Image depicting students on the trip and Edna Valdepeñas. Photo Credit: Susan Ross.

In today’s fast-paced, consumerist society, people are constantly chasing for more, such as bigger houses, more possessions, and greater success, without always stopping to appreciate what living with less can offer. The idea of living large, which became a central theme guiding this trip, encouraged us to think differently about what it means to live well. Rather than focusing on physical grandeur, we explored how people can live opulently through spirituality and intentional living choices. 

From January 16 to January 31, a group of 13 students and two faculty sponsors, Edna Valdepeñas and Susan Ross, embarked on a biennial service trip to New Orleans, which I had the opportunity to be part of.

Pre-Trip Preparation

Before traveling, we studied the tiny house movement, an architectural movement that gained widespread attention after the 2008 financial crisis. Initially driven by economic pressures such as rising mortgages and debt, the movement has since grown into a lifestyle that many people willingly pursue today.

Susan shared that living tiny was “not necessarily a class topic at first, but a dream of ours.” She explained that one of the core ideas behind living with less is thinking about “what that releases for you in big ways.”

When discussing the movement, Edna emphasized its broader implications.

“It’s resistance to the story we’re told, that society says we should do or must be,” she said. “You buy two, three, five cars. That’s the narrative we’re given…What I like to talk about with my students is how we can resist the power structures that tell us to do a certain thing or be a certain way that might not be right for our own lives.”

Our discussions soon expanded beyond architecture and into the idea of home itself. In one exercise, each person shared a favorite place in their home that meant something meaningful to them. Passing photos around the circle, we described why those spaces mattered.

Through this activity, we began to understand each other more deeply. The spaces we chose, whether defined by decorations, lighting, cleanliness, or personal items, revealed parts of our identities. Although everyone’s homes looked different, each space held unique value to the person who shared it.

This discussion became an important starting point. The idea of home would continue to shape our experiences throughout the trip.

Before leaving, we were also introduced to a tiny house floor plan project, where each student would design their own tiny house after the trip. With this project in mind, we began our two-week journey to New Orleans.

Living Together

During the trip, we experienced the idea of living with less with firsthand experience while staying at Aurora United Methodist Church, where our group shared limited amenities: one room for boys, one for girls, and a shared kitchen. While this was very different from our usual living conditions, the communal space brought us closer together. Instead of retreating into separate rooms, we spent far more time talking, laughing, and just getting to know one another.

Despite having fewer possessions and comforts, we realized that what we had was more than enough. Over the course of the trip, we built a strong community of 15 people, including Edna and Susan.

Reflecting on the experience, Edna said the trip reminded her “in a different way of the year-long schedule from before when we got to really know the students.”

“I really appreciated the human connections I made with my students,” she added.

The experience also raised interesting questions: Can we have multiple homes?
Is home tied to one place, or can it exist wherever meaningful connections are formed? After two weeks living together, the church began to feel like a home of its own.

During the trip, we also explored why people choose to live small by visiting different local architecture and living spaces. One example was communities living in the Batture, where residents intentionally live along riverbanks beyond governmental jurisdiction. Despite higher risks of flooding and fewer protections, people still choose to live there.

We also spent time in the French Quarter, observing architectural styles shaped by French, Spanish, and Caribbean influences. Creole townhouses and shotgun houses revealed the many ways people have adapted their living spaces over time.

Seeing this variety of homes helped inspire our own tiny house designs once we returned from the trip.

Image depicting a house on the Batture. Photo Credit: Cherry Gao ’27.

Hurricane Katrina and Service Work

When Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005, New Orleans experienced devastating loss. The hurricane became one of the deadliest in U.S. history, causing more than 1,800 deaths and displacing thousands of residents.

Even today, recovery continues.

AC de Ghellinck d’Elseghem ’26 reflected on this ongoing rebuilding process:

“It’s sad that we’re in 2026 and communities are still recovering more than 20 years later,” she said. “But it’s also good to know people still care and haven’t abandoned these communities.”

Many homes damaged during the hurricane are still being repaired or rebuilt. Seeing this reality firsthand surprised many students.

“It was actually kind of shocking,” Maggie Beck ’26 said. “I didn’t realize rebuilding was still happening.”

To support these efforts, we volunteered with two organizations focused on rebuilding homes.

Our first work site was in the Lower Ninth Ward, a historic neighborhood deeply affected when the Industrial Canal levee failed during the hurricane. After practicing basic construction skills—such as hammering, drilling, and using an impact driver—back in the Alumni Gym, we were able to apply those skills on site. Students helped stabilize roofs, install hurricane straps, and paint. Although the work was physically demanding at times, it remained meaningful.

“All the challenging moments were made really fun,” Mira Abu Tahoun ’26 said. “So it didn’t feel too hard.”

Later in the week, we volunteered with Rebuilding Together, where we painted the interior of a house. One of the most memorable moments came when the homeowner returned and thanked us personally. 

When being asked what part of the trip stood out to you, multiple people, including Maggie and Edna, expressed the instance of meeting the homeowner. 

“When we get to meet the owner, the work becomes human,” Edna said. “There’s purpose to it, not just for the sake of putting paint on or doing whatever, but we’re doing this in the service of someone else.”

Even during breaks, the atmosphere remained joyful. Volunteers shared music, danced, and ate together.

“Seeing everyone working together like that is something you don’t see a lot these days,” Mira added.

When asked what she hopes students take away from the experience long after graduation, Edna emphasized the sense of empowerment it offered to students.

“You can do small things that move mountains,” Susan said. “And it really doesn’t take that much to start.”

Image depicting students, teachers, and sponsors at Rebuilding Together. 

Cultural Excursions

Another highlight of the trip was exploring the culture of New Orleans. We attended a Mardi Gras parade, visited a jazz museum, toured historic cemeteries, walked through Congo Square, and explored a plantation site.

Image depicting a snapshot from a Mardi Gras parade. Photo Credit: Cherry Gao ’27.

As part of the English component of the trip, each student researched a site and presented it to the group when we visited. I researched the Garden District, a historic neighborhood known for its elegant mansions, gardens, and blend of architectural styles.

Before traveling, we had also read a novel about plantation farming in Louisiana. Experiencing these places in person added a deeper layer to what we had studied.

“Reading about Louisiana adds a different depth to the experience,” Edna said. “To visit a place we’ve only read about is pretty cool.”

Even the food brought our readings to life. Dishes like gumbo and boudin, which we had previously encountered only in books, suddenly became tangible cultural experiences.

Communal Cooking

Cooking became another meaningful part of our experience.

Students were divided into three cooking groups, and each group prepared dinner for everyone on different nights. Our meals included tacos, pasta, and a hearty bean stew with chicken and iced tea.

Image depicting chicken that a group of students cooked for the rest of the group. Photo Credit: Cherry Gao ’27

Cooking for fifteen people turned out to be more challenging than we expected. Shopping, preparing ingredients, cooking, and setting the table required teamwork, but the effort made each meal feel special.

Cooking together allowed students not only to collaborate but also to experience the responsibility and joy of serving others.

Returning and Reflecting

After returning from New Orleans, we began completing our tiny house designs, incorporating everything we had observed, from architecture and rebuilding efforts to our evolving ideas of home.

The project required students to design a tiny house floor plan they would realistically live in. Exterior porches did not count toward the floor space, but loft areas did. At the end of the term, students presented their designs to the community in Main.

Susan explained that the project was meant to help students “dream a little bit.”

Edna added, “Sometimes we think, ‘I don’t know if this is right.’ But if it’s yours, then yes. It’s right.”

The project encouraged students to imagine how they might want to live their lives while also recognizing real-world limitations, such as space constraints and practical design considerations.

These limitations mirrored the realities faced by many New Orleans residents after Hurricane Katrina. While people may have had dreams for their homes, those dreams were often shaped by environmental and economic realities.

Our discussions about tiny homes initially focused on voluntary simplicity. But we also realized that having the choice to live small can be a privilege.

“There are other populations,” Susan explained, “such as many elderly people, who are being forced into those situations.”

What Does Home Mean?

Ultimately, the trip pushed us to reflect on a simple but powerful question: What does home mean?

For some people, home is a physical shelter or a place necessary for survival. For others, it is something more emotional or spiritual, shaped by community, memories, and relationships.

Maggie reflected that the experience made her reconsider the idea that “more is always better.”

“Maybe minimizing my life could actually create more happiness,” she said.

For AC, home is defined by memory.

“Home to me is a place where I make a lot of memories,” she said. “It’s not necessarily where I live, but where I keep going back to.”

Mira described home as a space that reflects who we are.

“I think home is a place where you can feel like yourself,” she said. “Within every wall and every curve, it tells a little bit about who you are.”

The trip left me with one final question: if a disaster like Hurricane Katrina happened to me, what would I bring?

In the end, many things would be lost. What remains are the essentials and the things that truly matter.

This trip reminded me that we have the power not only to support others but also to shape the stories of our own lives.

Image depicting the backs of Amira Webb ’27 (left) and Mira Abu Tahoun ’26 facing a dam. Photo Credit: Cherry Gao ’27