Do you know what it means?

Photo Credit: Jamie Wasowski.

By: Maureen Wilson

Last fall, when J.C. sent out an e-mail about the possibility of a McCormick mission trip to New Orleans, I, a notoriously terrible e-mailer, responded in record time with an enthusiastic “I’m in!” 

Now, I would like to tell you that I based this decision on noblest of intentions, intentions to serve God and others, and with the selflessness and passion for justice found only in the purest of hearts . . . but that would be an enormous lie.

The truth is, I love the city of New Orleans and given the opportunity, I will take any excuse to go back to the city where I once lived.  Did I go to serve and learn in a community outside of my Chicago Hyde Park bubble? Of course! Do I feel a passion for justice and committed solidarity to a city where Dr. Braxtons “scarology” is written on the land, hearts and minds of those who live there? Absolutely! Do I go with the most innocent of hearts? Well . . . moving on.

For me, the city of New Orleans is a mystery and a passion.  Having spent a short amount of time living there right before coming to McCormick, I have come to the conclusion that I was there just long enough to get hooked, but not long enough to figure the city out (an endeavor that may at least a lifetime).  It is a city where your chances of falling in love or getting in a brawl are about 50/50. It is a city that somehow manages to embody both the sensual and sacred seamlessly.

One of the houses in the ninth ward damaged by Hurricane Katrina.
Photo Credit: Kristin Riegel.

As many of us remember, in 2005 Hurricane Katrina rocked the Gulf Coast.  The majority of the city of New Orleans, as well as the surrounding areas, were either underwater or suffered extreme water and wind damage.  Having to leave the city, many residents left their homes and possessions to relocate around the country.

During this time “Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans?,” a classic Eddie Delange and Louis Alter song, came to resonate with people experiencing the physical and emotional exile from their beloved New Orleans. The song embodies a sense of the devastating heartache that can be felt without ever having been to the city.

I moved to New Orleans and lived in a house with some friends in the fall of 2010, after hitting an emotional and spiritually numbing wall back home in Indiana.  When people asked why I was moving, I made it sound adventurous and free-spirited, that I was just cool that way, and wasn’t afraid to take risks.  Looking back I’m pretty sure I went because I had no life plan, no sense of direction and  no place better to be. Working in malls and restaurants, living off of gas station chicken and Miller High Life (don’t judge me, you know you love it) and running around the city with a group of charismatic rogues and ramblers, I fell in love with the city while slowing learning to reconnect and more genuinely understand my own faith and self-identity.

A view of New Orleans from a bridge near the Ninth Ward.
Photo Credit: Kristin Riegel.

There are times in life, when our own sense of identity and faith are rocked by the storms of life.  It is in these times that the water level sometimes gets too high and once the water recedes, the destruction and devastation left behind is overwhelming.  At some point or another, I believe that we all know what it means to miss New Orleans, to feel heartbroken, lost, alone, disappointed, angry and unsure if we will ever be able to re-build or be fully healed. 

Going back to New Orleans is always powerful for me.  It is a reminder of the possibly and hope in healing.  Even when I first arrived in 2010, New Orleans was already more than the storm, though still not quite fully mended.  Over the years the city has continued to recover and flourish, regaining its joy and sense of identity.  I am incredibly thankful for the opportunity to spend time in the city with McCormick students and staff, working to help rebuild and heal the city that helped to rebuild and heal me.