Part of my job description is to spend some time indulging in what this next generation of young people want to do with their life. 99% of the time I'm traveling around the country to hear their stories. As such, my most recent recruiting trip landed me in the beautiful city of New Orleans. A place enriched with culture, cobblestone streets and beignets so good you would consider it a sin to eat anything else.
It wasn't until I stumbled across a no named stranger in the French Quarter that I felt like I was in the right direction. I found the anonymous street Guru strumming a very loud and yet very poetic melody coming from his very cool looking guitar. The vengeance in his voice could be heard up and down Royal street. Upon further investigation, I discovered a gentle, cowering guy just out doing his job.
The two of us engaged in casual conversation after I snapped a few shots. Either it was giving his angry tunes or I simply got lost walking that night, but we managed to sit down a couple more times that evening. At one point, this young man stopped playing to enjoy the taste of his drink. He asked where I was from. I'm always one to be a little reluctant to admit I'm from Columbus, Ohio. This guy had been to Columbus before. He went ahead and explained his experience as "I was robbed by a couple crackheads". Blown by his brief description of his trip I reached in my pocket to retrieve some money for the homie. He extends his hand to reject my generosity as he explains that all he needed was enough money for a bite to eat and pay rent. I asked him is there anything else he needed and he mumbles as he gazes off into the distance, "I made my quota for the day.”