NEW ORLEANS — Dressed in silver sparkling shoes and a faux chainmail tunic that glimmered in the chilly air, Antoinette de Alteriis was surrounded by hundreds of participants getting ready for the joyous Joan of Arc parade, which marks the beginning of Carnival season. Among the colorful floats were horses made from paper mâché, a giant green dragon, and sheep fashioned from milk cartons.
Just a short distance away, mourners gathered to pay their respects at the site of a tragic truck attack that claimed 14 lives just six days earlier. A makeshift memorial filled with flowers and crosses stretched for half a block, casting a somber shadow over the festive preparations.
“It’s difficult to find a balance between joy and sorrow,” de Alteriis expressed. “But we choose hope.” Over the past week, numerous officials and outsiders have commended the city for its capacity to recover from calamity. However, many locals feel fatigued by this narrative of “resilience,” insisting they are overwhelmed by ongoing systemic issues and governmental shortcomings.
Mark Schettler, a bartender with years of experience, voiced his belief that the parade and similar celebrations represent a form of defiance that inspires others to take action. “We’re tired of the expectation to be resilient,” he declared. “Why can’t things just work for once? But as long as I have two middle fingers, I’ll keep them raised in defiance.”
In the warmth of a service-industry-only gathering at the Double Club on Chartres Street to celebrate Schettler’s 39th birthday, attendees discussed their frustrations. “Resilience?” pondered Andy Pratt, another industry worker. “Why not just pay us? We’re tired of being told to be resilient.” Dominic and Cierra Hernandez, co-owners of the club, echoed sentiments that it’s unfair to measure individuals’ worth based on their capabilities to navigate trauma. “It’s dismissive and quite insulting,” added tattoo artist and bartender Rafaela Lopez.
Despite their grief, demand for continuity remained high. The reopening of Bourbon Street occurred just a day and a half after the attack, with the nearby Sugar Bowl being slightly postponed. Many people working in the vibrant French Quarter returned to their jobs soon after the incident, expressing concern that they were being rushed back to normalcy at a time when they were still processing their trauma. The city heavily relies on tourism, bringing in 42.6 million visitors in 2022, generating significant revenue.
Lt. Gov. Billy Nungesser highlighted the necessity of tourism dollars for the city’s survival. “Those dollars are what keep the city functioning,” he stated, acknowledging the need to mourn while pivoting towards upcoming events like the Super Bowl. However, some locals feel that this return to normalcy feels more forced than commendable, arguing it places burdens solely on those suffering the losses.
Lopez reflected on the community’s true resilience, asserting that support among residents is what truly keeps them afloat. “We are the only ones who look out for each other,” she remarked. A cheer erupted among the group as they lifted their glasses, playfully toasting, “To resilience, y’all!”
New Orleans has a history marked by tragedy, from Hurricane Katrina to violent incidents. In the past year, the city also held the highest per-capita homicide rate in the United States. Residents have grown somewhat desensitized to violence, often feeling that they must continually brush themselves off to keep moving forward.
In a heartbreaking reminder that violence remains part of life in the city, on New Year’s Day—the day after the tragic incident—two fatal shootings occurred, one claiming the life of a beloved local store owner, Ms. Maria. City officials have faced criticism for their perceived lack of preparation and security, leading to a vulnerability on that fateful night when the attack occurred.
Yet as the parade proceeded, it brought together many participants from all walks of life, somewhat smaller in scale this year but filled with vibrant costumes and spirits. Spectators voiced their appreciation for those braving the cold, creating an atmosphere of love and connection amidst their shared predicament.
Hannah Miller held a sign adorned with lights reading, “I love you, New Orleans,” feeling the event mirrored a rally against fear. “Tonight felt like a protest because love is bigger than fear,” she expressed.
The march embodied a spirit of resilience that many, including marcher Wren Misbach, viewed as an essential part of their identity. “We take care of ourselves here. We rise again, putting ourselves back together.” Yasin Frank Southall added that rekindling familiar traditions helped bridge the gap between grief and normalcy.
As the night wore on, Kathleen Ford—who lost her home to Hurricane Katrina—shared her reasons for attending despite her fatigue. “It’s about showcasing the beauty and strength of our city,” she declared about the parade that celebrates both joy and pain. In moments like these, the essence of New Orleans shines through, reminding those inside the procession of their unique resilience, gracefully woven into the fabric of their city.
In the backdrop of the celebration, angels brought up the rear, their white-gloved hands clasped in prayer, as the parade came to a close, encapsulating both the challenges and the spirit of New Orleans in a single, unified moment.
