Making Others' Reality Our Reality

The original plan today was to help sort old Mardi Gras beads that could be reused next year.  A quick change of plans right after breakfast found us in the Ninth Ward, cleaning up a house, that almost eight years after Katrina, still has not been fixed.  We ripped down ceilings, ran wire, insulated walls, and tiled floors. 

We had a few hours to kill after we finished, so we drove more into the Ninth Ward.  Seeing the evidence Katrina still has was unbelievable.  It seems neighborhoods are just patched together.  One house still has boarded up windows and spray painted FEMA markings on the outside to identify it and the next door neighbor’s may have a brand new house.  For those who want to come home and rebuild, but can’t for one reason or another, I was told volunteers come and maintain their lawn, as the city requires it.  Neighborhoods still seem half empty despite rebuilding efforts.

Eight years ago, I remember being glued to the television as Katrina unfolded.  Left speechless at what was happening, I finally had to just turn it off and not allow myself to live in sadness for things I could not control.  After driving through the Ninth Ward today, the things I felt back in 2005 came back.  I felt anger at people for not helping. I felt guilt for not doing more.  I felt overwhelming heartbreak for individuals affected.  Coming back to our camp, I looked up old news coverage and pictures during the time that Katrina was hitting.  I struggled to remember what I did outside of donating money for the occasional fundraiser that was in front of me. 

As we helped rebuild one of the homes in the Ninth Ward today, I was able to speak to the homeowner.  She talked about her family, now scattered in and outside of New Orleans.  She spoke about her experience, finding her fridge floating in the master bedroom during the flooding.  She talked about her mother’s home being lifted off the foundation and swept two streets over.  She talked about neighborhoods and lives that had been changed forever because of the devastation that could have been prevented on so many levels.  She talked about the bus rides people took hoping to go to their homes, but finding nothing there. 

After touring the Whitney Plantation yesterday and then seeing parts of the Ninth Ward, I am developing a more complete understanding of the way racism has played into NOLA’s histories.  I am so grateful for the opportunity to confront these difficult issues and their consequences unfold. It is never too late to pick up and begin working alongside our neighbors.  Sometimes opportunities to help pass without getting a second thought from us.  When Katrina hit, I retreated into a protected, comfortable shell.  That shell has broken as I not only see the devastation that happened in August 2005, but the bigger picture of what led to it. 

-Michelle C.

Ruiling and Nicole prepare to lay tile.  Photo Credit: Sydney L.