some were evacuated for months and months and months and were in shelters, some were in different schools, and I think that has an effect on them. Many of them were safe, just different. They came back to their homes, many of the homes devastated. Some of them weren't. The ones who were not devastated, recognized that they were very lucky, compared to their friend who wasn't. The ones who were living in a trailer, it's very interesting...they're accepting it...one little boy has four brothers and sisters, five kids, two parents, in one FEMA trailer, living there month after month after month.

KM: In front of their devastated home?

LM: No, they worked for Ursuline, so they are at Ursuline campus...they house them...but it's seven people. I've been in a FEMA trailer and they are very tiny. And he comes to school happy every day. Which is kind of neat. I think he has good support at the school and with his family. I think his family is very supportive.