Mizzou Alternative Breaks wasn’t exactly on my radar until about a day before we left. All we had were routine weekly meetings that made it seem like the trip was always weeks away with ample time for preparation. The anxiety mixed with the uncertainty of spending a week with 10 strangers was steadily flourishing in my mind. The urge to back out was brimming over until I thought about the regret I would have the next day for selfishly letting my own feelings censor the real intention of the trip. As it turns out, that was easily one of the best decisions I’ve made in my college career so far. Squished into a Ford Flex filled with five other volunteers, I was off to New Orleans.
I grew up in Colorado Springs, Colorado, a city of half a million people on the front range of the Rockies. Admittedly, growing up in a Caucasian bubble like Colorado Springs blindfolded me to the harsh realities of life that so many people endure without a choice every day. The last place I thought I would find myself on a spring break was at a warehouse in east New Orleans.
The neighborhood we volunteered in was predominantly made up of low-income and African-American families still scarred by Hurricane Katrina that barreled through New Orleans in 2005. You’d think after 13 years the city would have recovered from the disaster, but in neighborhoods like the Lower Ninth Ward, overgrown foliage and eerie house foundations litter the landscape with a new hurricane-proof house here and there.
The food distribution center we volunteered at is called Love In Action. It is run by a lady of below-average stature with an amazingly above-average desire to care for her community. Her name is Ms. Gail. Every Monday through Friday you can find her at this rundown warehouse providing produce, snacks, beverages, meat and even pet food to hundreds of people she just happens to know on a first name basis, each and every person. She’ll ask how your grandfather who is in the hospital is doing. She’ll ask you how your daughter did on her spelling test she took last week. Ms. Gail and the other volunteers treat every client like family, and more importantly, like a person.
These people who have been disregarded by society can come to Love In Action to find a consistent source of courtesy and relentless kindness. This isn’t just any food pantry; it’s an outlet for people who don’t have the resources to spend $200 at Walmart. It’s a social gathering for neighbors to catch up. It’s a sanctuary of ignorance combined with a refuge of bliss. These people may not have much, but they embrace the simple consideration to genuinely ask you how your day is going. In most cases, my day was probably going a lot better than theirs, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t make a difference if it was the two buses they might have had to take to get there, or the fact they had to accept we could only give them three bananas despite having four kids to feed. They still asked, “How is your day going, sweetie?”
MAB gave me the opportunity to meet so many inspirational people. Whether it was the unlikely group of volunteers I feel like are my closest friends after just a week or the selfless people I was given the privilege to serve, I will never forget my experience with the people who made the “Big Easy” feel so small.