There are cities that feel like living museums, and then there’s New Orleans — a place where history dances in the streets, trumpets blare from corner bars, and the culture refuses to be confined to the past. This past weekend, I had the privilege of experiencing two of the city’s most iconic celebrations for the very first time: Jazz Fest on Sunday, April 27, and Shorty Fest on Monday, April 28. And somewhere between the music and the food, I realized this wasn’t just a trip — it was a baptism.

Jazz Fest, held at the New Orleans Fair Grounds, is a sensory overload in the best way imaginable. Music from every direction, the smell of fried shrimp po’boys in the air, Mardi Gras Indians parading through the crowds — it’s impossible not to get swept up in it. What makes Jazz Fest different from any other festival isn’t just the lineup (though it’s world-class). It’s the spirit. It’s a celebration of survival, creativity, and the joy of simply being alive.

But it was Shorty Fest Presented By Acura that truly captured the heart of why New Orleans is unlike anywhere else. Organized by the Trombone Shorty Foundation, the event is both a fundraiser and a community celebration, bringing together local legends, rising stars, and the students who represent the city's musical future. Now in its 12th year, Shorty Fest is a joyful extension of the foundation’s mission: preserving and perpetuating the rich musical traditions of New Orleans.

The evening started outside Tipitina’s, where the street was blocked off for a free Cultural Block Party. Families, locals, and visitors gathered under the spring sky, dancing to live music, visiting food trucks, and cheering on the students from the Trombone Shorty Academy. Later, inside the historic Tipitina’s venue, the main event unfolded with performances by Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue, Black Opry Revue, Dogs in a Pile, and special guests like Robert Randolph and Jake Clemons of the E Street Band. It was a perfect blend of seasoned talent and young blood — exactly what Shorty envisioned when he launched the foundation.

Trombone Shorty, born Troy Andrews, created the foundation after Hurricane Katrina made it painfully clear that the generational, organic passing down of New Orleans music could easily be lost. Determined to keep the city’s unique sound alive, he launched an academy where young musicians not only learn technical skills but also absorb the soul, discipline, and history behind the notes. The foundation’s reach extends far beyond Tremé, touching students from across the city and surrounding areas.

Key to the success of Shorty Fest and the foundation is the support of longtime partners, including Acura, which has backed the event since 2016. Their sponsorship doesn’t just fund programming — it provides crucial resources like free transportation for students to attend the academy, ensuring that no young talent is left behind because of circumstance. During my trip, I also had the chance to test-drive the all-new 2025 Acura ADX, a stylish new SUV that — like the festival itself — was all about blending performance with heart. And needless to say, it was hard to let go of the car, just as it was hard to leave New Orleans.

This year’s Shorty Fest also included a special moment honoring New Orleans drumming legend Shannon Powell, who was inducted into Tipitina’s “Walk of Fame.” It was a reminder that preserving culture isn’t just about nurturing the future — it’s about honoring those who paved the way.

What struck me most throughout the weekend was how deeply interconnected everything felt. Jazz Fest celebrates the soul of New Orleans on a global stage, while Shorty Fest roots you directly in the community — in its clubs, its streets, its children, its future.

In a city that has survived disaster, displacement, and endless attempts at erasure, music isn’t just entertainment. It’s defiance. It’s healing. It’s the drumbeat that keeps the city moving forward.

After just one weekend, it was clear: New Orleans doesn’t just survive. It celebrates. It hands you a trumpet, throws you into the parade, and says, Keep up — or get swept up.