How New Orleanians are finding healing a year into the COVID-19 pandemic
From pralines to art therapy, a look at how community members in New Orleans have been processing a tough year.
By Trevon Cole
The magic happens in Curtis “C-Style” Owens’ home kitchen in New Orleans East. He grabs a large, worn stock pot that still smells sweet from past cookings. He crowds his ingredients on a small square of counter space. Sugar. Pecans. Vanilla. Cans of evaporated milk.
The recipe for perfect pralines is in his head, learned from his uncle years ago.
“Making my candies is like a form of meditation,” said Owens, who stirs and scrapes the praline mixture in the pot like he was born doing it. “At times, I be in my zone.”
That “zone” has been a source of strength for Owens over the past year. The COVID-19 pandemic got personal when Owens’ father fell ill with the virus and was hospitalized last year. His father has since recovered. C-Style Pralines, Owens’ business, faced a slow in sales as restaurant vendors closed and local tourism fell off.
Despite all that, Owens was all smiles as he stirred the pot and prepared next-day orders on one afternoon last November. He’s been able to keep business coming in through a mix of catering and vending, and direct sales to folks in and around his neighborhood. The process of making pralines is more than a business. It’s a way for him to release stress and center himself, he said.
“Everybody has their own outlets,” Owens said. “That’s one of my forms of outlets.”
It’s been tough to find bright spots as New Orleans and cities worldwide cope with the COVID-19 pandemic. The virus hit New Orleans with deadly force last March, with a disproportionate amount of deaths in the city’s Black community. By April, the virus had killed more community members than several of New Orleans’ leading causes of death — including accidental drug overdose, homicide and Alzheimer’s disease — do in an entire year, according to The Data Center. State data showed the virus has killed more than 750 people in New Orleans as of late February this year, or about 8% of deaths reported in Louisiana. More than 28,000 community members have contracted the virus.
Thousands of people have lost jobs or had their hours cut, including much of the city’s tourism industry. Large public gatherings are still a no-go in a city known worldwide for its parades and second lines and festivals. Schools and church communities have gone virtual. Local restaurants and bars are going out of business.
At the same time, locals like Owens are finding ways to process and heal. We see it in church sermons over Zoom, virtual DJ sets and happy hours. In the way we mask up and head outdoors to share meals, watch movies and take walks. How else are New Orleanians finding joy and healing in uncertain times?
Before the pandemic, art therapist and counselor Holly Wherry spent most days working in public schools, women’s shelters and community spaces in New Orleans helping children and adults use art to tell their stories and process their thoughts and feelings. Wherry founded Whole Village Art Therapy in 2016, which now has a team of eight therapists.
Part of art therapy is about “using art as a coping skill as part of a healing journey,” Wherry explained, a need that became even more clear last March when rising COVID-19 cases closed schools, businesses and churches.
The Whole Village team was able to start delivering art supplies and food to homes and launch virtual art therapy services last April with the help of a grant. Therapy is personal and not being able to see people’s faces, read their body language or even give them a hug is tough, Wherry said. Still, it was important to keep going, she added.
Wherry said a lot of the children Whole Village works with had relatives who fell ill from the COVID-19 virus. Some had family members who died from the virus. Most spent the spring and summer of 2020 unable to see or spend time with grandparents or friends. On top of that, children were processing the killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, nationwide protests against racial injustice and police brutality, and a divisive presidential election in 2020, she said.
“All these things that have a major impact on their lives kept piling up,” Wherry said.
One Whole Village project to help community members cope included social media videos showing community members how to turn items found around the house like cereal boxes or fallen leaves into materials for artmaking. The nonprofit also offered virtual support groups for parents and caregivers juggling jobs, homeschooling and parenting. In recent months, the nonprofit has been able to bring back its community artmaking events, including in-person events held outdoors with social distancing.
Artmaking is also a personal source of healing for Wherry. Much of her work during the pandemic has featured colorful, abstract lines drawn on paper. The line drawing was meditative and using joyful vibrant colors felt like a protest against the virus and its presence in our communities, Wherry said.
“It’s a way for me to think about all the bad things that are happening, but also process them and get to a better place with my feelings. I’m contemplating everything that is whirling around me and trying to capture it in a meditative abstract image,” said Wherry, who also paints and creates pieces using found objects.
Wherry added she and the other therapists at Whole Village have been able to support each other throughout the past year.
“It’s helpful that we have each other,” she said.
The physical toll the COVID-19 pandemic has had is clear, but it could be years before we understand how the pandemic has affected mental health in New Orleans and communities nationwide. For one, the stigma associated with talking about mental illness can make it tough for health workers and researchers to get a full picture of what community members are experiencing. People don’t always recognize behaviors such as lack of appetite, mood changes or feelings of being disconnected, as signs that someone is living with mental illness.
Still, it’s clear people are coping with a lot. In March 2020, more than a third of 1,000 U.S. adults surveyed by the American Psychiatric Association reported the virus and its spread was having a significant impact on their mental health. More than two-thirds reported experiencing anxiety over the possibility of a loved one contracting the virus. Half were worried about running out of food, medicine or supplies. This year, stress levels among American adults are again on the rise after a bitter election season, political unrest and violence, and rising COVID-19 deaths, according to the American Psychological Association.
In addition, researchers have found people who are recovering from COVID-19 are twice as likely to be diagnosed with a mental health disorder such as depression, anxiety or insomnia in the months following their illness from the virus.
Communities in New Orleans, especially Black and Latinx communities, face the added pressures of living and working in a tourism-dependent economy where already low-paying work is harder to find, as well as deep inequities in income, housing and health care access worsened by the COVID-19 crisis.
Here in New Orleans, community-driven efforts to provide support and resources for residents have taken root in response. The New Orleans Musician’s Clinic launched its “You Got This” resource page and sends a weekly e-newsletter that provides self-care tips, support and mental health resources. Organizations like the Center for Hope Family Services and the University of Holy Cross are offering free telehealth services for community members who are experiencing stress and anxiety.
The National Alliance on Mental Illness New Orleans, which offers a range of services for those living with mental illness and their families, has continued hosting support groups and training via Zoom, and added virtual events like an online mental health music festival.
In addition, the Louisiana Department of Health is running a mental health hotline where residents can get access to free, confidential counseling services. Community members can access help by dialing 866–310–7977.
“The threat of COVID-19 and so many changes to our normal routines can cause a great deal of stress and anxiety,” Karen Stubbs, assistant secretary of Louisiana’s Office of Behavioral Health, said in a release announcing the hotline last March. “These are normal feelings and it’s important for each individual who is having a hard time with these emotions to reach out for help.”
If you or someone you know needs this, here’s the number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1–800–273–8255 or text HOME to the Crisis Text Line at 741741.
Back in Owens’ kitchen, the pralines are nearly done. It’s time for what Owens calls the “love stage,” that moment where he stirs the pralines and let’s the flavors meld before spreading them on a pan to cool. He moves quickly at this stage, expertly scooping the gooey praline mixture from the pot to the pan and spreading it before the candy hardens. There’s a kind of science to it, Owens notes.
Owens has been doing this so long now he wears brace on his right wrist to protect from the wear and tear hours of stirring pralines can take. It wasn’t long ago that Owens was watching his uncle, Felton Johnson, do the same thing. Owens used to just sell the pralines his uncle made. Over time, Owens picked up the craft himself. Owens remembers Johnson joking that one day he’d be too tired to show him exactly what to do and Owens would be on his own.
“Then one day he went to sleep on me. I didn’t want to wake him up, so I just had to figure it out. Before I knew it, I picked up the craft and I took it to another level,” Owens said.
Seven years later, Owens is thankful for a lot. He’s thankful for his uncle showing him the ropes. He’s thankful C-Style Pralines is staying afloat and that he gets to see people enjoying his candies. It’s important to remember those things, Owens said.
“One of my mottos is ‘Give thanks every day,’ you know? That’s what I live on,” Owens said.
Owens looks forward to a day when restaurants can safely reopen and tourists return to the city. Until then, he finds joy in handing a praline to a local customer and watching them take a minute to enjoy something sweet.
“Making candy and connecting with the people, seeing how people react to my product,” Owens said. “That makes me feel good.”
Trevon Cole is a multimedia journalist and author from Thibodaux, La., and a Lede New Orleans Fall 2020 Fellow. His work has also appeared in The Daily Comet/Houma Courier. A graduate of William Carey University, his reporting interests are in lifestyle and business.
