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Katrina
Hurricane Katrina Recovery - Team Journals
Left to Right: Anders Goranson, Claire Dunnett, Stephanie Miller, Kate Airey, Alison Roy, Vanessa Partridge, Michael Brodeur.
Photo slideshow 1
Photo slideshow 2
August 6, 2006: Coming Back
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
I started to feel nervous on the plane. I wasn’t sure what it would be like to come back to New Orleans. I felt a mixture of emotions: guilt over having returned and not been gung ho enough in my efforts to increase the awareness of New Englanders to the plight of New Orleaneans, frustration that more had not been done to help these individuals by the government, and fear that this trip could be as difficult and exhausting as the March trip. While I felt that I was better prepared for this trip, I still had clear memories of the difficulty I experienced in the weeks after returning. I felt different from my classmates, and would find myself becoming very emotional and intense when discussing New Orleans and its people.
On the plane, I also wondered how this trip was going to work out. As always, there was so much uncertainty involved in what we would actually be doing. We would be working with a group of people that we had never met before and would be working in a school environment. It’s fair to say that I felt a mix of excitement and fear over this prospect.
Finally, I also felt so happy to be coming back to New Orleans. I kept coming back to the thought that I had said that I would return to the people I spoke with last time and was actually doing it. I could not wait to see how the staff at the Hotel Monteleone was doing.
Back: Part I:
As we were driving through New Orleans, I got the sense that there was more life there than there had been in March. I’m not sure why I got that impression; part of it may have had to do with the brochure that I was looking through listing all of the shops and restaurants that I was looking through. Part of it may have been a desire on my part for everything to be ok even though I knew that this was incredibly far from true. It’s funny how my mind still wanted to deny at some level, to undo the enormous pain and suffering that the people of this town had gone through and continued to experience.
August 7, 2006: Coming Back
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
Hotel Monteleone:
I woke up in the morning feeling so happy to be going back to the Monteleone. I was excited that we had come prepared to listen and educate anyone who was interested. Gargi and I had developed fact sheets on the effects of disaster upon the survivors. We were also going to bring some school supplies to distribute to the staff for their kids, grandkids, etc. Wendy was ready to teach some relaxation skills and Cirecie was going to run a story circle.
On this first day of “work” in New Orleans, I reflected back that the Hotel Monteleone had also been our first day back in March. I remembered feeling almost manically happy after working that day and remembered the overall emotional roller coaster that the rest of the week had been. I was worried that this situation could occur again and wondered if I had the strength to experience it. I also reminded myself that I had already experienced seeing the devastation and hearing people’s stories. I was also not coming from a stressful semester at school and hoped that my greater degree of rest would also help to make this a more emotionally level experience.
I found that listening to the stories of the folks that came to see us was less overwhelming than it had been that first time. However, I found myself experiencing a deep sadness to hear how things had gotten better only at a very slow pace or not at all. I wondered how the staff managed to get up and go to work each day despite all of the other issues in their lives. Many of them reported that work was a place of order in an otherwise chaotic world.
Once again I thought of how strong and amazing the human resources staff at the Monteleone has been over the past year. Monique and the other managers were clearly concerned with the well-being of their staff. I overheard a conversation that sounded like it could have come from two therapists and was glad that at least some people in this city were engaged in a collaborative relationship to stay strong and prevail.
One of the most inspirational moments of the day for me was when Cirecie ran the story circle. It was amazing how people who were initially reluctant to talk were able to eventually share stories that showed the common thread among their experiences while respecting the differences. Cirecie did a great job of helping the group to consider the small things that they could do get back to normal. In that moment, I realized that I can never really even come close to understanding what it is like to have their experience. And every time I reflect upon the experience, I find that my mind has a way of giving me a little shove off to a more distant way of looking at things. It is just too hard to imagine the changes that New Orleaneans have experienced occurring in my own life.
After the day at the Monteleone, Monique was kind enough to take us on a “devastation tour”. I was determined to tour the city again as I felt like I needed to find out what had and hadn’t changed so I could come back and communicate this information to others. I also honestly just wanted to see for myself.
"Devastation Tour"
I felt the devastation in my stomach. The more and more that I saw of houses pushed off of their foundations, boats on houses, and fema trailers in the middle of all this, the heavier the weight in my stomach got. I found myself reverting to my previous strategy of using my camera to shield myself from the reality in front of me. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes and found myself listening to a show on NPR that was playing in the background in an unconscious method of distracting myself.
When Monique took us to her house and ushered us inside, it felt surreal to be walking around this house that was completely destroyed but that used to be a comfortable home. I have so much difficulty remembering that sometimes when I am looking at these homes. It is such an alien landscape that my mind has difficulty assimilating that fact that things weren’t always like this. That the couch that is moldy used to be where Monique sat and watched television at night. I still feel a block in my mind trying to put both images together. I don’t think that I will ever fail to feel so sad and bereft when I think of these entire neighborhoods that became sodden ghost towns over night.
The New Pioneers
While we were touring the devastated areas, I noticed people living outside of their destroyed homes in their FEMA trailers. There would be this neighborhood that was still trashed and someone had to get up each day and go out there. This is what they saw when they looked out their window. This blows my mind! What is it like to have to live in what is essentially a war zone? What impact is this having upon the residents’ ability to recover from this tragedy? I have to admit that I couldn’t quite comprehend why people were choosing to live in these neighborhoods, but I definitely respected their strength and determination. Because they really are fighting a war each day that they choose to have to see what they see in the morning. They are making a statement that they are not going to leave and will persevere in spite of everything.
Overall
I think that I have become a little more grim as well. In March I was still holding on to this amorphous hope that things would get better. That some way, the government would come through or something would happen to fix all of this. When someone said that this was a 5-10 year recovery process, I felt myself rather suddenly coming back to ground. The reality is that this is not going to be an easy process. People are leaving because they just can’t take the daily struggle of living in a devastated town that everyone seems to have forgotten about. Now I find myself with doubt that this can succeed. I still have hope, but I am now ready to acknowledge what kind of bleak odds that the people of New Orleans are facing. In times like this, I sometimes long for the innocence of childhood again. But I also realize that refusing to see what is in front of me would be an act of cowardice that I am not willing to consider.
August 8, 2006: Coming Back
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
Well Halleluiah! I am so excited about the plans for the Nelson Charter School. We were invited to sit in a meeting where the Director of the Education department of UNO stood up in front of the teachers and laid out a school vision that matches the one that I have in my head for what schools should be like. If, and this is a big if, this school is actually going to do what it says, this will be an amazing educational experience. Unfortunately, I do feel skeptical at some level not because I don’t believe that everyone involved is invested but because I think about the financial limitations and traumatic symptoms that have to be overcome in order for this to work. There are districts who have not had 85% of the homes in impacted areas destroyed who could not make this work. However, there is a part of my mind that feels like maybe this is more likely to work for exactly the reason that these are people who have experienced an event that caused a huge reevaluation of their lives and view of the world. They may be ready to make a change.
We really didn’t get to spend that much time working at the school today. We basically just hauled some chairs and introduced ourselves to some teachers. I felt a little nervous because I didn’t want to force people to talk about Katrina. So I decided to just ask teachers if they were excited to start the school year and let them discuss what they were comfortable with. I was glad that some teachers asked me why we were there and I was able to tell them that we were there to start a long term relationship and to find out what they needed. Community psychology in action!
I am glad to report that the UFL students are really cool, thoughtful individuals. It was a little weird earlier in the day as Wendy and I were grouped in with UFL when we were introduced but I felt like there were more important things to do at the time then correct someone on a relatively minor point. I have to admit feeling a little jealous at the connection that being from UFL seemed to give the students and the staff at the school. Evidently there is a big rivalry between UFL and UNO? I didn’t really see anyone finding a connection with a school in New Hampshire, especially since we don’t even have a sports team.
Sometimes I wonder about coming all the way from New Hampshire to New Orleans to do work. I mean I KNOW that we are doing great work, but I feel like there is such a large difference in the cultures. I can’t imagine anyone being so friendly in Keene, New Hampshire or speaking about food so enthusiastically. I actually feel like I fit in New Orleans a lot better than in New Hampshire (Note: I am a native New Jerseyian).
August 9, 2006: Coming Back
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
We came back to Nelson today to continue our work. Evidently we decided that we would only work from 10 to 2 due to self-care concerns. I feel torn about this decision. While I can see the reasoning for the decision, there is also this part of me that wants to work and work as much as I can because I feel like this is what we are here to do. However, I keep reminding myself that the point is NOT to wind up all numbed out and overwhelmed like last time but to engage in work with the main purpose of forming relationships that will help us connect in the future. It’s interesting to me how guilty I can feel while engaging in this work. Like, I will be going to the APA conference tomorrow while the UFL students will continue to work until Friday and that same feeling that I should be exhausting myself doing work every day keeps coming up for me. I had to sit down and think about the plans that I had made before coming on this trip. I tried to appreciate and honor the work that we have done, and give myself permission to experience my first APA convention without feeling like I’m having fun when I’m supposed to be working.
The self talk sounds a little like this: “Ultimately, I can not save these people. And most importantly, to even have that thought is insulting. I am on this trip to do what I can do with the time that I have. We are coming back so there is no need to wear myself out”
Note: I am happy to report that I have no been roller coaster woman thus far on the trip. I have felt a mixture of emotions without going too far either way. I have noticed that I am incredibly tired when I get home and throughout the day and I am also a little more cranky than usual. I have never been so happy to read a funny book in all my life as this week.
March 9, 2006
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
Let me start by saying that I went to bed last night feeling very drained and depleted due to all of the flying, waiting, and bag hauling that had been going on throughout the day. However, I sit here at 4:40PM today (add an hour for New Hampshire time) feeling an exuberance and peace that I have not experienced in a long time. I found this feeling growing within me increasingly as our day at the Monte Leone Hotel progressed. We spent the day speaking to several hotel staff who endured the Katrina disaster in various ways and were privileged to be able to eat lunch in the employee dining room as well. I started the day feeling nervous about this endeavor. However, the staff graciously agreed to share their stories with us in a way that made me feel immediately comfortable. Sharing their stories with us was the least that the Monte Leone staff did. They were warm, friendly and caring toward all of us and were so effusive in their repeated thanks to us just for showing up.
If anyone from the Monte Leone Hotel is reading this, I want to say thank you to everyone there once again. I feel so blessed to have been able to meet and speak to all of you. I really do feel that the members of Team Shakti are the ones that should be thanking all of you! I cannot remember a time when I have felt more at home with people that I have never met before.
Before we left for this trip, the members of Team Shakti sat at a table and discussed our hopes and fears for this trip. One of us (Kate perhaps?) said that she felt that this trip had the potential to be a life changing experience. I can sit here now and tell you that after only about 24 hours in this city, I have already been changed in ways that I could never have anticipated.
One of the important things that I feel like I need to do in this journal that will be read by a scary amount of people on the Shakti website is to pass on the messages that we heard today.
The first message is one of hope and survival. It says that you can go through hell and come back again and find ways to discover the blessings even within horror and loss. Part of this message is also that this experience can make you into a person for whom life becomes a lot simpler. The possessions that you once found so important become mere things. However, the human connections in your life become worth more than gold. Even though this life will never wholly return, it has changed in a way that makes you really see the others around you in ways that busy lives and possessions may have previously made difficult. For some of the people I spoke with today, a belief in God or a higher power in general has made making meaning of this experience an easier task. While they are quick to acknowledge that they went through a scarring experience, they also point to their faith in God as pulling them out of the dark spaces back into the light.
Unfortunately, the second message is a less positive one. The staff at the Monte Leone expressed repeated frustration with how this disaster had been and continues to be portrayed in the media. It is important to remember that while Marti Gras was the focus of the media last week, there are still uncountable numbers of people either without a home at all or whose home cannot be repaired due to a shortage of contractors. There was a feeling that the media needed to be dealing with the everyday concerns of everyday New Orleaneans such as exposing the injustices perpetrated by insurance companies and utility companies. For example a few people told us of high bills they were receiving from their power companies for months when they were unable to inhabit their homes. Others reported that insurance companies had given out unfair estimates of the value of property or had refused to cover people under odd clauses.
I think that even spending one day with these individuals has made all members of Team Shakti feel extremely motivated to “fight the good fight” for individuals in New Orleans. We are planning to coordinate a letter writing campaign upon our return that will include letters to the editor of our various local newspapers and letters and perhaps visits to congress.
March 10, 2006
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
I am in a very different place today than I was yesterday. I spent the end of yesterday trying to deal with the overabundance of both adrenaline and emotion in my system. Today I feel tired and satisfied with a tinge of sadness. Team Shakti worked with the Common Ground collective today. You can look them up at www.commongroundcollective.org. We spent the day working on a New Orleans resident’s house, Ms. Thelma. Ms. Thelma is a charming woman who was right in the house with us in the beginning bringing out cups, clothes, etc that were still in the house. She told us that she had also worked along with a group of college students from Florida last week.
When I say we worked on Ms. Thelma’s house I mean that we basically did all we could to strip it down to the bare bones. We took most of the plaster, lathing, carpet, flooring, cabinets, and even some fireplaces out of her house. It was pretty intense as we were doing this wearing long pants and tee shirts with tyvex suits over them. We were also wearing goggles, respirators, boots, and two pair of gloves.
Having just read over what I’ve read, I have to step back a moment and report that I think that I am feeling a bit numb right now. Where yesterday, I was exposed to so much positive emotion and hope, today I drove through neighborhoods that have been absolutely decimated by floodwaters. It is difficult to describe what it is like to walk into someone’s home and find the walls covered by mold, debris all over the floor, and the floor itself actually swollen into large lumps. I think that my method of defending myself against this experience is to place a filter over my emotions because if I was truly able to think about these homes and people, I would at the very least sob.
So instead I retreat into intellectualism. I become superficially angry at the federal and state government for their shameful lack of response. I focus my emotion into energy which I use to rip down plaster, not caring if bits of it bang into me.
So while I am experiencing the real time, unfiltered reality of New Orleans and most of you reading this are sitting at home in front of your computers, I find myself wondering if this defensive intellectualism may be a common theme. Our media bombards us with so many negative images, that I’d imagine that it would be necessary for Americans to turn themselves off. But you know what, that is really unfortunate because while newscasters and reporters are telling us about the Americans who are tired of hearing about Katrina, who are experiencing “compassion fatigue”, there are millions of people in Louisiana, Texas, and Mississippi who don’t have the option of turning the channel because this is their life. They have to wake up everyday and deal with the fact that they have no home to go back to, that the government would like to bull dose their house if it is still standing, that they have lost people in the floodwaters forever. And from what I’ve heard, it really hurts when New Orleaneans feel that the rest of the country is ready to move on from this disaster because they would rather read or watch more pleasant things.
Now I am not asking anyone to spend all of their time focusing on the negative things that happen in the world. That is simply not healthy for any of us and is probably not that helpful for the survivors. What I am asking is that the people who read this journal spend a few hours or minutes of their time to try to show support and solidarity with the survivors of this disaster. Whether it is writing an email to your congressperson or other ways, even a small action on your part can really help. It helps because it shows our government and industry that we as a country still care about Katrina, and therefore the people in charge need to get moving to not only provide greater assistance, but also engage in some planning that will make sure that a disaster of this kind will never be so mismanaged again.
March 11, 2006
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
Part 1:
We started the day by going to the Common Ground Clinic in Algiers. Gargi and I had separated out toys and medical supplies to take to the clinic and had left the rest for Pass Christian, Mississippi. When we arrived at the clinic it was clear that it was a little too small to accommodate us all. In fact, all of the volunteers we spoke with there were very nice but appeared quite overwhelmed by the size and suggested tasks of our group. Many of the members of Team Shakti commented on how shocked we were that this tiny clinic was the only thing available to so many impoverished New Orleaneans. While the staff of the clinic was extremely accommodating, Team Shakti decided as a group that our presence at the clinic appeared to create more of a hindrance than a help, especially since we did not have much time to devote to working there. Thus, we decided to forgo our work there and get some lunch at Lil’ Dizzy’s restaurant which I had heard about on NPR.
Lil’ Dizzy’s was an awesome example of good southern cooking. The waitress was charming and just a little bossy to us. However, it was in a way that you want your waitress to be. She was just full of personality and had plenty of suggestions for what we should eat for breakfast which was all they were serving at the time. It’s funny how much moments like our brunch at Lil’ Dizzy’s mean to me on this trip. I feel like I am on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so it’s nice when I get to experience something more normal such as a meal in a restaurant. But it’s like these positive experiences are heightened in some way. I am experiencing joy and pleasure in a way that I probably have not since childhood.
Part 2:
At 3PM, Dr. Z came to take us on a tour of the lower ninth ward. How can I describe what this experience was like for me? Seeing and working in Ms. Thelma’s house yesterday was pretty terrible. Walking through this former neighborhood was beyond description. We drove down the street and the first impression I had was that it looked like the neighborhood had either been bombed or had been victim to a particularly vicious set of tornados. Houses were simply no longer there. Instead, there were piles of boards, bricks and debris everywhere. I could actually feel my mind retreating away from the true intensity of the sight before me.
Dr. Z. brought us to a spot that had piles of bricks around a concrete slab and explained that this had been the site of his father’s godmother’s house. He said that after Katrina, his parents had asked him to check out the house. Z said he did not know how to tell his parents what was left it its place.
One of the most shocking things that Z kept saying was that the neighborhood was much cleaner and freer of debris than it had been right after the storm. For me, walking around that neighborhood with tears slowly leaking out under my sunglasses, this was impossible to comprehend. In fact, this is the hardest journal entry that I have had to write because I can just not find the words to adequately explain what it feels like to walk through a place that does not look like it belongs anywhere in America. Maybe a third world country but not “the greatest country in the world”.
I continue to experience this odd numbness while on this trip. It’s like my internal circuit breaker keeps getting tripped and shutting off because the intensity of what I am seeing and hearing is just too great to take. While I was walking around the lower ninth snapping pictures, Dr. Z, Gargi, and I were having a very intellectual and interesting conversation. And while I was enjoying this greatly, from time to time a part of me would step back and wonder of the oddness of it all. How could I be having any sort of normal conversation in the midst of such chaos and madness?
Z reported that the neighborhood we were in had about an 80 to 90% rate of house ownership. Most of the individuals were older and had purchased these homes in the 1930’s and 40’s. Because they had been able to pay off of their homes, many of these people did not have flood insurance. Therefore their homeowners insurance will not pay for the cost of rebuilding their home. There were several things that were sad about this story for me. These are African American families who were able to purchase homes in a time when very few individuals of their race were able to do so due to the racist culture of their time. In addition, as the majority of the residents were working class individuals, the majority of their net worth was in their property. As Z said, these people had used their homes to get the loans to put their children through college. And now they are being told that the government wants to make their neighborhood green space. Z pointed out that the residents of some other neighborhoods that were significantly lower in elevation but composed of white residents of higher socioeconomic status were being told no such thing.
Part 3:
Talking to Dr. Z. was such an exciting experience for me. Here was an African American psychologist who was practicing all of the things I had learned about in Diversity, in my reading, and in many conversations with Gargi. Walking along having these conversations with Z and Gargi made me realize that I have a real thirst for exposure to psychologists of different cultural, racial, and ethnic backgrounds. These conversations are part of what made me want to study psychology in the first place.
However, as a relatively privileged white woman, I must admit that I find myself feeling a bit inadequate at times. I wonder if I can ever truly understand what it is like to live in the world as a minority when I have not had this experience myself. I do not subscribe to the “wounded healer” theory of treatment, but I do wonder if I will ever truly “get it”. It is so easy to succumb to the belief that you are at a point when you do not need to know anymore about this (I speak about this theoretically as I do not feel this way about anything in psychology) but it is a constant struggle and battle against the racist and ethnocentric biases that are spoon fed to all of use through our culture. They sneak in for me when I least expect it. Sometimes I say things that just sound so ignorant right after they come out of my mouth. It feels almost like some other part of me is coming to the forefront and hijacking my mouth.
I hope that developing a relationship with psychologists from diverse backgrounds can assist me in reducing the amount of &lquo;stupid” moments I experience and to perhaps gain even a little more insight into the experience of a psychologist of color.
March 13, 2006
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
I didn’t write a journal entry yesterday, as we were able to spend the day exploring New Orleans on our own. I do have to give a shout out to the Gumbo House for their wonderful food.
We left for Pass Christian, Mississippi today and arrived at the Morrell Foundation where we are staying about 12PM. We are staying in a huge building with recently constructed wood walls. There are four wood bunk beds in each room. There is a separate tent for food, a computer lab, and pretty decent restrooms and showers. We found our rooms, ate a good lunch, and then left to meet Leela in Pass Christian. As we arrived in Pass Christian one of the first things I noticed was the lack of buildings in the town. Instead, everything was trailers and large Quonset huts. This included the library, the bank, the city hall, a large volunteer building, and at least a hundred little huts which I later learned were used to house many of Pass Christian’s displaced citizens.
As the person we were there to work with, case manager Leela Weems was stuck in traffic, we went into the library to speak with Sally, the librarian. The inside of the library looked pretty typical with an impressive array of books, movies, and books on tape. A colorful mural filled with rainbows and painted people was behind the desk. Sally was a charming older woman with a lovely southern accent who immediately came into the back room and sat down with us at the table. She began by giving us a history of Pass Christian and the library. The library was originally built with money left over from Hurricane Camille funds. Sally said Hurricane Katrina had severely damaged the children’s wing of the library, however this damage brought a lot of termite damage to light. Sally stated that in some ways the damage was a blessing, as the termite damage would have resulted in the eventual destruction of the children’s wing anyway. Sally said that there were some architectural students who were writing up plans for a new library and who promised to build it eventually. These students were also going to create plans for homes for several Pass Christian residents.
Then Sally and a local resident Rowella told us about their experiences in the storm. Both women had lost their homes to a degree that there was simply nothing left after the storm. After the storm they both spent a lot of time simply digging in the dirt trying to find any possessions that were buried in the ground. Ro said that she had gone to stay with friends before the storm and had continued to stay there currently. Ro said she had found this arrangement to be very helpful in dealing with the after effects of the storm. Ro said that all of the residents of the house had what they called "meltdowns". In other words they would be triggered by a song, smell, etc and burst into tears. Ro was relieved to find that this was a normal reaction. Ro also cited her two year old as providing a reason for all of the people in the house to maintain their functioning.
Listening to Ro and Sally made me really sad. They spoke so eloquently about losing their homes but were so matter of fact about it. They both seemed to be doing so well after something that I really don’t know how I would survive. For some reason, Ro and Sally’s knowledge about normal reactions to trauma really affected me and heightened my sadness.
After leaving the library, we went to the Americorp’s volunteer center. We had originally thought we would be assisting these guys with completing needs assessments but then learned that they had finished knocking on doors. We were able to look at the needs assessments and learned about the organization who had invented the questionnaire.
Leela came to the building and took us to her trailer to meet. The context of the meeting was kind of weird for me as there was a bulldozer removing the remains of Leela’s home as we sat inside the trailer. Leela had a healthy attitude about the removal as she said she was taking things one day at a time and saw the clean up as allowing her to complete one task and then move on. Leela talked to us about her case management duties. I was really interested in the potential difficulty of possible counter transference involved with counseling people about a situation that you have experienced. Leela admitted to experiencing thoughts while counseling people such as “you didn’t even lose your house, what do you have to complain about?” (not her actual words) It seems like supervision in this context would be especially important as, while these thoughts occur for every therapist to some degree, it seems to me that it could be more of a problem when you have been so impacted by this thing so recently.
This speaks to a larger issue in New Orleans and Mississippi. This really was a situation that impacted everyone living in those areas in some fashion; thus there probably aren’t really many people out there to provide assistance who will be free from this countertransferential impact.
March 14, 2006
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
Part 1:
After the self care meeting last night (which I’m sure other team members addressed in their notes) we had decided to attend the case management organization meeting, see what we could to help, and then assess how long we should stay in Pass Christian. I felt really strange coming into the meeting, as it seemed like a lot of the participants felt kind of confused as to why we were there. However, I was interested to see what was being done to organize case management especially in the area of housing. An area of specific interest to me was to see the degree of coordination of care between these case managers who were focused on housing and other perhaps preexisting case managers who were dealing with mental health or physical illness (HIV/AIDS) concerns. As a case manager at an AIDS services organization, I deal with the gamut of concerns with my clients with housing included so I guess I was wondering how roles changed and stayed the same after Katrina. Leela had informed me the day before that there was basically no coordination of care in the current situation which I found unacceptable. So I felt vindicated when a woman from the department of health and human services got up at the meeting to implore the case managers present to check for mental health and physical illness concerns such as whether people were able get there medications. I felt like saying “duh people”.
I have to admit that I was shocked to see the lack of organization among the case managers at this meeting. To be fair, these individuals are dealing with something that no one else in this country has ever had to address before. They are literally developing the protocol as they are going along. However, it concerned me that it took most of an hour simply to figure out how to create a directory of providers. I felt that there was a situation of “too many cooks…” at this meeting. However, I’m not sure I would have done any better. Having someone well versed in consultation or organizational psych could have really helped the situation.
Stepping back from this a little, this meeting scares the hell out of me in some ways. Something that I heard on this trip and that has really stayed with me ever since was someone saying that destruction in the same vein of Katrina will impact other cities and states eventually. The person also said that they did not think any other place would be better equipped to deal with another disaster of such a large magnitude. Having witnessed this meeting, I have to say that I absolutely agree. Dealing with people’s normal day-to-day concerns has made me very aware that it is very difficult if not impossible to get all of the providers in a person’s life working even side-by-side if not together. Add a huge disaster that impact basically everything and everyone in the mix and just see the fun that ensues.
We need to plan better folks!
Part 2:
After leaving the meeting and having some lunch at Paradise Cove (yum), which is the only restaurant cum trailer currently available in Pass Christian, we decided to take a tour of the devastated areas. Once again I find myself experiencing difficulty in finding the words to describe what we saw. I have said to other team Shakti members that I wish that I could just put the pictures here and let them speak for themselves.
Let me just say that I had to keep reminding myself that the piles of debris and brick that were lying around concrete used to be people’s homes. One of the oddest things was that in the middle of these exposed foundations, there were pretty yellow flower bushes growing. It was a strange mix of devastation and beauty.
As I walked around I once again found myself to be numb. Along with that feeling (or lack), came this overwhelming need to document what I was seeing. I experienced frustration of not being able to truly capture the experience of walking on the foundation of someone’s house through a picture. I found myself engaging in odd behavior such as trying to take pictures in a way that would not leave any doubt as to the veracity of my pictures. So I took pictures with trees in them or with people standing on the foundations. I still don’t know why I assumed that people would question the truth of my pictures, perhaps it was a way of reflecting my own lack of belief as I actually walked at "the scene of the crime" as it were. I’m not sure if I have said this before, but I have felt so often like I was walking around a movie set during this trip. My mind just refuses to acknowledge reality to a certain degree because it feels that what I see can simply just not be happening.
March 14, 2006
Katrina Note, Vanessa Partridge
Gargi and I went to meet Cerise and Kiesha for brunch this morning. At first we tried to go to La Paniche, a restaurant that Cerice recommended. However, it was closed so we made our way to Lil’ Dizzies for another meal.
After the meal, Cerice asked us if we minded if she went to see her old house, which she had moved out of three years ago to move to Florida. We drove into what at very first glance appeared to be a nice middle class neighborhood. However, upon closer examination I began to see the broken windows, piles of debris, and water lines on and around the houses. As we drove down her old street, Cerice pointed out who had lived in which houses and told us about their professions and interactions with each other in the neighborhood.
At last we pulled up to a house and got out of the car. Cerice informed us that this had been her home. As I looked around I could see that the fence had been knocked over, the front door was standing open, and there were several dirt lines high on the front of the house indicating the water level. Cerice pulled out her camera and I proceeded to do the same, used by now of taking constant pictures of the devastation. Luckily, Gargi was there to ask Cerice if it was ok for me to take pictures. While I had been thinking that I needed to ask her before doing so, for some reason it had gone out of my head once we reached the house. Cerice did not appear to be upset by my rudeness but I made sure to apologize for it later.
We then looked in the doors and windows of both the front and back of the house. As we did so, Cerise told us stories about the house. She pointed out where she had redesigned things and about the parties that her family used to have in the house and the garage in back. Both Kiesha and Cerice appeared extremely shocked and saddened by the experience of seeing a place that they reported having many good times in, in such a poor condition.
Looking into the house, I could see mud on the floors, water lines on the walls, and furniture abandoned and ruined. It appeared that the current owners had cleared out much of the debris, however the condition of the house was still shocking.
Looking around a house (we did not go inside) with a woman who had lived there for over 10 years was a much different experience for me than seeing all of the other devastation had been. While I had never met Cerice before that morning, I had shared a meal with her and had listened to her speak about the work she was doing. I knew her in a way that was different. And while I think that I instinctually tried to guard myself by shoving a camera in front of my face, Gargi kept me from shutting down by showing a simple human regard for Cerice’s experience of seeing the house she had lived in for so long destroyed by water.
As a result, I felt a profound nausea and sadness that is still with me as I write this. I felt and still feel like going somewhere and laying my head down because it seems almost too heavy to hold up. My heart aches with the knowledge that an entire city has been destroyed in a way that will take years to repair even part of the way. And part of my heartache is that many of the people who have been impacted by this disaster are not being acknowledged by the media as even existing.
Keisha expressed her frustration that all of the news reports portrayed the city of New Orleans as existing solely of impoverished residents on welfare. However, the neighborhood we were in was comprised of a multiethnic array of professional, middle class people. Cerice pointed out the homes of several doctors and lawyers as we drove down the street.
I am faced with the sudden, disturbing thought that perhaps part of the reason that having this experience impacted me so much was because I was walking around with a bunch of middle class women in the field of psychology. Maybe I finally felt this sadness because in some small way I could understand this experience in a way that I could not of a really poor person without the same level of education. Please do not think that I presume to understand Cerice’s experience at all. For one thing, I don’t know her, for another we have quite a few differences including, age, racial and ethnic identity, and several more that I am probably not even aware of. But we "speak each other’s language" in a way. I can envision this person standing in front of a classroom or sitting in the role of supervisor very easily. So maybe I can put myself in her place or the places of the residents of the neighborhood a little easier.
Suddenly, I was able to imagine, at least a little, my parent’s home filled with trash, branches, and objects that had been thrown out of their proper places. With piles of mud on the floor and with the pictures and mementos of my childhood destroyed. And basically never being able to go home again. Because even if I could go back into the same structure, nothing would be the same. The very floor I was standing on would be different. And I would always have the memory of the horror that seeing my home look like a garbage dump of knowing that many of my neighbors and friends were never going to come back.
I do think that part of the emotionality of this for me is in having this experience made real in a way that it was not before. I have experienced the thought that I am walking around in a movie set; that the things I am seeing are not quite real. Part of this is because there is a part of my mind that does not feel that they can be. Things this bad don’t really happen to people do they? Knowing something intellectually and really knowing it in your mind and gut are two totally different things. I think this is one of the lessons that I will carry with me from this experience. I finally realize definitively that this has happened in a deep part of myself.
I could imagine what the house had looked like before the levees broke, had a vision of sorts of Cerice, her husband, and their two children sitting at the table and eating breakfast in the morning. Or pulling up at the end of a hard day to flop on the couch and relax in the same way that I do.
And I wish that I could share this feeling with all of you in some way. I have said that I feel angry and frustrated at the limitations of my words and pictures to get through this experience to others. I wish there was some way that I could put a virtual reality helmet on everyone’s head so they can see what it is truly like to walk through a neighborhood affected by Katrina with all of the sights, sounds, and odors that make something seem real.
Right now I just feel tired.
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