Let’s Chat New Orleans Locals

We the locals of New Orleans, the people who get up to make this city work need to shout the words of Fred Sanford to the city and state reps, well actually it was Bubba who said “I want my daddy’s records.”

We all are due our inheritance, we all had ancestors who built this city that millions of tourist come to, millions of ppl mimic all that we do and there are several ppl coming here not only to live here, but push us out our city.

We deserve to live off the milk and honey of the land that we work, our parents, grandparents and ancestors put their blood in sweat in.

There are millions, possibly billions that we deserve to have access to just like the others. Please don’t think ppl move here solely off the love for New Orleans, they are getting paid. How else can they afford the same houses we used to pay $450/month that rents for $1450 now.

Nola Locals were tricked into settling for the lil road home money or selling their homes for little of nothing and those same homes are on the market for #180k+..

Sorry to rant a but seriously. We must go back to the ways of the old and hv each other’s back, pull each other up, pray & support one another, essentially be “I am my brother’s/sisters keeper”.

There’s no need to be envious of each other, there’s enough of the pie to go around. I know when I get my delicious pie, I’m inviting my ppl to the table and say “Gurl, eat this damn pie, you gonna get the next one” Basically, Paying it Forward.

Others have the ability to support, be happy and share within their circles, because they know if you in a circle it has no choice but to affect everyone in It, the blessing will get to all those in the circle. I wish we all could think like that.

Thank all of you for being so supportive and encouraging. I noticed there’s no need to ask ppl to share my post, read my blog, I don’t hv to ask this one to call me, I don’t hv to beg for friendships or a FB damn like, y’all been just that real. It’s something how a person outside of your family, shoot a person ya meet on social media can turn out to be one of the best ppl you will ever had in your life.

For example I met Kishondamarie on FB, don’t remember what post, but i remember seeing her in Walmart a couple of years ago and we hugged like long-lost friend. Today, we are really good friends, share our lives & the most sacred thoughts with ease or judgement, she’s really protective of me like a lil sister and actually she has made it bearable to be away from my sister.

There are some real souls out there in social media world that I am destined to have as awesome of a friendship with.

Today, I had a very bad day after having a phenomenal experience last night & it took for two women I met on here to call me randomly without knowing how I was feeling. Having that support, that New Orleans hospitality made me feel so good and reminded me of why I came home.

My experience made me have compassion for my fellow church member, who’s what we refer to as a transplant, but she had a similar situation within her circle, neighborhood. Maybe, we, well I’ll say the locals, natives of New Orleans are so upset with the effects of gentrification that some are attempting to solve it by using threatening antics, but that will not work.

We have to work together to solve this issue. I know it’s stressful, heartbreaking to see the very community you grew up in being turned into this New New Orleans. ..

I have always been a humble, loving spirit, there’s not a drop of boasting, bragging, bougie ya know all those bad B words in me, but if by chance I slip and bump my head and forget who the hell I am please know you can correct me, but I seriously know that will not happen unless i really bump my head and develop a case of amnesia.

I share my blessings only because I was once a lil girl in New Orleans and had no clue that the world was so big & without pissing my Mama off I’ll just say we had some tough times, my daddy was absent for a period after they broke up and she had to work a lil $2/hr cooking job in the French Quarter(workers in the Quarter still make very low wages) and we were latch key kids..it was hard and the only people who had it good were the white people, but one day I found out black people could have it as well.

Thank you all & I’m here help me show you #Mylife #MyNola #MyNolaLife 💯⚜❤

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: