The Greatest Fear- Dana Stefanczyk

I’ll admit it: I’m scared.

I grew up in a suburb in New Jersey, living a comfortable life. I am white. I am female. I am a US citizen. By sheer nature of my birth, I am better off than many. I have accepted my life, and been very grateful for it, and in the past always assumed that I could adapt to different lifestyles.

Here in NOLA, I am scared. I have been warned by many of the dangers of the city, and that I should be extra cautious here. Extra cautious. In Wayne, NJ extra cautious means locking your door when going for a walk on a summer evening or putting on bug spray so you don’t get eaten to death by mosquitos. I realize that is not enough here, and I of course take the regular precautions. We always go out in groups, stay in well-lit areas, and don’t carry valuables around. Am I safe?

In areas off the beaten path, away from the swarms of tourists, I feel like I am always being looked at, like I stand out, and for that I feel like I am a target. A target of what, I don’t really know; perhaps simply a target of wonder for my differences. But is it merely my physical appearance that makes me the object of so many stares?

Maybe it is my fear. Maybe others can see my eyes darting around cautiously at night, or how I jump a little when someone says hi to me while I am running. Maybe it is my naivete, my cloak of ignorance that I hide beneath, yet am desperately trying to shed. No matter how I try to get around it, I simply can’t know what these people have been through. I can hear their stories, I can volunteer for eight weeks, I can live right in the heart of it all, but I can never really understand. I am still a white girl from suburbia, with a world of opportunity in front of me, and as much as I may try to blend in here, maybe I simply can’t.

All in all, my personal safety is not my greatest fear here. I am more afraid for the city of New Orleans, and that whatever I do here won’t be enough. I fear that I will leave and never have a chance to come back, and that NOLA will become enshrouded from public consciousness once again with the veils of time.

I must sound pessimistic here, and in that I realize that I stand apart from this city. Part of me struggles to see the endless optimism of these people, how after everything their spirit never dies. Fear changed to hope, maybe that can be enough. In the end, there is nothing worse than apathy.