Latest news with #NewOrleanians
Yahoo
21 hours ago
- General
- Yahoo
Black Americans being used as guinea pigs involved universities
In 1871, Henry D. Schmidt, a New Orleans doctor, 'gifted' the crania of 19 formerly enslaved African American and mixed-race individuals to Dr. Emil Ludwig Schmidt at the University of Leipzig to study the racist hypothesis that a person's morality or intelligence could be determined by crevices and bumps of their skull. A century and a half later, in a presumed act of higher consciousness, the German university no longer felt the need to house the ill-gotten skulls and, on Saturday, the remains of those 19 disregarded souls were given a proper burial in New Orleans. Saturday's event at Dillard University took place on the same week that Harvard University announced that it is relinquishing what are believed to be among the earliest photos of enslaved people in the United States. The 1850 images of a father and daughter known as Renty and Delia, who were photographed naked to the waist, were commissioned by Harvard biologist Louis Agassiz to support the theory of polygenism, the idea that human races evolved separately. Harvard would probably still be clutching those photos if Tamara Lanier, an author who says she's a descendant of the father and daughter pictured, hadn't fought a 15-year legal battle with the university. But the photos won't come to her. Renty and Delia's images will now be placed at the International African American Museum in South Carolina, the state where they were enslaved. As I sat through the three-hour service, which included a city acknowledgement by New Orleans Mayor LaToya Cantrell, musical tributes and a riveting performance from Dillard University's Theatre Ensemble personifying the 19 human beings we were paying homage to, I couldn't help but think about the history of Black Americans being the guinea pigs for experimentation or examination or the subject of incomplete theories, under the guise of scientific advancement. Or the irony of racist individuals using 'inferior' Black specimens to interrogate complex ideas about human physiology, and still arriving at racist conclusions even with evidence in their possession that contradicts their hypotheses. We live in a moment where there is a persistent effort to erase all knowledge of these atrocities and pretend as if they were just figments of Black folks' imagination. But Eva Baham, who chaired the Cultural Repatriation Committee that brought the remains of the 19 New Orleanians home, said during Saturday's service that the purpose of studying history is 'to move forward. And when we keep our past hidden, we are starting over every day.' The memorial service for Adam Grant, Isaak Bell, Hiram Smith, William Pierson, Henry Williams, John Brown, Hiram Malone, William Roberts, Alice Brown, Prescilla Hatchet, Marie Louise, Mahala, Samuel Prince, John Tolman, Henry Allen, Moses Willis, Henry Anderson and two other unidentified souls was unlike any other I have witnessed. The decedents had transitioned over a century and a half ago; however, their departure from this realm could not have been considered peaceful before this weekend's ceremony. Roughly 200 community members filled the sanctuary of Dillard's Lawless Memorial Chapel to pay their respects to these ancestors who were so horribly disrespected after they died. 'It was emotionally draining because you're trying your best to make some connections and to search and find [that] there's hope,' Freddi Williams Evans, a member of the Cultural Repatriation Committee, told me. 'We could not verify any descendants. And so we have to step in and be their family.' Harvard is letting go not just of the photos of Renty and Delia, but also images of enslaved people known as Alfred, Delia, Drana, Fassena, Jack and Jem. Lanier, who says she's the great-great-great-granddaughter of 'Papa Renty,' said of the settlement with Harvard, 'This pilfered property, images taken without dignity or consent and used to promote a racist psychoscience will now be repatriated to a home where their stories can be told and their humanity can be restored.' As she spoke Wednesday she locked arms with Susanna Moore, the great-great-great-granddaughter of Agassiz, the Harvard biologist. Moore rightly called the work her forefather was doing with the photos 'a deeply racist project.' The combination of Harvard relinquishing its photos and Dillard receiving the remains of those wrongly shipped to a lab overseas means that even in 2025, we are still unpacking just how much dehumanization defined slavery and its aftermath in the United States. Dillard University President Monique Guillory told me it was important to honor the 19 in New Orleans because 'They walked the streets of New Orleans like we do.' Saturday's ceremony ended with African drumming and dancing, and then attendees were led out of the chapel by a jazz band and a traditional New Orleans second line en route to bury the remains of a tormented people, the right way. This article was originally published on
Axios
4 days ago
- Business
- Axios
Trump's student visa pause threatens restaurant staffing
Since reopening in 2014, Brennan's Restaurant in the French Quarter has struggled to stay fully staffed — but general manager Christian Pendleton says they've gotten closer in recent years thanks to overseas recruiting. Why it matters: Now, that's in jeopardy as the Trump administration cracks down on the student visas that Brennan's and others in the hospitality industry use to fill their ranks. Catch up quick: Secretary of State Marco Rubio issued a directive this week ordering U.S. embassies to pause student visa applications, Axios' Jason Lalljee reports. The Trump administration is also considering requiring a review of visa applicants' social media. State of play: At Brennan's, which needs about 250 people to operate, the restaurant hires staff as interns through culinary and hospitality schools in the students' home countries. Once here, they work through a yearlong track either in front-of-house hospitality or in the kitchen, owner Ralph Brennan tells Axios New Orleans. The students, Brennan said, earn the same wages and benefits as their local counterparts. How it works: The visas that interns for Brennan's and other hospitality industry employers use fall under the J-1 category, which is impacted by the pause. F-1 visas are for those enrolled in academic programs, such as at colleges and universities, and J-1 visas are for those enrolled in specific educational exchange programs. What they're saying:"We were worried about places that could take students just to use them as cheap labor, but we don't feel that way," said Princes Arevalo, a previous Brennan's exchange staffer, in a 2016 conversation with The Times-Picayune's Ian McNulty. "We feel lucky to be here, because they have a program and a plan for us." Brennan declined to connect Axios New Orleans with a current student out of concern for their visa status. Flashback: Soon after the restaurant's 2014 reopening, Pendleton went to Brennan with an idea to explore hiring students from overseas. "Ralph was apprehensive," Pendleton said during a media event this week. "He wanted Americans to have these jobs, especially New Orleanians." But, eventually, as hiring remained difficult, Brennan relented, telling him to "give it a shot," Pendleton recalled. Pendleton hit the road to interview students interested in learning high-end hospitality in the Southern U.S. He has since made near-annual recruiting trips. The first group of students came from the Philippines. Soon enough, others followed from Botswana, Kenya, Uganda, Zimbabwe and South Africa, especially. "The first year … we interviewed like 600 kids," Pendleton said, noting that the hiring source has been especially valuable since the coronavirus pandemic. Since then, the interns have become a unique part of Brennan's staff as they experience life in New Orleans and exchange cultural experiences — especially food — with their new colleagues. By the numbers: Today, about 10% of Brennan's staff are J-1 visa holders, Brennan says, which is the most the government allows. If their ability to continue the program disappears, Brennan says, "it will have an impact." "It won't be crushing," he clarifies, "but I hope it doesn't [disappear] because it's been a very successful program for us." What we're watching: It's not clear when the Trump administration will lift its pause on visa application interviews. "I don't know what [the post-pause] process will be, but we've had no trouble with any of these individuals because they're here to learn," Brennan said. "They ask a lot of questions, they work really hard, they want to learn and take their skills back to their home country."
Axios
5 days ago
- Health
- Axios
After being part of racist experimentation, 19 New Orleanians' remains return home
Remains from 19 people whose craniums were shipped to Germany for racist pseudoscientific experimentation in the 19th century have now come home to New Orleans. Why it matters: The Dillard University-based committee responsible for their return is hosting a public jazz funeral on Saturday as the remains are finally interred. What they're saying:"This is not simply about bones and artifacts. It is not only about injustices. This is about restoring and, in many ways for us here, celebrating our humanity," said Dillard University president Monique Guillory in a press conference Wednesday. "It is about confronting a dark chapter in medical and scientific history, and choosing instead a path of justice, honor and remembrance. And we will do so in the most sacred way we know how: in a true New Orleans fashion, with a jazz funeral that shows the world these people mattered. They belonged. They belonged here, and now they are home." Flashback: The 19 people died in New Orleans at Charity Hospital between Dec. 5, 1871, and January 1872, according to Dillard historian Eva Baham, who chaired the Repatriation Committee. They ranged in age from 17 to 70 and included both women and men of mixed descent, as well as two unknown people. By the 1880s, New Orleans doctor Henry D. Schmidt had sent their craniums to Emil Ludwig Schmidt of Leipzig, Germany. There, they were catalogued as "specimens" and used to further research into the now-discredited belief that a person's personality, intelligence and virtue could be determined by the differences in their skulls, Dillard University says. The location of the rest of the 19 individuals' bodies remains unknown. Two years ago, the University of Leipzig reached out to New Orleans city officials, hoping the known remains could be returned home. In the time since, a partnership between officials from Dillard, Xavier, LCMC and the city ultimately resulted in the 19 individuals' remains being returned to New Orleans about a week ago. When they did, they were brought to Rhodes Funeral Home for a brief private ceremony to recognize their return. The intrigue: The committee was unable to find descendants of the 19 people, Baham said, due in large part to how little information was catalogued about them before they died. They also had been in New Orleans for varying lengths of time — records show one person was here for only about an hour before dying, Baham said — with some coming from other states. In the end, Baham said, "we are serving as the families of these people." If you go: The jazz funeral on Saturday is open to the public, Baham said, so that New Orleanians can "be a part of bringing dignity to people from whom it was taken." A viewing begins at 9am Saturday at Lawless Memorial Chapel at Dillard University, with a service at 11am. What's next: The remains of the 19 people will be later privately interred at the Hurricane Katrina memorial on Canal Street. Who they were Zoom in: This is what is known about the 19 people whose remains have now been returned to New Orleans, according to research shared by Dillard: Moses Willis, 23, a Virginia native who died Dec. 5, 1871. Isaak (or Isaac) Bell, 70, a native of North Carolina, who died Dec. 5, 1871. Henry Anderson, 23, a Missouri native who died Dec. 10, 1871. Henry Williams, 55, a North Carolina native who died Dec. 14, 1871. Prescilla Hatchet, 19, a Virginia native who died Dec. 16, 1871. Alice Brown, 15, a Louisiana native who died Dec. 17, 1871. John Tolman, 23, a South Carolina native who died Dec. 17, 1871. Samuel Prince, 40, a Louisiana native who died Dec. 20, 1871. Hiram Smith, 22, a Virginia native who died Dec. 22, 1871. Marie Louise, 55, a Louisiana native who died Dec. 24, 1871. Hiram Malone, 21, a Tennessee native who died Dec. 24, 1871. Henry Allen, 17, a Kentucky native who died Dec. 26, 1871. Mahala, 70, a Virginia native who died Dec. 26, 1871. William Pierson, 43, a Louisiana native who died Dec. 27, 1871. John Brown, 48, a Louisiana native who died Dec. 27, 1871. Adam Grant, 50, a native of Tennessee who died Dec. 31, 1871. William Roberts, 23, a Georgia native who died Jan. 10, 1872.
Axios
14-05-2025
- General
- Axios
New Orleans' Yat accent is disappearing, researchers say
The sounds ya mom n'em used ta make are disappearing, researchers say. Why it matters: Though we're hearing it less and less, the Yat accent is still a key part of New Orleans' identity. Zoom in: Research from Virginia Tech professor Katie Carmichael, a Tulane alumna, has shown for years how the Yat accent has been disappearing from the city as its speakers moved into the suburbs. In her latest study, published in December, Carmichael reports that its disappearance is most noticeable among millennials. Don't get carried away though. This isn't yet another thing this generation destroyed. Blame Hurricane Katrina instead. Just adolescents when the storm hit, Katrina-enforced out-migration was the main culprit, the AP reports from Carmichael's research. The storm exposed young New Orleanians to other linguistic sounds in the process. The big picture: The Yat death knell is among a broader trend of Southern accents disappearing, the AP says.
Business Insider
02-05-2025
- Lifestyle
- Business Insider
After my 30-year marriage ended, I moved to California. When it got too pricey, I built my dream life in New Orleans.
After my divorce, I moved to California, where I had a support network of friends and family. I loved it, but high prices and bad traffic pushed me out. Soon, I set my sights on New Orleans. I've built a nice life here — my living costs are lower and I met my now-husband. In 2014, my divorce required that I downsize from the Connecticut house I loved. So, I returned to my native California, where I had a support network of family and friends. I knew I'd be relocating from one expensive region to another and that it might be challenging to find something affordable. Nonetheless, I soon settled into a spacious (but pricey) apartment near the Pacific Ocean in Santa Monica, where I happily enjoyed the daily sunshine, gorgeous beaches, and company of old friends. There was much to love about Los Angeles County, but the traffic was terrible, and the area's high cost of living strained my budget. I knew I should leave California, and soon heard Louisiana calling my name. After a bit of contemplation, I moved to New Orleans My daughter lived in New Orleans, and although I had visited many times, I'd never considered moving there. Now, I began contemplating the benefits of living in the Louisiana city. First of all, I'd be near my daughter, who'd just had a baby. New Orleanians I'd encountered on my visits were incredibly friendly, and the sense of community in the city always impressed me. Plus, it's famous for its unique culture, delicious food, and legendary music. New Orleans is smaller and tends to have far less traffic than my county — something that appealed to me after spending many hours bumper-to-bumper on the Los Angeles freeways. I made up my mind about moving once I found the perfect house on a tree-lined street in the city's Upper Garden District, where I could walk to nearby restaurants and shops or hop on the streetcar to the French Quarter. Best of all, the monthly rent for my two-bedroom house with 11-foot ceilings and a backyard is less than it was for a tiny studio apartment in Santa Monica. My move came with a learning curve Moving to a new city can be challenging, and my jump to New Orleans was no exception. I have a poor sense of direction and initially had trouble getting my bearings. It doesn't help that people here seem to rarely use cardinal directions — north, south, east, and west. Instead, everything is lakeside (near Lake Pontchartrain), riverside (by the Mississippi River), upriver (uptown), or downriver (downtown). Years later, I still rely on my GPS to get around. Once I moved, I also needed to learn proper local pronunciations and lingo, which largely stems from the city's French Colonial heritage. Although I spoke French, I didn't speak Louisiana French and was soon embarrassed to find out I was mispronouncing many of the city's street names. For example, Chartres Street is actually pronounced "CHAR-turz." I knew not to refer to the city as "N'awlins" (locals hate that), but I didn't realize it was a faux pas to call New Orleans's iconic sugary Creole candy a "pray-leen" instead of a "prah-leen." Live and learn. I've also gotten familiar with humidity and hurricanes When I moved to the city in the middle of summer, I immediately had second thoughts. Los Angeles was quite dry and warm, but New Orleans was humid and hot. The city often experiences flash floods, and my car was totaled in one. In my third year here, Hurricane Ida arrived with a vengeance on the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. I evacuated north, spending several days on what many here call a "hurrication." Although I don't welcome hurricanes, I'm used to staying prepared and checking weather reports since my native California dealt with earthquakes and wildfires. With hurricanes, at least there are often advance warnings. Above all, I've built a community here and learned to embrace the city's quirks For me, there's just no place like New Orleans, and I've enjoyed building a life here for the past seven years. When I first moved, I didn't know anyone in town besides my daughter, so I made an effort to engage in the community. I joined a French conversation group, where I developed meaningful friendships. Then, I met the man who would later become my husband. He introduced me to the city's music scene, got me to try the region's spicy foods, and taught me more about the area. Admittedly, I'm still not used to the oppressive heat and humidity New Orleans summers bring — but I've learn to deal with it.
