New Orleans, Un-jaded, Undaunted

New Orleans, Un-Jaded, Undaunted

John Paul Derryberry

New Orleans is far from perfect. This fact is what makes The Big Easy absolutely perfect. Better and more talented writers and poets have captured the essence of this magical and mysterious place. I won't dare attempt to describe this place I fell in love with during five visits. I will tell you it remains undaunted in its pursuit of embracing all of life. From tragedy to celebration, no place mixes the suffering, joy, and everything in between that life brings. Even 20 years after Katrina, there is still music in the streets blocking traffic; I know because I was on Frenchman Street this past Tuesday night blocking traffic while a brass band lit up the night with a groove. New Orleans remains rebellious, never becoming jaded by life.

My first trip was when I was a single, semi-wayward young man of 24 or 25, to now a decade into being a married father of two daughters, from a front-line staff barely holding on to what it means to be in social work to an agency leader attempting to change how social work is done. Through various visits, the city has never disappointed in reminding us that rebelling against falling into the mundane is the most important thing we can do. Its soul remains intact through its imperfections and the city's collective effort to acknowledge them. It is a lesson we can all use more of.

Whether it's the people gazing on Bourbon Street or how cool you feel sitting in Pat O'Brien's outdoor garden, hoping the hurricane you're drinking doesn't hit you too hard. Whether making your way to Laffitte's Blacksmith Bar, drinking by candlelight, or taking in Jazz at the Spotted Cat. It's sampling food outside your comfort zone, or you may find yourself in the Cats Meow doing karaoke to Young MC's Bust a Move for your staff to video. It's a place that oozes; we still live undaunted by the hardship life brings. Suppose you are visiting and move past the observer status of a tourist and immerse yourself in the food, the lifestyle, and the soul of this place. In that case, you cannot help but remember what living means. And, oh man, it's a good reminder that life is supposed to be lived, and it should have a sway to it.

To do that, we must dare to rebel and remember not to go quietly into the night of life. I may jive with this place because I often rebel against the status quo. My field of social work takes itself too seriously. The point of recovery from trauma should be to learn to have fun despite it occurring, yet so much of social work is deprived of joy. Always bent toward a notion, how dare you have fun while doing such serious work? We should take our cues from those New Orleans people who recovered from Katrina and rebuilt a city steeped in history by doing what it has always done- live life.

I, too, find myself again basking in the post-New Orleans glow of being undaunted in my approach to social work. And knowing that the proper response is to embrace the process authentically in "the big-easy fashion." Social work must remain attached to its history and dance into a new way of doing things. Through community, dance, music, food, and knowing, life will have trauma, which adds depth to our joy. New Orleans is un-jaded and undaunted. Upon my return to work, in true New Orleans fashion, I remain un-jaded and undaunted by the pursuit of life. I know that’s the best place to bust a move.