You know, sometimes I think we're only here, in this crazy love affair we call "life," to find our way home.
Not just that place we go to bed each night. But that space where we belong. Where we can be ourselves. Where we can live our truth.
It’s not always an easy journey. Just ask Miles.
He’s a man I met early one June morning at a corner store in Tremé. Both of us were hungry — he for pancakes, me for a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich. As we waited for the cook to work his magic, we did what you do in New Orleans. We started talking.
NolaVie's Brett Will Taylor delivers his biweekly commentary on the various meanings of 'being nice' in New Orleans.
“When did you become so nice?”
That’s what a Boston friend asked me last week while in New Orleans for a visit. We were driving down North Robertson when the car in front of us came to a stop smack dab in the middle of the street. The man driving the car had stopped in order to have a conversation with a woman who was sitting on her stoop. It was quite clear this conversation was going to occur without the woman leaving her stoop. Or the man leaving his car. Which was now not stopped, but parked, in front of mine.
About 100 golfers converged last week in Delhi, La., to play in a charity tournament raining money for a new nonprofit organization that aims to promote Poverty Point State Historic Site. Poverty Point, near Epps, is in the running to become a World Heritage site. Commentator Gary Joiner profiles its historic mounds.
Most of my academic life I’ve questioned how schools impact settlers’ integration into communities: How do people become members of society? How do recalcitrant gatekeepers become welcoming neighbors? These questions have moved me literally and figuratively around the world. Nine years ago, those questions carried me to New Orleans and helped transform me into a New Orleanian. Until recently, I haven’t spent much time considering what full-fledged community members go through when they voluntarily leave their homes. That is until I decided to take a job in another state.