Oh, the places you'll go!

 One of my favorite stories is "Oh, The Places You'll Go" by Dr. Seuss.  In reflecting on my outside experience, several of the famous rhymes came to mind. It is in the courage to explore and the opportunity to explore other places that I have learned about myself, my culture and how I make meaning of the world. I happened upon my "outside experience" which I think made it even more impactful and meaningful for me in assessing my own culture and how I understand, learn about and interpret the other.

  “You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself any direction you choose.”

― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go! 

In November, I chose to travel to New Orleans, LA for a 5-day stint in the Big Easy.  The trip started out as a vacation with my husband, sister-in-law, and brother-in-law with the intention to explore Bourbon Street and attend the New Orleans Saints NFL Football game (as one of our family members coaches for the opposing team, the Tennessee Titans.)


Within the first 2 hours of arriving, I knew I was in a completely different environment than "home" and would be learning a LOT about the people, food, culture of this town.  First, we drove in over a huge bridge that crossed the Mississippi River into the city and the first thing we saw upon entering was a series of tall buildings.  Some reminded me of the skyscrapers in Cincinnati and seemed to bustle with business of the day. Others, however, were water-stained, windowless, graffiti-ridden and gated off as hazardous locations. It was immediate that I realized the affects of Katrina - over 10 years ago - remain central to the culture of this historic city.

 “Out there things can happen, and frequently do,
To people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen, don't worry, don't stew.
Just go right along, you'll start happening too!”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

This place was intriguing and I wanted to become completely immersed in the culture. I wanted to eat all the seafood, listen to all the blues and jazz music, drink a hurricane on Bourbon Street, go on all the tours of the 9th Ward to see what Katrina left behind. I thought to myself "Damn, why didn't I use this trip as my 'outside experience.'"  So,  I moved forward and ate and drank and toured and saw. But, this tourist approach was not immersion so much as it was speculation. I came to each event with my own perspective and understanding that it was temporary and not reality.  Until, out of nowhere, it hit me: this isn't my reality, but this is someone's reality. I started to consider what I would do for work if I lived here? Where would I live? How would I feel about tourism? How would I feel about Katrina? Would I be on Bourbon Street every day? Would I go to a football game in the seemingly undamaged Superdome?  What would be my reality?

“Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find, for a mind maker-upper to make up his mind”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go! 

I was grappling with these comparisons of self versus other and trying to understand what would happen if our experiences were flopped. I couldn't decide how to move forward - I knew I wanted to learn more about their experience, but also didn't know how to remove myself from the tourist mindset. I stood in Bourbon Street watching a street show of three local men dancing in the street; one man had just removed his shirt to do the worm with 2 foot intervals, when another local man approached my neighboring tourist.  The local man was dressed in a pair of muddy boots, a stained tank top underneath a holey jean jacket.  He held a leash with a sandy, shaggy dog and a cup. He asked the tourist - dressed in khaki shorts and a pressed blue collared shirt - to spare any change.  The tourist just looked passed them, not acknowledging the request and seemingly interested in giving 100% attention to the street show. The local man, disgusted and hurt, yelled "I'm a person! Can't you see me?!"

It hit me that I was like the tourist in this interaction - I have no idea what culture he would identify with, but I shared more in common with him in terms of why I was in NOLA and where my focus was directed. But, I felt empathy for the local man and snapped out of the tourist fog.

  

“You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

As a planner, I had previously made every tour and meal reservation and had carefully tailored every minute of our trip. On our last day, my husband and I cancelled our plans and just drove to another section of town called the Garden District.  We parked on a side street outside someone's home, took a picture of the cross-street signs and started walking.  This part of town mirrored the city and the various local people we had encountered through the whole vacation.  One house was grand, pristine and picturesque while it's neighbor was in shambles and not prepared even after the 10-year anniversary of tragedy. We walked through sidewalks that were completely uprooted due to water damage and meandered around the "main street" which included a string of local delicacies.  We sat at a diner that had a freshly printed menu in comic sans articulated the 3 breakfast options of the day. Nothing like the Pancakes or Eggs Benedict like I was familiar with - instead, the options were crayfish and grits or jambalaya.  The waiter didn't say a word to any patrons at the 4-table establishment - just passed out the paper and dishes and cleaned them up again.  After our meal, we walked back through the town through one last look at the juxtaposition of privilege and poverty with only assumptions about how folks live in this culture day in and day out. 

Although it was scary for me - in the sense that I had not researched or planned any part of this adventure - it was an opportunity to be intentional about learning through immersion and "winning" a new perspective, as Dr. Seuss might suggest.

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go! 

 

I spent the ENTIRE 9 hour drive home reading and researching the history of the City of New Orleans and the horrific tragedy of Hurricane Katrina. Although I "lived" the experience - safely from my dorm room in Madison, WI in 2005 - I never understood it, thought about it critically, or concerned how those that actually lived it were feeling, let alone 10 years later. My research makes me want to return and consider how my experience compares and contrasts those of the local NOLA people. My visit affected my outlook on national tragedy and how I can/will/should make a difference using my own culture to enhance the movement. Learning about the other undoubtedly allows for a larger worldview to better inform change for the better.

“And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl."

― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go!