There’s No White or Black, only Black and Gold

I’m pretty sure you’ll like wondering is that The Nola Chic is doing hanging out with “The White People, A White Boy” 🤔 My life and brand stand for coming together with other like-minded souls, who not only love New Orleans but love people. At this point in my life, I don’t see the color or even family, but how people treat other people and me. As, we know family or let’s say blood does not automatically mean togetherness, love, etc.

FYI: The “White Boy” as some of us say as a term of endearment, a show of this White Man is my people or in slang “I fuccs with him, this my dawg”

Anyway, we were not on a date, but friends are hanging out. As we as he’s assisting me in certain areas to grow as a brand, such as educating not just one group of people on New Orleans culture.

He showed me His Nola, his version of New Orleans and seeing New Orleans through the eyes of a white guy growing in the 7th Ward in the 80s-90s was very similar. He experienced some of the same things black New Orleanians experienced, but he stated he felt ostracized and bullied initially. It didn’t take long for the neighborhood kids to trust his family wasn’t there to hurt them and he and his family were embraced by our community. The color of one’s skin falls to the wayside, now if you do not bleed Black and Gold……You better pretend to and scream Who Dat with the rest of us.

It would be something beautiful if we could find people who are willing to share that they do not entirely understand the culture and want to be a part of it and ask the people to teach them how to do so respectfully. But instead people come to New Orleans stays in as Airbnb, go to the Quarters, and they claim to know our culture. The first step in being a part of the general perception of New Orleans is making that 1st interaction and a simple hello.

Most of the tourist is very passionate about us, Black New Orleanians. And it’s not because, they have black friends and relatives, I believe these select few personally know ones our struggles, hardships, and love for our city.

My goal is to use my platform to raise awareness about life in New Orleans. Just think how more enjoyable it would be to live, love and enjoy New Orleans with anyone who loves our culture and understand the heart of the people.

Like my friend here and me, he showed me, Nola, alright and danced better than any man I ever danced with in a long time. Men need to go back to dancing, slow dancing, two-stepping and leading a lady on the dance floor, well we took it to the Nola streets. Let’s just say I had a fun-filled sensual Nola Night with my friend! Football, dancing, a stroll on Bourbon St. and ending it with some great food from Verte Marte in the French Quarter!

Verti Marte is a must for tourist and locals!

NOLA Chic ⚜

The one and only Queen of Bourbon St

The Jazz Poboy is a local favorite

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: