I went to the Lower Ninth Ward in New Orleans last week.

If you can imagine acute poverty patch-worked in with overgrown southern jungle, then maybe the Lower Nine won’t unsettle you the way it did me.

I’ve always thought of poverty as being loud. Traffic and corner stores. Voices yelling and music playing from an apartment on another floor. But in the Lower Ninth Ward, sometimes the only sounds I hear are the tires of my rental car passing over the ruptured pavement and my own breath as I peer out the window.

On behalf of Millennials: #sorrynotsorry

You know the familiar refrain: Millennials are lazy and narcissistic, overly sensitive to criticism, and so dependent on smart phones that we can't have a real conversation. It's so familiar that even we Millennials join in with vehement insults of our own—followed by hasty expressions of how distant we feel from the rest of our entitled generation. 

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why to we allow others to state these stereotypes and leave them unchallenged?