Remembering Katrina

New_orleans_shoesIt has been two years since Hurricane Katrina. Let’s replace "they" with "we" with "I"as we remember what happened there, and as we look for ways to help in the continuing recovery. As I looked back on what I was writing when the hurricane struck, here is what I found:

"While there are many material victims of this disaster, losing homes and things they cherished and worked hard for, the human victims of Hurricane Katrina are largely poor and black. They are the ones who could not escape. They are the ones who should have been provided for first, but weren’t.

They are the invisible people who clean our toilets when we go to New Orleans to eat beignets, listen to jazz, eat garlic-mashed potatoes, and hold conferences about new ways to do our jobs. They are the faceless bellhops and waitresses who have for years provided the infrastructure for New Orleans to thrive as a tourist Mecca, the steel beams on which the happy debauchery of Mardi Gras could stand. They are the poor, voiceless people of this nation, not the rich ones.

Many of them are the poor ones from whom we avert our eyes, the ones we avoid and hide in appropriate sections of town, and the ones we hide from, embarrassed by our own standing on their shoulders. There are no wealthy people in the Superdome; there are no wealthy people dead in wheelchairs outside the Convention Center, skin popping in the heat and water, no. They simply are not there. The storm wasn’t racist and classist, but we are (in addition, in the face of this situation, to being quite desperately inept). This situation points to a reality far wider than what is happening now in New Orleans; it is this larger and more complex issue that our nation must address after we have taken care of those displaced and dead and distraught people in the Gulf Coast.

Each human being asked to suffer the conditions of the Superdome and the Convention Center is a person with a mother and a father, children, likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams that aren’t different from my own, not really. They have a history, however, that is nothing like mine, and their history—like mine—figures into their reaction to this tragedy, these broken promises, this horror. They all deserve dignity and respect, even when they don’t behave in the way we would like for them to behave, even when they resort to looting and violence. It is easy to love and care for lovable people; it is harder to love and care for those who are unlovable. That is our challenge in times like these….

Responding well in situations that are not desperate is not much of a skill. It doesn’t take a lot to be civil when all of our basic needs are met, when we are having the equivalent of a nice tea party with white gloves and glossy pink lipstick expertly applied and eating cucumber sandwiches on white bread while giggling about Johnny Depp. No, that’s not the test of who we are. Instead, responding well in a situation of this gravity and magnitude is where we begin to separate the wheat from the chaff. And I realize after a day of blaming people that I’m not even passing my own test. I’ve spent the last day like one of those old ladies that Faulkner writes about, the ones he describes that sit on chairs too tall for their feet to reach the floor, my impotent little legs furiously kicking below me in the dust motes.

So here is my vow: I am not going to spend mental or physical energy blaming people for this unconscionable and undeniably incompetent response to this tragedy. No, not yet. No, to do that now does not honor those men and women and children who have yet to eat or drink, it does not honor those dead human beings with real lives and families who loved them and had to leave them floating in the floodwaters, a desperate and incomplete goodbye to the real and true and precious loves of their life. I cannot sit here with my cup of coffee and tasty scone and place blame on people who are desperately trying to help in the best way they can. No, I will save all that fury and helplessness and second-guessing for later. I will only offer constructive suggestions now until the last person is buried and the last person has been fed and showered and found. The more I ask authorities to respond to my allegations of blame, the less focused they are on the families still drowning by inches in their attics, and the more distance I can create between my own self and this tragedy.

We are all accountable for this."

Let us consider ourselves part of the solution: "The wave of horror I feel at the world’s pain has been revealed to me as a peculiar form of privilege; there is a sense of horror and a terrible sense of relief at the same time, if I am honest. I am not there, which allows me the luxury to have an intellectual response to this event. I must dig deeper into what it means to be connected to these people who are so affected; it is that intellectual response to tragedy that keeps us immune, that makes these tragedies all the more possible in the world. I manage my reaction to them by keeping them small tragedies, the size of my TV screen—I cannot allow that to happen and I must all at the same time. What am I doing about what’s happening in the Congo? Nothing. What am I doing about what’s happening in the Middle East? Nothing. What am I doing about starving children in the world, about starving children in my town, about the man with no shoes downtown? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing."

Do something.

About Patti Digh

Patti Digh is an author, speaker, and educator who builds learning communities and gets to the heart of difficult topics. Her work over the last three decades has focused on diversity, inclusion, social justice, and living and working mindfully. She has developed diversity strategies and educational programming for major nonprofit and corporate organizations and has been a featured speaker at many national and international conferences.

9 comments to " Remembering Katrina "
  • tali

    Great posting–but one problem. The hurricane was 2 years ago. 2005. Which makes the situation in my mind all the more worse. It’s been two years and there is still so much more left undone. People are still waiting for the money the govt promised them. Still waiting for insurance payments. Still living in those FEMA trailers that weren’t meant to be lived in for so long. I’ve heard that there are some great volunteer organizations that have helped a lot…but there is so much left to be done.

  • Tali – I am so glad you noticed – that’s what comes from moving too fast – I hadn’t recognized my egregious error. Thank you – I’ll correct that – and yes, the waiting continues…

  • I also don’t understand…with FEMA money and all the fund-raising that was done…how are there still so many waiting for assistance to rebuild their lives? While billions of dollars the U.S. does not have are borrowed from future generations and spent on a war half a world away, we can’t seem to take care of our own???

  • jasper

    I was struck by a snippet of a sentence in your posting — “people who are desperately trying to help in the best way they can”. As we know the Bush Administration was not in the days before and after the hurricane desperately trying to help anyone.

    President Bush appears to use his visits to New Orleans as photo opportunities rather than opportunities to provide real and substantive help to those whose lives are still comprised of insurmountable and incomprehensible obstacles two years after the fact.

    And yes, it is easy to criticize and point the finger and lay blame but isn’t this a situation in which it is perhaps right to criticize and point the finger and lay blame?

  • Kikipotamus – great questions….how, indeed?

    Jasper – I don’t believe I was referring to the current Administration in making that statement at the time – in fact, I was critical of them – and I certainly couldn’t use that descriptor to refer to them in the years since. Yet, at the time I wrote that piece, laying blame was filling up the space and time that should have been used (literally) to rescue people from dying in their attics where they were still stranded. What I intended to convey was that we need to know what happened, but we need to save people’s lives first. At this distance, two years later, laying blame looks responsible, necessary, and an important step in ensuring that this never happen again. Thanks for your note…

  • jasper

    Patti

    I am sorry that I have upset you.

    I apologize if I gave the impression that you were in any way defending the behaviour of the Bush Administration by seeking to deflect criticism. Your writings are evidence that you find many of its policies appalling.

    I will simply repeat that the passage in your blog from two years ago prompted me to post a comment. I can remember government officials stating that now was not the time to point fingers or lay blame and that is, perhaps, why my response to your words was so visceral.

    It seems to me and it seemed to me at the time that there are moments in history when the delay in laying responsibility means that either no one is ever brought to task or only ‘underlings’ are held accountable. New Orleans is one of those moments.

    What makes all of this that much worse is that none of what happened was unforeseeable or unpredictable. Officials had received warnings and knew what would happen if a big hurricane hit and chose to do nothing. I am not sure that deferring the rendering of accounts saved many lives.

    No one will ever be held accountable for people dying in their attics and on the streets and in a football arena. No one will assume the blame for people having to wait in fear and in hunger for rescue. No one will ever have the personal fortitude to acknowledge the sheer insanity of a football arena being refurbished within months of the hurricane hitting while the lives and homes of ordinary people remained in ruins. One in three households have still not returned. The population of the city has dropped from 455,000 to 274, 000. Jobs are still hard to come. Positions have declined by more than 20,000 in each of the areas of tourism, government services, and healthcare. Less than half of the public schools in the city have re-opened. Daycare facilities dropped in number by more than 60 per cent and hospitals by 50 per cent. There were almost 200,000 homes damaged by the storm. Only one in these four households mes have received government grants. Property values in some parts of the city dropped 20 per cent and rents went skyrocketed.

    People died two years ago because they were poor and because to be poor in American society — and my own society if I am willing to be honest with myself– is to be considered unimportant. That has not really changed in the two years since the hurricane. People continue to live and die because of poverty.

    I fear that because there is no answerability for what happened, no lessons will have been learned and no changes in beliefs, behaviour and values on an individual and a societal level will have been effected.

    I once again apologize for upsetting you or conveying the impression that you were an unofficial spokesperson for the current American government.

  • My dear Jasper – I couldn’t have said it better than you just have – many thanks for this eloquent and informed look at the travesty that has followed Katrina. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that your original comment upset me – it didn’t. I just wanted to ensure that my meaning in the original essay wasn’t miscontrued as an apologia for the Administration. No apology necessary – at all. I always so much value your clear and cogent responses to my writing.

  • I can’t possibly add anything that hasn’t already been said here. I’ll simply share a couple of links…because, for me, it always comes back to the music. I don’t mean the MUSICIANS (only)…I mean the MUSIC. Because, to me, the music that was born in New Orleans is the life force of that unique American city’s culture…

    http://tinyurl.com/yvy4av

    And this…

    http://tinyurl.com/34bzy9

  • Folks in the Superdome were also

    Mambo’s who stayed for the the people they pray with and protect – that didn’t have cars

    Big Chief’s, Flag boys, Spy boys and other members of S&P clubs (Social Aide and Pleasure Clubs)-http://www.mardigrasneworleans.com/zulu/main.html
    that didn’t have cars

    Musicians and their grandmothers, grandfathers and aunties-
    that didn’t have cars

    the great widow of Ernie K Doe
    and all of her “adopted from the neighborhood” in the upper 9th “nephews” who stayed to watch out for her

    The Rev. who knew to sing prayers would ease and unify all in the dome, with those of his congregation – that didn’t have cars

    “white” writers, painters, float constructors
    – that didn’t have cars

    at least one retired Firefighter that i knew- that didn’t have a car

    One wasn’t necessarily destitute or cleaning toilets for a living in N.O. to be with out a car- and in the Dome.
    Many people didn’t bother with cars in the pedestrian city with the lovely streetcars n all.

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