As I might have implied in my last posts, there have been time where I've really struggled to find community and sense of belonging in this city. Especially with young adult Catholics. More often than not, when attending a function where many young adults are present, it's been difficult, sometimes impossible, to engage them in some sort of conversation if they don't know you. People generally are nice and polite, yet they're also aloof and stand-offish. For example, last night I attended a talked hosted by the New Evangelization Society, and I sat next to a couple who were my age. Any attempts to engage them in conversation were met with one-, maybe two-, sentence answers, and there was very little reciprocation on their end in efforts to carry the burden of continuing the exchange. Perhaps I didn't ask the right questions, though I've found this interaction with this demographic to be quite typical in this city. If one aspect of the four-fold mission of the church is koinonia (intimacy, community, relationships, sharing) and this is the nature of young adults in the Church, then it really shouldn't be a surprise that other young adults are leaving. And, of course, I'm not suggesting that this might be the sole reason for young people to change religious affiliations; as indicated in the link, there are a myriad of motivations.
Anyway, I digress from the original intent of my reflection. As I was participating in this strained exchange of niceties, I realized that is was such a stark contrast to an experience earlier that afternoon, an experience indicative of what I feel is the true New Orleans culture. I was on my way back from a meeting in the Bywater to the office, and I figured I'd stop by the St. Roch Park to see if one of the residents I'd been working with for Fight the Blight Day was home. After knocking several times and hearing no response, I decided to walk around the park, to get a sense of its condition. Sans a little bit of litter and graffiti, it's fairly well-maintained. There was a gentleman sitting in a white car next to one of the baseball fields, and I waved hello. That initial wave turned into an hour-long conversation that was so effortless and fluid, so different from my experience later on that evening. The man was doing security detail for the St. Roch pool, for which the City is performing capital repairs so that it can be open for the summer and also, as this man revealed, for some sort of filming. He was from St. Roch and even attended Our Lady Star of the Sea, which is right next to the playground, until Katrina. Like many, he experience contractor fraud and the neighborhood recovery was lagging, so he moved Uptown to take care of his family house after his sister decided to move away.
I've been engaged in countless other meetings over the past few months in my work where conversations that I anticipate lasting a half-hour extend into the 1- to 2- hour range. With these people I barely know, the topics digress from my intended agenda into the realm of politics, economics, world affairs, history. Many times the other person is the who does all the talking, and I just sit and listen, fascinated and thankful that I am with someone who is willing to share their time and part of themselves with me.
I am so thankful for this job/volunteer opportunity. There were so many moments last fall where I was ready to give up on New Orleans, I was ready to leave and ship myself off to grad school because of experiences as I described earlier. But I've realized now those people don't truly emulate New Orleans culture and that I was about to give up on a misconception of this city that was fueled by the people with whom I chose to surround myself.
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