A weekend of New Orleans-style debauchery inevitably leads to a necessary re-evaluation of one’s personal merit and purpose as a member of the human race, as well as a reality check as to why one is actually in Nola for the summer (Bourbon Street and hand grenades aside). Through the haze that characterizes weeknight/end “noches”, I find it easy to lose sight of the reason for which I sit from 9-5 at my makeshift desk in city hall, apart from using the time to plan for the next set of after-5 activities. Duke Engage could hardly have been created with the intent of filling an entertainment role in our lives- or had it?
Undoubtedly, the work I am doing in the New Orleans Health Department is valuable. Fingers crossed, the grant I am currently applying for will be won, and I will leave a tangible legacy in New Orleans, in the form of an HIV education and prevention program, to be implemented on HBCU campuses. However, it is also possible that the grant will not be won, my hard work is rendered useless, and I have nothing to show for my time here. With all of this running through my head, I subjected my co-worker, Tucker, to my rants, to which he offered some consolation: even if we don’t end up winning the much-needed thousands of dollars for the department, at least we provided our co-workers with some entertainment.
Although it took a few minutes, I came to realize that my sage friend just might be right. Thinking over my hours spent in the NOHD, I concluded that I have logged just as many hours dancing the Cupid Shuffle (hottest dance to hit the US since the Macarena, fyi) with Valrita, joking with Dr. Franklin, and having lengthy conversations with Ro as I have spent actually drafting my grant proposal. While some may argue that my little quips and office banter aren’t exactly the kind of post-Katrina relief this city is looking for, I disagree. My office, as I’m sure is characteristic of many in New Orleans, is a breeding ground for stress; tensions are high and, at times, progress seems almost nonexistent. Additional funds, obviously, would help to alleviate some of the financial burden facing the department and its programs; however, a brief smile or laugh would just as effectively lift the cloud of anxiety that so often hinders productivity here.
The outcome of my efforts spent in the NOHD, then, is only somewhat unknown. Perhaps my lofty aspirations of “leaving my mark” will actually be realized, in which case I can pat myself on the back and self-servingly add the accomplishment to my resume and grad school applications. However, if the only mark I’ve managed to leave in New Orleans is in Val or Ro’s memory, as that “wacky, friendly, intern from Duke”, I won’t be disappointed; with the reality of post-Katrina New Orleans as a backdrop, perhaps the most valuable thing I can offer is a distraction.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Really profound and honest. And in my opinion, a lot of what we do can't be measured in spreadsheets, work hours, grant proposals, etc. A lot of what we are contributing just might not be a tangible.
A friend of mine e-mailed me the other day after reading the blogs and said how he was inspired by the simple fact that we've all "given up" our summers to come to New Orleans. I've heard the sentiment echoed elsewhere - people are heartened by the simple fact that you are willing to help.
And of course, there's no metric for hope and inspiration. But I'm pretty certain that you've brought a little bit of both to New Orleans.
-Michael
Post a Comment