You’re not imagining it.
New Orleans feels different — and not always in a good way.
Sometimes it happens slowly. Other times, all at once.
But every time you look down at your phone, something else is gone.
Gone: The corner store with the $3 po’ boy
Now it’s a wine shop that closes at 6 p.m. and doesn’t take cash. The regulars aren’t standing outside. The hot sausage sign is gone. So is the owner. So is the culture.
Gone: The family next door
Evicted. Displaced. Bought out. They lived there for 30 years. One rent hike later, they were boxed up and erased. Someone new lives there now — and they don’t know your name.
Gone: The second line route
Shortened. Redirected. Canceled. Someone complained about the noise. The police made a change. Now the horns don’t pass your block anymore.
Gone: The school
Rebranded. Renamed. Privatized. Turned into an “academy.” The teachers are gone. The uniforms are different. And the kids? They’re numbers in a charter operator’s spreadsheet.
Gone: The shade from the oaks
Cut down after the storm. Or during street repairs. Or because a developer said the roots were in the way. Now it’s 102 degrees on that sidewalk and there’s nowhere to hide from the heat.
Gone: The accents
The Yats. The 9th Ward drawl. The Black Creole inflection. Drowned out by imported dialects. You hear them less every year.
Gone: The neighborhood name
It’s not the 7th Ward anymore, they say. It’s “The Garden on Frenchmen.”
It’s not Bywater. It’s “The Arts District.”
It’s not Central City. It’s “Uptown Adjacent.”
It’s not Treme. It’s “Esplanade Ridge.”
Wrong.
Gone: The street performers who weren’t on Instagram
The ones who played for the love of it. Who knew every soul note and every tourist’s face. They’re not “content.” They were culture. Now they’re priced out — or ignored.
Gone: The church that held it all together
The one where your grandma sang. Where the food pantry fed half the block. Where the AC barely worked but the choir did.
Now it’s a wedding venue. $4,000 to rent it. No communion wine allowed.
Gone: The trust that someone’s looking out for you
At Entergy. At the Sewerage & Water Board. At City Hall. At the courthouse. At the school board. Gone.
But Here’s What Hasn’t Disappeared: You
You’re still here.
You still remember how it used to sound, feel, taste.
You still know what it means to be from here.
You still recognize the loss — even if you’re the only one calling it out loud.
This city wants you to believe the change is progress. That everything lost was just the cost of moving forward.
But some things shouldn’t be negotiable.
Some things should be sacred.
Some things should be fought for.
If you feel this, share it.
Not because it’s nostalgic — but because it’s real.
Because people need to be reminded that it’s not too late.
Not yet.
Editor’s Note:
This article previously featured an AI-generated image. While we briefly explored image generation tools as part of our design process, we’ve since decided not to use AI-generated visuals in future posts. Nearly all of our images are created by artists, licensed photographers, or sourced from trusted photo libraries — and we remain committed to supporting human creativity in all our storytelling.
Recently a woman called ‘Lady Boule’ on YouTube said the Zulu’s of New Orleans were NOT our culture. This ignorant
Black member of AKA sorority and, former Alabama born retired teacher now living in Georgia, received much deserved pushback that set her, and some of her (equally ignorant subscribers) straight. Even a Zulu from South Africa set her straight. I added my heart-felt response as well.
She was oblivious to the culture, history and contributions of New Orleans.
Bon ton roulet!
New Orleans ,and its culture will never die.Its in the hearts and minds of native born’s like my father, and those of us who live elsewhere in America ,and the world. I was there in October with my son. Everytime I visit, its a new experience.
I introduced my students in New England to King 🎂
Mardi Gras Indians are a national.treasure as are the Zulu’s.
Quit crying about things disappearing a carry a torch for the culture. Things will always change. Take part in it and shape it instead of fanning flames of negativity. Garbage attitude, garbage article.
Quit crying about things disappearing a carry a torch for the culture. Things will always change. Take part in it and shape it instead of fanning flames of negativity. Garbage attitude, garbage article.
One more thing. New Orleans doesn’t belong to you. You are not a gate keeper or arbiter or what’s hip and what isn’t. New Orleans is for whomever decides to take part in this totally unique and widely celebrated lifestyle.
Thanks for the comment. We never claim to be arbiters of what makes New Orleans hip or not. New Orleans belongs to all of us and we can certainly have our opinions. You as a reader are also entitled to yours, and if you don’t agree with our opinions that’s totally fine. But it’s just that – an “opinion” piece.
Sounds like the opinion of someone I would not enjoy standing next to at a parade.
Definitely transplants who are hating on the OP. No one from New Orleans would ever have that kind of response to someone’s opinion.
Gone are days when an Elder would correct you and tell you tell your parents what you did.