Carolyn rath
SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen Titanic and you don't want to know what happens, please skip down to paragraph 3. If, however, you have seen the movie, please enjoy this carefully crafted metaphor.
You know the main treasure hunter guy in the movie, with the scruffy red hair? To be honest, I always kind of judged him. After he hears Rose's story of her lost love (if you can call allowing Jack to sink to the depths of the freezing Atlantic when he clearly could have fit on that floating door too "lost love"), the treasure hunter says "I never got it… I never let it in." For years, he had been looking through the ruins of the Titanic for a long-lost diamond -- looking, but not really seeing. I never understood why it took him so long, or how he could just forget the impact of the tragedy that had changed so many lives decades before. Not until our DukeEngage program dinner last week did I realize that maybe I had more in common with my scruffy friend than I had thought.
Last week, we had dinner at Covenant House (where Steve works) with Executive Director Jim Kelly. While we were there, Mr. Kelly told us his Katrina story. Although his family was evacuated before the hurricane hit, Mr. Kelly weathered the storm in the Superdome, tirelessly serving scores of individuals who had lost everything. While I've heard several personal accounts of the hurricane since arriving in NOLA, this story was the first one to bring tears to my eyes and make me realize something: I never let it in.
Like the treasure hunter from Titanic, I never fully comprehended the magnitude of the situation before me; I never put myself in the past. When I thought of Katrina, I thought about the survivors, not the ones who didn't make it. I saw New Orleans as a city that was almost back to normal, not a place that was forever scarred by the storm. I was looking, but not really seeing. However, thanks to Mr. Kelly's eye-opening account of Katrina and its aftermath, I feel like I can really see New Orleans for the first time.
When I'm at the SoFAB culinary camp, I see the promise and potential of a generation of "Katrina Babies". When I hear of the work my peers are doing for organizations like Covenant House and the Red Cross, I see the dedication and sacrifices of those who have never stopped rebuilding. When I ride the streetcar or walk the streets of downtown, I see a community of people that, despite all that they lost in the storm, have stayed here because they love being exactly where they are.
Going into these last two weeks of culinary camp with my favorite chefs-to-be, I am more determined than ever to contribute to the rebuilding efforts in every way that I can. For me and my fellow counselors, that means inspiring our campers to learn more, create more, and be more than they thought they could. We have the chance to help these kids adopt healthy habits that they can turn into healthy lifestyles. I am so incredibly grateful for this opportunity, and most of all for having two more weeks to learn from these amazing kids.
So, in conclusion, I would like to officially apologize to my friend from Titanic who I once judged so severely. I've realized that it's hard to feel connected to a past that you weren't there to experience. However, just because I wasn't here in the past doesn't mean that I can't be a part of this community now and in the future. Sometimes, all it takes is listening to someone's story for you to open up, let it in, and see the world around you a little more clearly.
-Carolyn :)
p.s. For a more lighthearted read, check out the Kids Culinary Camp blog: http://sofabkidsculinarycamp2014.blogspot.com/
You know the main treasure hunter guy in the movie, with the scruffy red hair? To be honest, I always kind of judged him. After he hears Rose's story of her lost love (if you can call allowing Jack to sink to the depths of the freezing Atlantic when he clearly could have fit on that floating door too "lost love"), the treasure hunter says "I never got it… I never let it in." For years, he had been looking through the ruins of the Titanic for a long-lost diamond -- looking, but not really seeing. I never understood why it took him so long, or how he could just forget the impact of the tragedy that had changed so many lives decades before. Not until our DukeEngage program dinner last week did I realize that maybe I had more in common with my scruffy friend than I had thought.
Last week, we had dinner at Covenant House (where Steve works) with Executive Director Jim Kelly. While we were there, Mr. Kelly told us his Katrina story. Although his family was evacuated before the hurricane hit, Mr. Kelly weathered the storm in the Superdome, tirelessly serving scores of individuals who had lost everything. While I've heard several personal accounts of the hurricane since arriving in NOLA, this story was the first one to bring tears to my eyes and make me realize something: I never let it in.
Like the treasure hunter from Titanic, I never fully comprehended the magnitude of the situation before me; I never put myself in the past. When I thought of Katrina, I thought about the survivors, not the ones who didn't make it. I saw New Orleans as a city that was almost back to normal, not a place that was forever scarred by the storm. I was looking, but not really seeing. However, thanks to Mr. Kelly's eye-opening account of Katrina and its aftermath, I feel like I can really see New Orleans for the first time.
When I'm at the SoFAB culinary camp, I see the promise and potential of a generation of "Katrina Babies". When I hear of the work my peers are doing for organizations like Covenant House and the Red Cross, I see the dedication and sacrifices of those who have never stopped rebuilding. When I ride the streetcar or walk the streets of downtown, I see a community of people that, despite all that they lost in the storm, have stayed here because they love being exactly where they are.
Going into these last two weeks of culinary camp with my favorite chefs-to-be, I am more determined than ever to contribute to the rebuilding efforts in every way that I can. For me and my fellow counselors, that means inspiring our campers to learn more, create more, and be more than they thought they could. We have the chance to help these kids adopt healthy habits that they can turn into healthy lifestyles. I am so incredibly grateful for this opportunity, and most of all for having two more weeks to learn from these amazing kids.
So, in conclusion, I would like to officially apologize to my friend from Titanic who I once judged so severely. I've realized that it's hard to feel connected to a past that you weren't there to experience. However, just because I wasn't here in the past doesn't mean that I can't be a part of this community now and in the future. Sometimes, all it takes is listening to someone's story for you to open up, let it in, and see the world around you a little more clearly.
-Carolyn :)
p.s. For a more lighthearted read, check out the Kids Culinary Camp blog: http://sofabkidsculinarycamp2014.blogspot.com/