It’s not resilience; it’s capitalism's brutal and unceasing demands.

The immediate expectation of resilience from New Orleans is another reminder that the city sits in a sacrifice zone.

For over a century, the rest of the country has sacrificed Louisiana’s water, air, and wetlands to provide cheaper oil and gas and meet commercial trade needs. The state and federal governments have sacrificed more than 40 billion of Louisiana tax dollars to petrochemical companies through subsidies.

Now, New Orleans is expected to sacrifice its grief to make visitors more comfortable. 

Grief is an interruption to business as usual, a heaviness that slows down daily life. 

Grief is intimate, which makes it uncomfortable for people standing near but still outside of it– for visitors. 

Grief is inhospitable.

Ceremoniously reopening Bourbon Street within a day of the attack is a move to put the visitors at ease–to help them feel less terrible about walking through a memorial while drinking a Huge Ass Beer or a Hand Grenade. It gives them permission to yell “Go Dawgs!” as they pregame for the Sugar Bowl while grieving families lay flowers along the street and employees–still in shock–come in for another shift because they have to return to work.

It lets visitors know that if they decide to come for Mardi Gras or the Super Bowl, the city’s grief won’t be a buzzkill for their vacation. It reminds visitors that their tourist dollars are in good hands and that the city won’t rain on their parade.

Ceremoniously reopening Bourbon Street within a day of the attack speaks more to the resiliency of capitalism than it does to the resiliency of the city.