TOURISM IN FUTURE NEW ORLEANS: What’s Next for the French Quarter? By Leigh Wright
Writing an article a month before it will be published is difficult in an ordinary time; however, this year, we all know, is not ordinary. As of now, the pandemic is still raging in the media as the city’s COVID-19 infection and death numbers thankfully drop. Who knows how the city and the country will be different as the summer heat gets put to sleep by our enthusiasm for dark liquor and hot gumbo? One thing is for sure: The times, they are a-changin’. Looking toward the New Orleans of the future, we need to understand how our citizens feel and think about its current state. The city, but especially the touristcentric French Quarter, turned into a ghost town in the early stages of lockdown, with restaurants and businesses shuttering—some closing for cleaning and others boarding up their windows forever. Laws and mandates change by the day, and while we have been locked away in our homes, the city’s lawmakers have been at work. Reduced restaurant capacity, a temporary restriction on the sale of to-go drinks, and a dramatic fall in short-term rentals all circled around, creating a vastly different environment for the hospitality industry. We need to take stock of our tourism industry as it currently stands. According to a 2018 report by nonprofit organization JFF (Jobs for the Future), 72,000 people work in the hospitality industry in New Orleans. Their jobs and lives were destroyed, with many sent home indefinitely on what should have been a normal day in March. Now, seven months into a tumultuous pandemic, service-industry workers are sharing spreadsheets and programs on social media to try to help each other navigate unemployment benefits. The community is rising to help where the political structure has failed. For many, the debate over how to protect workers versus keeping a city running is murky. One server from a French Quarter steakhouse, who chose to remain anonymous, has not set foot in his workplace since COVID-19 began. What started as the necessity of claiming unemployment benefits due to job cutbacks slowly turned into a distrust of
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the government (national, regional, and local) to provide adequate plans and safety for workers. “There is no God,” he dramatically laments. What he is revealing is a dramatic existence, symbolic to spiraling down Dante’s nine circles. Every day is the same as the last and the next one. What began as a high ride on economic security and safety is now a slow crawl back to a zero-sum bank account. While his co-workers have gone back to work—with one becoming sick—he has refused to return. “It’s not worth it to me, and I don’t feel safe. You have to rely on so many people to conform, and when I walk outside my house, I have people sneezing without masks on the street.” As many criticize these workers, it is actually their distrust of the safety systems themselves that keep them at home. Another common story is from Katherin Griffin, a former bartender at Bayou Wine Garden. Although not centrally located in the heart of tourist country, this Mid-City favorite garners massive crowds of locals, Endymion-parade tourists, and Jazz Fest-ers. The Wine Garden and its original sister, Bayou Beer Garden, have both been closed since March, meaning that a majority of the staff and management have been out of jobs. “Now, the bulk of the service industry in New Orleans is competing for the few jobs left available in a drastically changed market,” Griffin says. The economic toll is apparent, but the underlying emotional toll is harder to see. She continues, talking about her regulars who would follow her from job to job: “These
