Living in Baton Rouge
In the before times, when I met a visitor to the church who had just moved to Baton Rouge, I’d tell that that it takes about 2 years to get over the culture shock and sadness of the city to find the real true great parts of living here. I can’t say what the pandemic has done to that, but for the most part it seems to hold up.
Baton Rouge is a complicated town. The poverty is perversely visible. Louisiana is one of the richest states in natural resources and culture, but it so freely gives away its wealth to corporations and the modern day equivalent of enslavers that there is little left for many of its residents.
The racism is on full display. There are almost no grocery stores in the black part of town. Hell, there are not even guard rails at railroad crossings in a lot of black Baton Rouge. The school system is 83% black because most white families have opted to put their kids in mostly white private schools.
Most of the pollution in the country, produced in the 70 mile stretch of the Mississippi River between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, comes from the petro-chemical industry. Most of those chemical plants are located on former plantations and located right next to all black towns. The cancer rates in these communities are unbelievably high.
The chemical industry has a stranglehold on much of the public discourse and are well entrenched into the legislature. Also, many congregants livelihood comes from these same plants.
Navigating hurricanes and more constant flooding is a reality. In the last 5 years more than 80 members of the church have flooded in one of 3 major flooding events. In 2020 there were 5 hurricanes that hit Louisiana and last season Hurricane Ida came 20 miles away from delivering a devastating blow to the city. If you move here, you will have to be prepared for an evacuation culture.
The people you will serve are a traumatized and exhausted people, but you may not know that from talking to them. Their joy and hospitality permeates the culture. Some of these tendencies are, of course, coping mechanisms, but there is a genuine bone-deep love for living down here.
Baton Rouge is not New Orleans. It’s not Acadiana. It is its own strange collision of culture from all over the state. It has Cajun elements and New Orleans elements. You can watch world class zydeco and brass bands for free downtown.
The food here is out of this world. I still haven’t been able to figure out why – probably because the chemical industry and universities attract so many people from other countries – but the Middle Eastern and Indian food here is some of the best I’ve ever had.
Baton Rouge is the slam poetry capital of the world. It has a small but growing Mardi Gras culture. Both LSU and Southern University bring in world class speakers and thinkers. Both schools also have a strong football culture that the city bends towards in ways that are hard to describe.
The Whitney Plantation – the plantation that, by inverting the entire experience of a plantation visit so that you see the plantation from the eyes of the enslaved, fundamentally changed the way plantations are viewed – is less than an hour’s drive from the city.
The library and park systems here are some of the best in the country (seriously!). As complicated as the schools are, there are truly phenomenal public school options. My 4-year-old is in a public Montessori Magnet school, for example. The school rating systems, which are set up to evaluate how white a school is, will never truly reflect the quality of some of the schools. Also, please remember that this is a very impoverished city. As such, many of the schools lack adequate resources.
Baton Rouge is small enough that you will run into congregants at almost every city-wide event. And yet it is big enough to have most of the things you can expect from mid-sized cities.
Also, being located in the state capital, there are unique opportunities for real and profound political change. Unlike many of the surrounding states where its populace fight with each other, Louisianians tend to be more laid back. If you get 20 people at a protest, you’re doing good. That means that while it is hard to stoke enough enthusiasm for a movement, there is also very little mobilized opposition.
Overall, this is a confusing place to live. I’m from here, and most of my mental and spiritual energy is spent trying to figure out this place and its people. The people here are used to saviors coming in, messing around with things for a few years, and then leaving – usually with things worse than when they arrived. Please please please, if you are planning to come, please show up as culturally humble. There is a lot to learn from this place. I’m still learning plenty.
Baton Rouge is a complicated town. The poverty is perversely visible. Louisiana is one of the richest states in natural resources and culture, but it so freely gives away its wealth to corporations and the modern day equivalent of enslavers that there is little left for many of its residents.
The racism is on full display. There are almost no grocery stores in the black part of town. Hell, there are not even guard rails at railroad crossings in a lot of black Baton Rouge. The school system is 83% black because most white families have opted to put their kids in mostly white private schools.
Most of the pollution in the country, produced in the 70 mile stretch of the Mississippi River between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, comes from the petro-chemical industry. Most of those chemical plants are located on former plantations and located right next to all black towns. The cancer rates in these communities are unbelievably high.
The chemical industry has a stranglehold on much of the public discourse and are well entrenched into the legislature. Also, many congregants livelihood comes from these same plants.
Navigating hurricanes and more constant flooding is a reality. In the last 5 years more than 80 members of the church have flooded in one of 3 major flooding events. In 2020 there were 5 hurricanes that hit Louisiana and last season Hurricane Ida came 20 miles away from delivering a devastating blow to the city. If you move here, you will have to be prepared for an evacuation culture.
The people you will serve are a traumatized and exhausted people, but you may not know that from talking to them. Their joy and hospitality permeates the culture. Some of these tendencies are, of course, coping mechanisms, but there is a genuine bone-deep love for living down here.
Baton Rouge is not New Orleans. It’s not Acadiana. It is its own strange collision of culture from all over the state. It has Cajun elements and New Orleans elements. You can watch world class zydeco and brass bands for free downtown.
The food here is out of this world. I still haven’t been able to figure out why – probably because the chemical industry and universities attract so many people from other countries – but the Middle Eastern and Indian food here is some of the best I’ve ever had.
Baton Rouge is the slam poetry capital of the world. It has a small but growing Mardi Gras culture. Both LSU and Southern University bring in world class speakers and thinkers. Both schools also have a strong football culture that the city bends towards in ways that are hard to describe.
The Whitney Plantation – the plantation that, by inverting the entire experience of a plantation visit so that you see the plantation from the eyes of the enslaved, fundamentally changed the way plantations are viewed – is less than an hour’s drive from the city.
The library and park systems here are some of the best in the country (seriously!). As complicated as the schools are, there are truly phenomenal public school options. My 4-year-old is in a public Montessori Magnet school, for example. The school rating systems, which are set up to evaluate how white a school is, will never truly reflect the quality of some of the schools. Also, please remember that this is a very impoverished city. As such, many of the schools lack adequate resources.
Baton Rouge is small enough that you will run into congregants at almost every city-wide event. And yet it is big enough to have most of the things you can expect from mid-sized cities.
Also, being located in the state capital, there are unique opportunities for real and profound political change. Unlike many of the surrounding states where its populace fight with each other, Louisianians tend to be more laid back. If you get 20 people at a protest, you’re doing good. That means that while it is hard to stoke enough enthusiasm for a movement, there is also very little mobilized opposition.
Overall, this is a confusing place to live. I’m from here, and most of my mental and spiritual energy is spent trying to figure out this place and its people. The people here are used to saviors coming in, messing around with things for a few years, and then leaving – usually with things worse than when they arrived. Please please please, if you are planning to come, please show up as culturally humble. There is a lot to learn from this place. I’m still learning plenty.