An excited crowd jammed into The Saenger Theatre on a chilly Monday morning for the inauguration of the 63rd Mayor of New Orleans, Helena Nancy Moreno. As attendees found their seats, a brass band hummed a powerful rendition of the Eurythmics' “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).”
The ceremonial proceedings began and carried on with a desperate optimism, a shared sense that the incoming administration cannot afford to default on its campaign promises.
“We stand here at a turning point,” Moreno said during her inaugural address. “We face challenging times. And we must be clear that failure is not an option. Not anymore. There’s just too much at stake… It’s time for a new direction.”
A day prior to delivering this speech, Jonathan Martin of Politico published a column: “Helena Moreno and the New Orleans Comeback Everyone Is Watching.”
Martin points out that Moreno’s victory — largely overshadowed on the national stage by the buzz of New York socialist candidate Zohran Mamdani and two high-profile gubernatorial races — will likely bind itself to the national consciousness over time. Or at the very least, Martin believes Moreno’s leadership and the unfolding story here in New Orleans ought not be hidden from the national lens.
To illustrate Moreno’s success, his article pulls in numerous threads. One of her greatest achievements, Martin explains, was the effort to communicate with, enliven, and build support from a wide network of political factions, many of which stand at odds.
“Even more striking was the coalition she forged to win in the first round of balloting, harnessing support from prominent Uptown Donald Trump donors, DSA hipsters and, most significantly, Black voters across the city,” Martin writes. “Moreno’s coalition is also a testament to her own sweat equity. Combining name (and face) ID from her years as a local TV anchor and a history as a state representative and leader on the city council, she showed up at everything but the opening of an envelope.”
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The crowd at Moreno’s inauguration reflected her commitment to the big-tent turnout of Election Day.
The ceremony featured Republican Congressman & House Majority Leader Steve Scalise appearing side-by-side with Democrat Congressman Troy Carter. A portion of the ceremony was dedicated to an interfaith prayer session with rabbis, priests, reverends, imams, and pastors from around the city.
Over the course of the ceremony, appearing either on screen or on stage, were a litany of figures from New Orleans and across the Bayou State: LaToya Cantrell, Trombone Shorty, Marc Morial, The Soul Rebels, Emeril & EJ Lagasse, Mitch Landrieu, Big Freedia, Kamala Harris, Gayle Benson, just to mention a few.
A common refrain echoed through the ceremony, the same way it budded and blossomed during the campaign and transition phase: We can’t afford leaders who won't be “ALL IN” for the people of New Orleans.
Former Vice President Kamala Harris introduced Moreno and stated in her closing remarks, “Helena, I know you will be a mayor who will lead with integrity, with courage, and with the people of New Orleans always at the center of your work.”
Moments later, Harris swore Moreno in as the 63rd leader of New Orleans. Then she took to the podium to deliver her inaugural address.
Moreno chose to craft the theme of her speech around a Biblical passage from the book of 1st Corinthians (13:13), which reads, “And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”
Paraphrasing the verse, Moreno stated, “So with the confidence of faith, with the commitment of hope, and the deep love for our beautiful city, I make this solid promise to you: I am all in for New Orleans.”
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Now, a city caught in the midst of financial turbulence, fermenting infrastructure, a handful of lifeless departments, and a thinning population gets to witness what a self-proclaimed “ALL IN,” “24/7” candidate looks like.
To date, it’d be a challenge to disprove Moreno’s ambition and her desire to aggressively manage the struggling city of New Orleans. Upon leaving her inauguration, Moreno immediately took off to City Hall to conduct meetings, issue over a dozen executive orders, and reverse a handful of executive orders made by her predecessor, Mayor LaToya Cantrell.
So, rather than doubt if Moreno cares to be up for the task, maybe a better question can be borrowed from a different passage of 1st Corinthians (9:22): How will New Orleans' new mayor deal with the incoming demand for her, as St. Paul writes, “to become all things to all people?”
How will she juggle an onslaught of contrasting needs from the broad coalition she worked so hard to forge? And when the time comes to choose between deciding to reward one faction over another, how will she handle making unpleasant decisions in a way that keeps the pistons of city government firing? At the state level, how will she—a blue mayor of a blue city—work alongside a staunchly republican governor and state legislature to both communicate and represent the will of the people who elected her while maintaining political goodwill in order to accomplish an agenda that allows New Orleans to flourish?
Martin’s column rightly points out that Moreno has already displayed finesse in reaching across aisles in Baton Rouge to manage New Orleans’ budget crisis, something that offers plenty of space for optimism. But in a city that's become so accustomed to being stuck in the mire, can she manage to avoid a reversion to chronic deadlock?
Although brief, Moreno did not fail to comment on the inevitability of criticism and struggles in her speech, saying, “I know that as your mayor, I will certainly be scrutinized, and my success measured by outcomes. But let me be clear. The biggest outcome for me is that you can always call New Orleans home. And for those who have moved away, you can begin to see that now is the opportunity to come back.”