Racism is Alive

One of the most disturbing experiences I encountered while in New Orleans was a cab ride I took on Thanksgiving from Downtown back to Loyola. My first time using a taxi other than United Cabs, I was already out of my element, but the middle-aged Pakistani driver seemed friendly enough and I was in a hurry to get back to campus. He began to make casual conversation, asking me how long I’ve been here, what I like about the city and what my plans were for Thanksgiving. He then asked me if I knew about the Bayou Classic events going on that weekend. I told him I had heard about the game but didn’t know much, and he advised me to stay Uptown. When I asked him why, he proceeded to warn me about all the chaos that was about to unleash in the city. The “chocolate-colored people” of the two competing all-black Louisiana schools were going to “take over the town” and “steal hotel bed sheets and hang them from windows.” Violence was going to explode across the city, as each one of these African Americans was bound to have a weapon. Each year in the past the event had caused rampant “murder and mayhem”, and loads of people had been shot and killed in gang fights. All I could do was nod and say, “Oh really”, thinking how funny it was that they would let such a disastrous event continue every year and that I never heard anything about all the “mayhem.” The funny thing is that this guy really felt like he was doing me a favor by keeping me informed and warned. I got out of the cab with the sick feeling that even New Orleans has a long way to go to put down racism.