We worked in a FEMA trailerpark today, interviewing dozens of residents whose lives were washed away and who are living in an inconceivable kind of limbo. Two things were striking: the aching loneliness of those who were living in such close quarters and yet never spoke to each other, and the hope which persisted despite the endless passage of days in a small, sweaty, moldy space that shook with the rain.
One man we talked to was living with his son and working a job in addition to rebuilding his home. His wife and other children were living two hours away in Baton Rouge because FEMA had given them a trailer too small to fit their large family. So he travels to be with them on weekends and returns to his trailer to work during the week. After speaking to us briefly about the foot of mold under his bed and FEMA's failure to respond to his calls, he shifted to a subject clearly more pressing on his mind. He poured his heart out to us about his concern for his children and what kind of people they would be without their father there when they needed him. He spoke of a desire to be there to teach them about taking care of themselves and their family, going to school, staying out of trouble, being respectful of others, and working hard for the things they want. He spoke of his fear that other people perceived his children as "bad" or "dangerous" because they were from New Orleans. He himself had lied about his birth city when asked by people in Baton Rouge. He missed his wife and the daily activities they pursued with their children. But he was hopeful and grateful for what he had, and that his family had survived the storm.
It has been suggested many times in the various media outlets that the people of New Orleans are criminals, looters, and freeloaders. That their problems stem from their race and not from a horrible natural disaster or the horrendous negligence of the government. That they are probably "better off" now that their homes have been washed away. I can tell you without a doubt in my heart that none of this is true. The man we spoke with is one of many people who are hardworking, honest, and hopeful, despite the fact that the events of the past year and the responses of some have given them every reason not to be. The man we spoke to was concerned about keeping his family together, supporting his wife in her grief, and making sure that his children grow up to be good people. He works one job, and then comes home to another as he rebuilds what was lost. He is the American that many talk about wistfully but disregard with the second news cycle.
If I can impress any one thing upon the people who read our blog, it is this: there is despair in this city, there is deep sadness and anger, a sense of loss that no one can understand unless they've lived it, there is a sense of abandonment, and there is profound isolation even in the most crowded of spaces. But there is above all a sense of humor (dry and ironic though it may be), a sense of pride, and a sense of hope that blooms where it could not possibly be expected to grow.
This place has been forgotten. But it is America as I've never seen it before. And it is America with a persistence and pride which brings me to tears.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Monday, March 12, 2007
Cemeteries and Graveyards
Yesterday we visited a New Orleans cemetery. Tombs lined up close to each other, some of them stacked five tombs high. The tombs celebrate years of life and display remnants a loved one's visit.
Today we visited a graveyard. Shells of homes comprised the headstones
that dot an open field of green grass and crisscross the abandoned streets where livelihoods were washed away and hopes were bulldozed. A few survivors dwell among the scattered headstones: Rebuilding, rebuilding, rebuilding. Although one neighborhood may be alive with contractors rebuilding, rebuilding, and rebuilding, another is eerily quiet, with two homes standing rebuilt among a landscape of ruin.
Five hundred and fifty law students descended on these graveyards this week. 150 of us sought to gather the stories of New Orleans' residents seemingly forgotten in their FEMA trailers. Eighteen months after The Storm, the few homeowners who have been awarded a grant to rebuild from The Road Home project still await the elusive money. The Road Home project allocates billions of dollars pledged by Congress to aid the rebuilding efforts of survivors. Yet, those who qualify are those who owned a home. Those who have historically been left behind -- by segregation and during the evacuation -- continue to be left behind. They are treading water in the waiting pool, with no land to stand on.
Citizens who chose to stay in New Orleans and were later forced to evacuate their rented homes languish in FEMA trailer parks scattered throughout the city under highway overpasses and in other sections
of space no one cares to inhabit. Residents of these semi-permanent parks inhabit a space of 250 square feet. Of the 100,000+ people who may qualify and have applied to the Road Home, only 3,000 have been repaid for their loss.
Today we visited a graveyard. Shells of homes comprised the headstones
that dot an open field of green grass and crisscross the abandoned streets where livelihoods were washed away and hopes were bulldozed. A few survivors dwell among the scattered headstones: Rebuilding, rebuilding, rebuilding. Although one neighborhood may be alive with contractors rebuilding, rebuilding, and rebuilding, another is eerily quiet, with two homes standing rebuilt among a landscape of ruin.Five hundred and fifty law students descended on these graveyards this week. 150 of us sought to gather the stories of New Orleans' residents seemingly forgotten in their FEMA trailers. Eighteen months after The Storm, the few homeowners who have been awarded a grant to rebuild from The Road Home project still await the elusive money. The Road Home project allocates billions of dollars pledged by Congress to aid the rebuilding efforts of survivors. Yet, those who qualify are those who owned a home. Those who have historically been left behind -- by segregation and during the evacuation -- continue to be left behind. They are treading water in the waiting pool, with no land to stand on.
Citizens who chose to stay in New Orleans and were later forced to evacuate their rented homes languish in FEMA trailer parks scattered throughout the city under highway overpasses and in other sections
of space no one cares to inhabit. Residents of these semi-permanent parks inhabit a space of 250 square feet. Of the 100,000+ people who may qualify and have applied to the Road Home, only 3,000 have been repaid for their loss.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
First Impressions
Our goal today was to immerse ourselves in the heart of the city, and really see for ourselves the current state of New Orleans. Since it was a warm southern day, we all rented bikes in the French Quarter and split up in two groups to explore. Our group headed down through a relatively nice, very "French" neighboorhood until we reached the Mississippi River at Audubom park. To our delight, we were delayed due to a church parade through a residential area. From there we headed up through Tulane University, which is an extremely beautiful campus, although almost entirely brand new because they suffered significant damage from Katrina.
Things changed on the other side of Tulane. We began to ride by adandoned homes, some with their windows boarded, some with water-damaged rubble on their sidewalks. Eerily, there were few people on the streets, almost like a ghostown. As we continued on our ride, we began to see the worst destruction. Few homes were rebuilt and most were deserted. At one point, we decided to take a photograph of a brown-colored watermark on a white garage to capture how high the water had actually risen. Simultaneoulsy we felt the same thing: that were were tourists sighseeing the effects of the worst natural catastrophe in the U.S. that affected the lives of hundreds of people. Then two of us decided to enter a deserted home whose front door was open. Each of us immediately noticed the two wooden ceiling fans, probably located in what was once a dining room, that were oddly bent out of shape like a wet noodle probably because of water damage. Later, we both discussed how awkward it was to step inside the home of a family who once depended on it for their security and comfort, who spent their money to buy it and develop it over the years.
We biked passed the spot where the 17th street levee breached, and looking at the layout, there was no question in our minds that any break in the levee would pose a substantial risk of flooding. The water lines were phenomenally high, and it was hard to imagine people struggling to find safety, and not being able to even find it on their roofs. Two people we met later in the day were telling stories us from the hurricane and the aftermath. This woman was telling us how a friend of hers was stranded on her rooftop for two days, and when she was finally rescued, she was dropped off on the highway. Her friend described US Army treating citizens like dogs, chucking water and food at them without stopping to see if they needed help.
These people also discussed with us how rough it has been in New Orleans in the last year and a half since the Hurricane. Our male friend knew 46 people who have committed suicide since then, and our female friend said that the Hurricane was really hard on her 12 year old son, who is currently on suicide watch. In case our first impressions and exploration casted any doubt in our minds that this city is really decaying, their stories really brought back the human element, and made us realize that even if some houses are rebuilt, people are still mentally affected and displaced from the Hurricane. Our friends said it best: they feel forgotten about.
Things changed on the other side of Tulane. We began to ride by adandoned homes, some with their windows boarded, some with water-damaged rubble on their sidewalks. Eerily, there were few people on the streets, almost like a ghostown. As we continued on our ride, we began to see the worst destruction. Few homes were rebuilt and most were deserted. At one point, we decided to take a photograph of a brown-colored watermark on a white garage to capture how high the water had actually risen. Simultaneoulsy we felt the same thing: that were were tourists sighseeing the effects of the worst natural catastrophe in the U.S. that affected the lives of hundreds of people. Then two of us decided to enter a deserted home whose front door was open. Each of us immediately noticed the two wooden ceiling fans, probably located in what was once a dining room, that were oddly bent out of shape like a wet noodle probably because of water damage. Later, we both discussed how awkward it was to step inside the home of a family who once depended on it for their security and comfort, who spent their money to buy it and develop it over the years.
We biked passed the spot where the 17th street levee breached, and looking at the layout, there was no question in our minds that any break in the levee would pose a substantial risk of flooding. The water lines were phenomenally high, and it was hard to imagine people struggling to find safety, and not being able to even find it on their roofs. Two people we met later in the day were telling stories us from the hurricane and the aftermath. This woman was telling us how a friend of hers was stranded on her rooftop for two days, and when she was finally rescued, she was dropped off on the highway. Her friend described US Army treating citizens like dogs, chucking water and food at them without stopping to see if they needed help.
These people also discussed with us how rough it has been in New Orleans in the last year and a half since the Hurricane. Our male friend knew 46 people who have committed suicide since then, and our female friend said that the Hurricane was really hard on her 12 year old son, who is currently on suicide watch. In case our first impressions and exploration casted any doubt in our minds that this city is really decaying, their stories really brought back the human element, and made us realize that even if some houses are rebuilt, people are still mentally affected and displaced from the Hurricane. Our friends said it best: they feel forgotten about.
Friday, March 9, 2007
A Different Lens
It's less than twelve hours before Hastings Hurricane Relief begins its journey to New Orleans. My suitcase is tighly packed with a laptop, books, clothing, and, of course, Cutter spray for potential mosquito attacks! As certain as I am about the contents of my suitcase, though, I cannot, no matter how hard I try, prepare for what I'll witness and feel once in New Orleans. It's like trying to remember the contours of someone's face whom you haven't seen in years. Sure, I've seen the pictures of the overturned cars and destroyed homes. I've seen the media coverage of people exiting the Superdome only to linger in the sun for days until relief arrived.
But, how will I react to the stories I hear, the sites I see, and the residents I meet in New Orleans? Will I be angry, sad, hopeful for things to come, disappointed, or amazed at the resilience New Orleaneans have demonstrated? I suspect that I'll experience each. I've been to third-world countries before, but I've never been to an area where lives have forever changed because of a major natural disaster. I generally associate economics, politics, education, and natural resources as the reasons for an area's financial and social demise - not a hurricane.
In the days after September 11, 2001 I traveled to dowtown Manhattan where the Twin Towers were previously located. I was very familiar with the area pre-9/11 since I grew up in Queens, traveled often the city when I was younger, and attended college a few blocks away. If you can imagine walking down a street and not recognize many of the reference points you knew for so long then you can imagine what I experienced. I believe that is precisely how New Orleaneans felt immediately after Hurricane Katrina. Unlike the downtown area of Manhattan that was mostly occupied by businesses, however, families lived in most of the areas devasted by Katrina.
Despite the devastation that affected so many, I remain hopeful that New Orleaneans, through their own efforts and the assistance of others, will rebuild their communities to regain the lives they once knew.
It's wonderful to have the opportunity to work with such a dedicated group of students who truly want to make a difference by helping those in need.
To the journey!
Nadim
But, how will I react to the stories I hear, the sites I see, and the residents I meet in New Orleans? Will I be angry, sad, hopeful for things to come, disappointed, or amazed at the resilience New Orleaneans have demonstrated? I suspect that I'll experience each. I've been to third-world countries before, but I've never been to an area where lives have forever changed because of a major natural disaster. I generally associate economics, politics, education, and natural resources as the reasons for an area's financial and social demise - not a hurricane.
In the days after September 11, 2001 I traveled to dowtown Manhattan where the Twin Towers were previously located. I was very familiar with the area pre-9/11 since I grew up in Queens, traveled often the city when I was younger, and attended college a few blocks away. If you can imagine walking down a street and not recognize many of the reference points you knew for so long then you can imagine what I experienced. I believe that is precisely how New Orleaneans felt immediately after Hurricane Katrina. Unlike the downtown area of Manhattan that was mostly occupied by businesses, however, families lived in most of the areas devasted by Katrina.
Despite the devastation that affected so many, I remain hopeful that New Orleaneans, through their own efforts and the assistance of others, will rebuild their communities to regain the lives they once knew.
It's wonderful to have the opportunity to work with such a dedicated group of students who truly want to make a difference by helping those in need.
To the journey!
Nadim
Apprehension..and the Freedom to Fly
We were talking last night about our hopes and fears for the trip and I was struck by the optimism and kindness which pervades this group of people. Everyone voiced a desire to come away from this upcoming week with a sense that we actually did something useful and contribute something positive. It was wonderful to hear a group of law students sounding like public servants. This is what we're here for, but it's easy to lose sight of that in the law school milieu.
I was also struck by the incredible generosity of the people who contributed to our trip and to the people we hope to befriend and help down in New Orleans. I have never seen such an outpouring of care.
I can't predict what this week will be like, but I'm confident that the combined earnestness and goodwill of the people in this group will be sufficient to make something real happen. And I'm excited to meet the other students who will be there who feel the same.
Here's to a week of astonishing sadness and anger, but also to the great hope of what people can do for each other.
I was also struck by the incredible generosity of the people who contributed to our trip and to the people we hope to befriend and help down in New Orleans. I have never seen such an outpouring of care.
I can't predict what this week will be like, but I'm confident that the combined earnestness and goodwill of the people in this group will be sufficient to make something real happen. And I'm excited to meet the other students who will be there who feel the same.
Here's to a week of astonishing sadness and anger, but also to the great hope of what people can do for each other.
Monday, March 5, 2007
NOLA Bound!
Less than a week before we leave and we just got our assignment from the Student Hurricane Network: we’re going to New Orleans! The Student Hurricane Network (SHN) is a completely student-created, nationwide group of students who have placed delegations from over 70 law schools in volunteer placements assisting survivors of Hurricane Katrina. We begin our project on March 12, with 400 other students from law schools across the country. This will be the first delegation of students from Hastings to volunteer in the Gulf Region.
The past two months have been a real whirlwind for Hastings Hurricane Relief. We began only three months ago, in December, and have raised about $3500 since then. In a frenzy of activity, we raised money while providing educational opportunities. At our first event, fellow students proved that they care about pro bono activities created by students. The next week was more educational; we screened the first act of Spike Lee’s When the Levees Broke and featured a panel of informed and inspiring speakers from Golden Gate University, the Equal Justice Society, the Employment Law Society, and our very own Professor Prince. In-between all of this activity, we called and emailed alumni who might be interested in attending the events. Along with faculty, alumni contributed to the project the most, bringing the total amount of funds available to make this happen to $3500!
As someone who is entirely dependent on student financial aid, I must admit that the generosity of our fellow students, faculty, alumni, and friends have made something possible that otherwise would not be available to me or my fellow HHR members. The group truly appreciates your support, in whatever form it manifests. Simply reading our humble blog supports our efforts by letting us know that the greater community is paying attention to the crisis in the Gulf region and is interested in seeing Hastings students contribute to a solution.
Thank you!
- Rebecca Green
The past two months have been a real whirlwind for Hastings Hurricane Relief. We began only three months ago, in December, and have raised about $3500 since then. In a frenzy of activity, we raised money while providing educational opportunities. At our first event, fellow students proved that they care about pro bono activities created by students. The next week was more educational; we screened the first act of Spike Lee’s When the Levees Broke and featured a panel of informed and inspiring speakers from Golden Gate University, the Equal Justice Society, the Employment Law Society, and our very own Professor Prince. In-between all of this activity, we called and emailed alumni who might be interested in attending the events. Along with faculty, alumni contributed to the project the most, bringing the total amount of funds available to make this happen to $3500!
As someone who is entirely dependent on student financial aid, I must admit that the generosity of our fellow students, faculty, alumni, and friends have made something possible that otherwise would not be available to me or my fellow HHR members. The group truly appreciates your support, in whatever form it manifests. Simply reading our humble blog supports our efforts by letting us know that the greater community is paying attention to the crisis in the Gulf region and is interested in seeing Hastings students contribute to a solution.
Thank you!
- Rebecca Green
Project Information
We got our project placement information earlier today, and we will be working on the:
FEMA Survey Project!
"This is an ambitious project in which over 150 students are
going to attempt to interview residents in FEMA trailers all over
New Orleans in order to identify their legal issues. We will
also being trying to connect them to already existing services
that they may not know about.
SUB-PROJECT: One of the secondary goals of this survey project is
to track the conditions of New Orleans through "objective indicators"
(non-functioning stoplights, closed stores, etc). This project
requires more driving, less interviewing, and an interest in plotting
locations on maps.
A lack of information is one of the principal problems behind connecting
people to legal aid and services and developing effective solutions.
I can't tell you how important this project is and how personal it will
be to hear the stories and walk the neighborhoods of people who are still
struggling."
FEMA Survey Project!
"This is an ambitious project in which over 150 students are
going to attempt to interview residents in FEMA trailers all over
New Orleans in order to identify their legal issues. We will
also being trying to connect them to already existing services
that they may not know about.
SUB-PROJECT: One of the secondary goals of this survey project is
to track the conditions of New Orleans through "objective indicators"
(non-functioning stoplights, closed stores, etc). This project
requires more driving, less interviewing, and an interest in plotting
locations on maps.
A lack of information is one of the principal problems behind connecting
people to legal aid and services and developing effective solutions.
I can't tell you how important this project is and how personal it will
be to hear the stories and walk the neighborhoods of people who are still
struggling."
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