So it is Tuesday night and we are heading out of New Orleans. I know that I didn’t update on what we did Sunday or Monday, but for now this is really more about processing than about a play-by-play of activities. There are so many things on my mind and I have so much to say, but I am not sure where to start. I think this is going to be pretty random and long and might not make a lot of sense to some readers, but I have to get it out. I feel an obligation to myself and to others in so many ways and really am struggling to process all of this – not just this week but the place of the New Orleans experiences in my life. So here we go.
When I first went to Gulfport years ago, I never would have imagined that years later I would find myself finishing my fourth trip to New Orleans in a year. I knew the first time I came to the gulf after Katrina that it was the first time in a long time that I really felt called to be somewhere and do something in a way that I can’t really explain, but that I see as God. And I knew when I was here then that God was at work in my life in ways I still don’t understand. I knew when I came back from that trip that I hoped I would be able to come back and do more. Years later, I got a Facebook message from a long-time friend and mentor who invited me to be a part of a Presbyterian Disaster Assistance trip to New Orleans, which took place last January. Everything worked out just as it needed to and so off I went. I only knew the woman who had sent me the information but by the end of the trip I had been a part of some amazing things. I was so blessed by my project manager, a woman who really sought to understand and share the story of the people and city of New Orleans in a way that was so compelling. I think when I first heard about the storm and came to the gulf the first time, I had no idea the complexity of all of the systems that were at work here. But, Christina was amazing. Though she wasn’t a New Orleans native, she has spent the past 4 years volunteering in this role and sharing the untold stories of Katrina survivors and of the spirit of the city I have grown to love.
As a result of that trip, I went back to home and school and insisted that I do my fieldwork in New Orleans. I am sure it was another cause of anxiety for my parents, who know I do crazy things, but I just couldn’t stop the need I felt to come back. After a lot of conversations with our field instructor, a new field placement was designed that allowed me to work on a macro and micro level with the people of New Orleans. Part of that you all were able to experience with me as I traveled twice to New Orleans on my own in July and October. And now, I have completed this fourth week-long journey of the year, and this time with an outstanding group of individuals who were beyond anything I could have asked for or imagined.
So now here I am just trying to make sense of what I saw and experienced this week and how that works with what I experienced during my two previous trips to work in the Seventh ward. Here are some thoughts at random…
Violence – I cannot imagine the violence in which so many of these kids grow up in. When I was visiting with a man on Sunday, he told me without a touch of sadness about his son being shot three days prior. Six times. He is the second generation of gang members in his family and around here, you just sort of expect that kind of violence as a fact of life. But even that isn’t what gets me. This week people across the nation are expressing concern and compassion in unparalleled levels over the shooting in Tucson. This is totally founded, because it was a tragic thing that happened. But what I can’t understand is why everyone’s hearts break for a 9 year old girl getting shot at a political event but not for the black girl getting shot in a drive by in the hood. It happens every day here. EVERY DAY. And no one blinks an eye, misses a beat, puts it on the news, or sends piles of flowers. President Obama doesn’t call her parents, no fund is established in her memory, and no one is really surprised. This breaks my heart. I just don’t get it. I don’t get why it is a federal offense to kill a federal judge but not a black man in the street. I think the message we communicate is that the judge’s life is worth more. Or perhaps that the black man was doing something to deserve it. Stings doesn’t it? But in some ways, it’s true and in a lot of ways, I am overwhelmingly frustrated by that fact and have no idea what to do with it. I hate it.
Potential – the thing with which I am struggling almost equal to these thoughts of violence is the idea of potential and the loss of it. I am honestly saddened and in rough shape after this week because what I am seeing is showing me all of the lost potential in the city. While I cannot compare it to any other city and this may be true in other large cities, New Orleans is what I know, and I know it well and here’s what I know. I know that this summer I was so overwhelmed on the day when I looked at those kids and I saw everything that they could be. I saw how much love they had to give and how many dreams they could dream if the world hadn’t already taught them not to. In so many ways that vision was a blessing, because it reminded me that anyone can change and anyone can achieve great things. But my heart was broken this week as I just saw a pile of broken dreams and lost potential. I left feeling frustrated that myself and others in the group had not done more with people in the city. We were so ready and willing and hoping to sit and share life with people for a while, give them some hope and encouragement, and just take some of their pain for a while. Unfortunately, for so many reasons, that didn’t happen a lot. But outside of the lost potential from the perspective of my group, I think my deeper understanding of the community and of all of the layers of issues that it deals with just showed me all of the potential that will never be reached. I think people in general are so incredible and capable of so much, but many of the kids I have grown to know and love, might not graduate from high school. They will drop out, get pregnant, go to jail, or die before hand. Let that sink in a bit. Compare it to the community where you live. It is a different world and I hope it makes you as angry as it makes me. The city was given a chance to start over, create new systems, build better schools, meet more needs, reform its transportation system, and so much more, but the money is sitting in some account doing nothing. I hate it.
Systems Theory – So I am not going into great detail about systems theory, but it basically is a theory that expands the idea that no man is an island. Duh. I think we all learn in classes that any client you work with individually operates as the result of different layers of systems in which he or she lives – family, community, groups, society, etc. However, my time here has given me a better understanding of the piles of systems at work in communities, especially in broken cities, and how the issues are so interwoven. For example, when we pass out condoms in the hood, there are a ton of things going on that have to be considered. First, we hit a low-income area because poverty doesn’t give you a check for protection from HIV/AIDS so we attempt to get them to people who cannot afford to purchase them. At the same time, you deal with cultural issues concerning sex – we learned on Bourbon Street that talking about sexing the urban, black community is very different than talking about it with white, middle class tourists. This is not a value judgment or meant to say either side handles the issue better, but it is a factor involved. At the same time, gender issues are concerned. There are women here who are abused for insisting that men use condoms. Additionally, some of those women are sex workers who want to take them but can’t. Then, there is a law that we cannot distribute them to individuals under 18, and you know that they are having sex. So there are choices to make there. Then, there are racial and cultural issues playing out. In a lot of black communities, there is more of a family feel than in many white communities. It is seen as the community’s job to raise children and handle them. So, if someone takes a handful of condoms and distributes them to a school bus full of kids, what does that mean? There is also the fact that there is a group of 14 white people wandering through the projects on a Monday afternoon. What does that say about us-them? What does it say about violence and safety and racism and risk? I don’t know. I am not sure what I am saying about all of this, because each of these systems at work in New Orleans are flawed beyond belief. There is oppression, a general lack of leadership with integrity, a misunderstanding about things that educated people take for granted. What I do know is that sometimes being aware of all of these things helps me work more effectively with others and sometimes it breaks my heart and leaves me wondering how to recover from my time here.
Groups – As I have said in previous posts I am here this time with a group and that has been really good and really interesting. I have embraced it for the most part, as I have really enjoyed having others with similar backgrounds to relate to in my time here. I am glad that when I go home I will be able to continue conversations with others who have been a part of this experience. The great thing is that it wasn’t just a group of people that I could handle spending the week with. Everyone in our group was really phenomenal and I was really blessed to be able to work and learn and share with them this week. Before the trip we had done some different fundraisers and other activities together, but didn’t really know each other very well. But I am so glad for the time we had here. I have been able to see a lot of really great things in people – both personally and professionally – and got to know some really quality people.
(In the middle of writing this very emotional post on the airplane I was interupted and basically got Punk'd...hence the abrupt ending..read the "Blanket" post for info...)
I don’t really know what to do from here but I am sure that in the next few days I will be taking some of my Panera cards and putting them to good use while I figure it out…
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Minister of Fun
Yesterday was great. I am fighting frustration right now that I can't post some of the pictures because of some camera issues, but it was still a great day and some of the pictures I can post and that is good.
Yesterday morning we slept in a little and then a couple of us went with Deborah to the grocery store to get some things for our evening cooking adventure. After we finished with that, we piled into the van and went to the African American History Museum where there was an unveiling of the Mardi Gras poster for the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club. Now I am not going to pretend to know everything about all of this, but here is what we learned. First, the Zulus are not just in it to party, and if they were, Mardi Gras is about a lot more than what wasted Bourbon Street tourists think it is. The Zulus, as you can imagine from their name, do a lot of social projects in the community, provide a social club for members, and are one of the most famous krews for Mardi Gras. The event we went to is a yearly celebration where they usher in the carnival season by unveiling their yearly poster. One of the cool things about it was that some of them were there in full dress, which means they are covered entirely in costume and face paint. One of the guys there is the "Minister of Fun" and had the sweetest costume of them all. Now, one of the things I am hyper-sensitive to when I am here is the respect of people's space and cultures. So, at first, I wanted a picture with him, because it is a sweet outfit. On the other hand, I was nervous because I didn't really belong at this event, had no real idea what was going on, and wasn't sure how photo-friendly these events are. I did end up getting a picture with him and a few others and they were glad to talk with us for a few minutes about their club and Mardi Gras and it was cool. And the picture might be one of those I can't get to right now...but thanks to the magic of modern technology and facebook, I can post Tonya's now and then will post my own when I get home: ) Thanks!
The other thing about yesterday's visit that was great was that, since it was at the museum, we got free admission to the museum, which I have wanted to visit since I first came here. There was a main room with artifacts, including an application to the KKK, a slave trade certificate, books by famous African Americans, and more. There were several smaller buildings that had a lot of paintings in them. The paintings had a lot of different pictures of Mardi Gras, slavery, the city, and more. I took a few photos, but also cannot post them right now. If you are interested, google "Ted Ellis Art" and you can view some of his work there.
The second activity of the evening was getting together at Chuckie's (Deborah's sister) to cook New Orleans dinner. So much to say about this one. First, it was great to be in a home again. The hostel is an odd sort of environment, and "homey" isn't really the first descriptor that comes to mind. It was good and needed downtime for a while when everything was being prepared. Right before dinner, the woman I have been working with this week, and her two boys came. I was thinking during the week that it might be nice if they could come, but was really pleasantly surprised to see them last night. I think a lot of times she struggles because she doesn't have a lot of social supports around, so it was great to see her and the boys. that picture, i do have!
The second great surprise to walk in the door was a little boy I had worked with during the summer when I was here in July with the summer camp program. During last year's trip in January, some people from the Binghamton group had worked with a woman who was dealing with all kinds of crap - drugs, violence, poverty, and more. We were amazed to see her this year and to hear her testimony Wednesday. She has been clean for a year, has a better relationship, and recently started a new job. So all of that I had known this week but what I didn't know was that she was the mother of one of the kids I had worked with in July. It is amazing how Binghamton/Ithaca have connected to the people in the city in a way that allows us to work with individuals multiple times and to have work that overlaps to meet needs of different people in the same families. So cool. I ate dinner in amazement last night; amazement of God's orchestration of all of this, of His power, grace, love, and redemption for this woman's life, and what that means for her family. It was just really awesome. So, here he is, first with me. Then, the next picture is a few of the boys with two of the other students in our group.
Dinner was delicious and the company was great. I have talked to people in the group and at home and maybe mentioned on the blog that I have felt sometimes more alone this trip than when I was really alone because the relational part is difficult. Becuase I have experienced the city, and everything that goes with it, in such a different way before, I sometimes feel very emotionally at a different place than the group I am with. It is difficult to explain, and not a bad thing as much as it is an unexpected challenge. That being said, last night I didn't feel alone at all. It was so great. We have a really great group here from school, people with a lot of compassion and heart for others and it is amazing to see those who are on their first trip just fall in love with the city and people. And, in the same room breaking bread we had upper-middle class white college students, an ex-gang banger-turned-Pastor, a woman who has been clean of drugs for a year, children whose potential is so high and who have so much life ahead of them, and two sisters who lived through civil rights movements at a time when all of this never could have happened. Incredible.
We stayed at dinner for quite a while, filled ourselves up, and headed out pretty late. Today is church (WOO!!) then visits with Bruce and Deborah then a group dinner at the famous buffet. I am stoked. Again, thank you so much for your prayers for me and for what is happening here. I have seen God at work in such incredible ways in myself and in others this week and am grateful for the time people take to pray for that each day.
Yesterday morning we slept in a little and then a couple of us went with Deborah to the grocery store to get some things for our evening cooking adventure. After we finished with that, we piled into the van and went to the African American History Museum where there was an unveiling of the Mardi Gras poster for the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club. Now I am not going to pretend to know everything about all of this, but here is what we learned. First, the Zulus are not just in it to party, and if they were, Mardi Gras is about a lot more than what wasted Bourbon Street tourists think it is. The Zulus, as you can imagine from their name, do a lot of social projects in the community, provide a social club for members, and are one of the most famous krews for Mardi Gras. The event we went to is a yearly celebration where they usher in the carnival season by unveiling their yearly poster. One of the cool things about it was that some of them were there in full dress, which means they are covered entirely in costume and face paint. One of the guys there is the "Minister of Fun" and had the sweetest costume of them all. Now, one of the things I am hyper-sensitive to when I am here is the respect of people's space and cultures. So, at first, I wanted a picture with him, because it is a sweet outfit. On the other hand, I was nervous because I didn't really belong at this event, had no real idea what was going on, and wasn't sure how photo-friendly these events are. I did end up getting a picture with him and a few others and they were glad to talk with us for a few minutes about their club and Mardi Gras and it was cool. And the picture might be one of those I can't get to right now...but thanks to the magic of modern technology and facebook, I can post Tonya's now and then will post my own when I get home: ) Thanks!
The other thing about yesterday's visit that was great was that, since it was at the museum, we got free admission to the museum, which I have wanted to visit since I first came here. There was a main room with artifacts, including an application to the KKK, a slave trade certificate, books by famous African Americans, and more. There were several smaller buildings that had a lot of paintings in them. The paintings had a lot of different pictures of Mardi Gras, slavery, the city, and more. I took a few photos, but also cannot post them right now. If you are interested, google "Ted Ellis Art" and you can view some of his work there.
The second activity of the evening was getting together at Chuckie's (Deborah's sister) to cook New Orleans dinner. So much to say about this one. First, it was great to be in a home again. The hostel is an odd sort of environment, and "homey" isn't really the first descriptor that comes to mind. It was good and needed downtime for a while when everything was being prepared. Right before dinner, the woman I have been working with this week, and her two boys came. I was thinking during the week that it might be nice if they could come, but was really pleasantly surprised to see them last night. I think a lot of times she struggles because she doesn't have a lot of social supports around, so it was great to see her and the boys. that picture, i do have!
The second great surprise to walk in the door was a little boy I had worked with during the summer when I was here in July with the summer camp program. During last year's trip in January, some people from the Binghamton group had worked with a woman who was dealing with all kinds of crap - drugs, violence, poverty, and more. We were amazed to see her this year and to hear her testimony Wednesday. She has been clean for a year, has a better relationship, and recently started a new job. So all of that I had known this week but what I didn't know was that she was the mother of one of the kids I had worked with in July. It is amazing how Binghamton/Ithaca have connected to the people in the city in a way that allows us to work with individuals multiple times and to have work that overlaps to meet needs of different people in the same families. So cool. I ate dinner in amazement last night; amazement of God's orchestration of all of this, of His power, grace, love, and redemption for this woman's life, and what that means for her family. It was just really awesome. So, here he is, first with me. Then, the next picture is a few of the boys with two of the other students in our group.
Dinner was delicious and the company was great. I have talked to people in the group and at home and maybe mentioned on the blog that I have felt sometimes more alone this trip than when I was really alone because the relational part is difficult. Becuase I have experienced the city, and everything that goes with it, in such a different way before, I sometimes feel very emotionally at a different place than the group I am with. It is difficult to explain, and not a bad thing as much as it is an unexpected challenge. That being said, last night I didn't feel alone at all. It was so great. We have a really great group here from school, people with a lot of compassion and heart for others and it is amazing to see those who are on their first trip just fall in love with the city and people. And, in the same room breaking bread we had upper-middle class white college students, an ex-gang banger-turned-Pastor, a woman who has been clean of drugs for a year, children whose potential is so high and who have so much life ahead of them, and two sisters who lived through civil rights movements at a time when all of this never could have happened. Incredible.
We stayed at dinner for quite a while, filled ourselves up, and headed out pretty late. Today is church (WOO!!) then visits with Bruce and Deborah then a group dinner at the famous buffet. I am stoked. Again, thank you so much for your prayers for me and for what is happening here. I have seen God at work in such incredible ways in myself and in others this week and am grateful for the time people take to pray for that each day.
The Blitz Bum Rush
Wow. It has been a long time since I updated so I have 2 days to update on and no idea where to start. We have had so little downtime at the hostel so it has been difficult. The sad part is that I am sure I will not remember some things and that some of the good thoughts I may have had if I wrote about them sooner might get lost in the shuffle, but for a lot of reasons I feel an overwhelming obligation to do this, so I hope it can be beneficial for everyone. The title this morning is indicative of what is about to happen...I am going to remember things and just roll with it, and it probably won't be in order at all, but whatever.
Friday morning I was supposed to go with two other students to visit the woman we had seen the two days before. Apparently she is not a morning person, though, and without providing excess details, she chose not to have us come over because we could only come in the morning. At first, this was really disappointing; we had looked forward to seeing her and had some plans about assessments and goal setting that we wanted to do with her. But, at the same time, it felt right to let her make that decision on her own and for us to honor her choice. So often one of the things we deal with in social work is learning how to not do things for people or tell people what we think they should do. This was a good exercise in learning what that is all about. Instead, a few of us went to get coffee at a place down the street. Multiple benefits to this - smaller group process time and good coffee : ).
When we got back to the hostel, everyone piled back into the van to head down to the LVI program where we have had a few students this week. While we waited for them to finish, we got to wander around the area for a bit and visit a sweet thrift store. We also saw this statue:
I am not sure if the picture does justice to the awkwardness, but please, when my time has come, do not create a statue of me wearing an odd sweater with an awkward child next to me. Make a donation or something.
After a while, Pastor Bruce went to the LVI program to talk sex, HIV/AIDS, and whatever else with the students in the program. The rest of our group crowded into a pretty small room for that part and it was really good. Having been a gang banger, abuser, drug addict, and more at one time, Pastor Bruce has a great way of being able to relate to people and to say "I was there once, but look where I am now." It is so amazing how he can remember his own days in that life like it was yesterday and is still so connected to that part of his life that he is able to withold judgment from people who are not there yet. He talked for a while about all kinds of things and it was empowering, encouraging, educational, and entertaining for everyone.
When he was done, we went to the first floor of the building, where women work year-round hand-sewing each bead and sequence onto the Mardi Gras costumes for parades. One of the girls in the program is interested in fashion, so she has been working on the costumes and learning how to use a sewing machine. The costumes were sweet on hangers, but we got one step further yesterday...but we'll get to that later.
After things got wrapped up at LVI, it was time for outreach, aka:condom distribution time. Now, many of you who have been reading my blogs all along know that the church I work with when I am here has an HIV/AIDS program and that part of the program includes passing out free condoms in neighborhoods and popular commercial areas in the city. If you haven't read some of my October blogs about that, please do so. At any rate, a bunch of people from our group went down to the French Quarter to pass them out with Pastor Bruce. We filled bags and went out with a partner. When we got there, my partner looked at me with deer in headlights eyes and said "I don't think I can do this." I assured him it wasn't so bad once you got started and that we would work it out together and off we went. It didn't take long for people in the group to warm up to it, and I had some really interesting observations. It was the first time I had done this in a commercial/touristy area and the reactions were different to say the least. I remember when I had done it the first few times in October that I was really surprised at how receptive to it people were. Not only were people unashamed to take them, but they filled their pockets, had 20 minute conversations about their plans for them, called their friends to come get some, and more. It was awkward for me, but not for them. But in the French Quarter, where tourists from all over are there, the reaction was different. Many people still took them and were glad to - locals and young men in particular. However, it is inadvisable to walk up to upper-middle class, middle-aged white women and ask if the want a free condom. They don't. Now, this is not a statement to get people fired up, and not a value judgement about any age or race of people. It just was such a surprise to me - a total swing of the pendulum in the opposite direction. At one point, my buddy and I walked up to a pair of women, said we were passing out free condoms and would they like any, and the reaction was this: totally ignored. Like, TOTALLY. It was strange. A lot of people gave us dirty looks, said no thanks, and kept walking, but these women just pretended we were invisible. I don't know what I think about that or what theories I have on what it means and where it comes from, but just an observation. I think really it just is a cultural, generational thing about what is taboo to discuss and what isn't. While I respect people's boundaries to a point, people not talking about HIV/AIDS and thinking it won't or can't affect them is part of how the city got to be the second highest infected in the country.
When we had run out of condoms, Pastor Bruce basically couldn't control his happiness. He was beaming as he told us how surprised he was at how we "blitz bum-rushed" Bourbon Street and how he was expecting the group to be really shy, stand on a corner, give out a few, and go home. He estimated at first that we gave out 600-700 condoms, but as the evening progressed, he had grossly overexaggerated it to thousands. Haha. It was great to see him so excited. He joked about following alone with the van on Monday when we do it again.
After we finished that, we met up with the rest of our group at the church, where Pastor Bruce shared more of his story - growing up, the church's history, the storm, and what they are dealing with as results of all of those things. It is amazing to me how every time I am here he seems to open up more and more. He and Deborah deal with so much, but press on, and their lives and stories are real testaments to God's power, and their acknowledgement of God's movement in their lives to change themselves, others, and their communities, speaks volumes to people. I don't think I have ever posted a picture of Deborah, so here is one of Bruce and Deborah that evening.
After that, we blitz bum-rushed a Mexican place in town where we devoured giant burritos and gallons of sweet tea. Post-dinner I was exhausted, so that is when I came back here and wrote the previous blog entry.
Again, I know these are always super long and I know that this trip they haven't been quite as deep or exciting, but thank you for reading.
Friday morning I was supposed to go with two other students to visit the woman we had seen the two days before. Apparently she is not a morning person, though, and without providing excess details, she chose not to have us come over because we could only come in the morning. At first, this was really disappointing; we had looked forward to seeing her and had some plans about assessments and goal setting that we wanted to do with her. But, at the same time, it felt right to let her make that decision on her own and for us to honor her choice. So often one of the things we deal with in social work is learning how to not do things for people or tell people what we think they should do. This was a good exercise in learning what that is all about. Instead, a few of us went to get coffee at a place down the street. Multiple benefits to this - smaller group process time and good coffee : ).
When we got back to the hostel, everyone piled back into the van to head down to the LVI program where we have had a few students this week. While we waited for them to finish, we got to wander around the area for a bit and visit a sweet thrift store. We also saw this statue:
I am not sure if the picture does justice to the awkwardness, but please, when my time has come, do not create a statue of me wearing an odd sweater with an awkward child next to me. Make a donation or something.
After a while, Pastor Bruce went to the LVI program to talk sex, HIV/AIDS, and whatever else with the students in the program. The rest of our group crowded into a pretty small room for that part and it was really good. Having been a gang banger, abuser, drug addict, and more at one time, Pastor Bruce has a great way of being able to relate to people and to say "I was there once, but look where I am now." It is so amazing how he can remember his own days in that life like it was yesterday and is still so connected to that part of his life that he is able to withold judgment from people who are not there yet. He talked for a while about all kinds of things and it was empowering, encouraging, educational, and entertaining for everyone.
When he was done, we went to the first floor of the building, where women work year-round hand-sewing each bead and sequence onto the Mardi Gras costumes for parades. One of the girls in the program is interested in fashion, so she has been working on the costumes and learning how to use a sewing machine. The costumes were sweet on hangers, but we got one step further yesterday...but we'll get to that later.
After things got wrapped up at LVI, it was time for outreach, aka:condom distribution time. Now, many of you who have been reading my blogs all along know that the church I work with when I am here has an HIV/AIDS program and that part of the program includes passing out free condoms in neighborhoods and popular commercial areas in the city. If you haven't read some of my October blogs about that, please do so. At any rate, a bunch of people from our group went down to the French Quarter to pass them out with Pastor Bruce. We filled bags and went out with a partner. When we got there, my partner looked at me with deer in headlights eyes and said "I don't think I can do this." I assured him it wasn't so bad once you got started and that we would work it out together and off we went. It didn't take long for people in the group to warm up to it, and I had some really interesting observations. It was the first time I had done this in a commercial/touristy area and the reactions were different to say the least. I remember when I had done it the first few times in October that I was really surprised at how receptive to it people were. Not only were people unashamed to take them, but they filled their pockets, had 20 minute conversations about their plans for them, called their friends to come get some, and more. It was awkward for me, but not for them. But in the French Quarter, where tourists from all over are there, the reaction was different. Many people still took them and were glad to - locals and young men in particular. However, it is inadvisable to walk up to upper-middle class, middle-aged white women and ask if the want a free condom. They don't. Now, this is not a statement to get people fired up, and not a value judgement about any age or race of people. It just was such a surprise to me - a total swing of the pendulum in the opposite direction. At one point, my buddy and I walked up to a pair of women, said we were passing out free condoms and would they like any, and the reaction was this: totally ignored. Like, TOTALLY. It was strange. A lot of people gave us dirty looks, said no thanks, and kept walking, but these women just pretended we were invisible. I don't know what I think about that or what theories I have on what it means and where it comes from, but just an observation. I think really it just is a cultural, generational thing about what is taboo to discuss and what isn't. While I respect people's boundaries to a point, people not talking about HIV/AIDS and thinking it won't or can't affect them is part of how the city got to be the second highest infected in the country.
When we had run out of condoms, Pastor Bruce basically couldn't control his happiness. He was beaming as he told us how surprised he was at how we "blitz bum-rushed" Bourbon Street and how he was expecting the group to be really shy, stand on a corner, give out a few, and go home. He estimated at first that we gave out 600-700 condoms, but as the evening progressed, he had grossly overexaggerated it to thousands. Haha. It was great to see him so excited. He joked about following alone with the van on Monday when we do it again.
After we finished that, we met up with the rest of our group at the church, where Pastor Bruce shared more of his story - growing up, the church's history, the storm, and what they are dealing with as results of all of those things. It is amazing to me how every time I am here he seems to open up more and more. He and Deborah deal with so much, but press on, and their lives and stories are real testaments to God's power, and their acknowledgement of God's movement in their lives to change themselves, others, and their communities, speaks volumes to people. I don't think I have ever posted a picture of Deborah, so here is one of Bruce and Deborah that evening.
After that, we blitz bum-rushed a Mexican place in town where we devoured giant burritos and gallons of sweet tea. Post-dinner I was exhausted, so that is when I came back here and wrote the previous blog entry.
Again, I know these are always super long and I know that this trip they haven't been quite as deep or exciting, but thank you for reading.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Mississippi Remix
So I have two days of blogging to do and am not really even sure where to start. I guess I will make an attempt to go chronologically and we’ll see what happens after that. Yesterday morning we didn’t end up doing a whole lot because Pastor Bruce had some things to do and he is sort of necessary for our visits and such. After picking up some of the other students from the LVI program that I mentioned in a previous blog, we went on a lengthy tour of post-Katrina New Orleans. This was an odd experience for me in so many ways.
As some of you know, I have been here now a couple of times in the past year, and was also here just after the storm in February of 2006. During that trip I was in Biloxi and Gulfport, Mississippi, which is about an hour from New Orleans. The damage there was different because what we saw there was the result of a 14 foot storm surge wave that basically swept away miles of homes, businesses, and other buildings. What we saw on that beach on the first day we were there blew my mind. It was so vast and I never thought we could make a difference in a week or that the work would ever be done. It was so much worse than anything I had seen on television or could have imagined. My heart broke and most of our group spent a tearful afternoon and evening taking it all in. It’s crazy how I can remember it like it was yesterday. In appreciation and honor of that experience, I wanted to share one picture from that trip. There are so many images from the trip, and few of them available to me right now, but I think this one summarizes so much of my experience there in Mississippi and here in New Orleans. I think that a lot of this experience is about brokenness. Broken systems, broken plans, broken people, broken dreams. I think structures in society are so close to falling. I think that what the storm did was rip the walls off to show and expose the mess of oppression and corruption for what it was and still is. I think I often feel so small when I stand up against it. But you know what? I don't feel alone in the fight. Just like the picture shows things that are broken, structures that aren't sturdy, walls exposing the inside of things, I also am not alone in it. If nothing else, being here with other people has reminded me in a powerful way that, though the fight and the mess are huge, there are so many people doing this together and it can change.
Since then, I have been 3 other times, all within the past year, and have seen New Orleans and how this city was affected by Katrina, which was a little different. Here, there was excessive flooding and water that sat in the city for weeks. When we went on the tour yesterday, there were very few places I have not seen before. So, here are a few images from that and the scoop on what we saw and how I processed all of it. Again, a reminder that it’s my blog so I write the truth and do my best to leave it uncensored because it doesn’t do anyone a favor to sugar coat the truth.
These are two images from the same area. I remember in Mississippi how saddened we all were to see people's belongings strewn about - clothing, photos, shoes, toys. All of the material things people owned, all over their homes. This time, there are clothes still hanging in closets in one of the condemned housing project in the 9th ward near the lake. The sad thing is that since poor people seem to have no value to those in power, the project was originally built on sinking sand anyway, and after the storm, officials never let families go back in to get their things. And now, the brick walls are gone because buildings are falling apart and people's belongings are so close and yet, so far from reach. Thinking about it, another photo worth a thousand metaphoric words for the experience of many here: there is wealth, success, and power to be had in this city, for sure. Even for individuals of color. And yet, just on the other side of the highway, so many individuals live so far out of reach of those things that there might just as well be an ocean between the two.
We started the tour in the Seventh ward, which has been my stomping grounds with Pastor Bruce throughout this year. As we drove a few blocks from the church we saw a group of people looking very touristy, walking through a yard taking pictures of a home that hasn’t been touched since the storm. My reaction to that was “really?!” It was as though I was shocked and offended and angered that people would get out and walk all over someone’s yard and take pictures of their destroyed home, as if to put their pain on display. That being said, a few minutes later, when people in my own group did the same thing, I didn’t have that reaction at all. I knew that people in my group were in the area to do good work and were taking pictures to share with those they know to keep telling people about the stories of the storm and show how much work still needs to be done. And, I got out a few times to take photos myself. I don’t know why it is important to share that, except that it was an odd sort of lesson about what is perceived and what is intended and how it matters.
Related to that, I didn’t feel like a tourist at all. I felt more like a tour guide finally getting to share in person with others what I have been looking at and experiencing here this year. I so much appreciate how much everyone at home will look at my pictures, read my blog, and hear my stories during and after my trips. However, there is an element about all of this that is just hard to explain without being here with me. I was surprised at the ownership I felt of the city, especially the Seventh ward and how I felt like I was sharing my neighborhood with others. Now, don’t get all fired up – I know that I am still so far removed from the storm experiences of the individuals who live here and the issues of oppression that they live through. However, I think each time someone shares their story with you, it becomes a part of you, and the distance between the lives you lead shortens. I have heard so many stories and seen so much that I feel incredibly connected to the neighborhood and for that, I am very grateful. I am always amazed at how quickly and easily people invite me into their lives, revisiting such a traumatic experience in order to share it with me. And it’s because of that that I find myself with this incredible feeling of ownership of part of the city.
On a less serious note, Deborah thought it was okay to pick kumquats from a bush/tree we saw when we got out at one of the levees..photo op? why not..
After a lot of touring, the group dropped myself and two other students back off to visit again with the woman we saw the day before. We did not do a lot of intense talking or “social work” but it was good to see her and I think it meant a lot to her that we followed through on our word that we would be there. Again, when we left she embraced us, thanked us for coming, and walked, beaming, out of the house to say hi to Pastor Bruce. After that we came back to the hostile for dinner, had our check-in, and then some free time. It is amazing the work that God is doing here in me and through the individuals we have been able to meet. The faith of the people of New Orleans blows my mind every time I am here.
Because there is so much more to write in order to play catch-up, I think that is all for Thursday. Again, thank you for reading, supporting, talking, listening, and praying. God is at work here in so many ways and I am so blessed to be part of it.
As some of you know, I have been here now a couple of times in the past year, and was also here just after the storm in February of 2006. During that trip I was in Biloxi and Gulfport, Mississippi, which is about an hour from New Orleans. The damage there was different because what we saw there was the result of a 14 foot storm surge wave that basically swept away miles of homes, businesses, and other buildings. What we saw on that beach on the first day we were there blew my mind. It was so vast and I never thought we could make a difference in a week or that the work would ever be done. It was so much worse than anything I had seen on television or could have imagined. My heart broke and most of our group spent a tearful afternoon and evening taking it all in. It’s crazy how I can remember it like it was yesterday. In appreciation and honor of that experience, I wanted to share one picture from that trip. There are so many images from the trip, and few of them available to me right now, but I think this one summarizes so much of my experience there in Mississippi and here in New Orleans. I think that a lot of this experience is about brokenness. Broken systems, broken plans, broken people, broken dreams. I think structures in society are so close to falling. I think that what the storm did was rip the walls off to show and expose the mess of oppression and corruption for what it was and still is. I think I often feel so small when I stand up against it. But you know what? I don't feel alone in the fight. Just like the picture shows things that are broken, structures that aren't sturdy, walls exposing the inside of things, I also am not alone in it. If nothing else, being here with other people has reminded me in a powerful way that, though the fight and the mess are huge, there are so many people doing this together and it can change.
Since then, I have been 3 other times, all within the past year, and have seen New Orleans and how this city was affected by Katrina, which was a little different. Here, there was excessive flooding and water that sat in the city for weeks. When we went on the tour yesterday, there were very few places I have not seen before. So, here are a few images from that and the scoop on what we saw and how I processed all of it. Again, a reminder that it’s my blog so I write the truth and do my best to leave it uncensored because it doesn’t do anyone a favor to sugar coat the truth.
These are two images from the same area. I remember in Mississippi how saddened we all were to see people's belongings strewn about - clothing, photos, shoes, toys. All of the material things people owned, all over their homes. This time, there are clothes still hanging in closets in one of the condemned housing project in the 9th ward near the lake. The sad thing is that since poor people seem to have no value to those in power, the project was originally built on sinking sand anyway, and after the storm, officials never let families go back in to get their things. And now, the brick walls are gone because buildings are falling apart and people's belongings are so close and yet, so far from reach. Thinking about it, another photo worth a thousand metaphoric words for the experience of many here: there is wealth, success, and power to be had in this city, for sure. Even for individuals of color. And yet, just on the other side of the highway, so many individuals live so far out of reach of those things that there might just as well be an ocean between the two.
We started the tour in the Seventh ward, which has been my stomping grounds with Pastor Bruce throughout this year. As we drove a few blocks from the church we saw a group of people looking very touristy, walking through a yard taking pictures of a home that hasn’t been touched since the storm. My reaction to that was “really?!” It was as though I was shocked and offended and angered that people would get out and walk all over someone’s yard and take pictures of their destroyed home, as if to put their pain on display. That being said, a few minutes later, when people in my own group did the same thing, I didn’t have that reaction at all. I knew that people in my group were in the area to do good work and were taking pictures to share with those they know to keep telling people about the stories of the storm and show how much work still needs to be done. And, I got out a few times to take photos myself. I don’t know why it is important to share that, except that it was an odd sort of lesson about what is perceived and what is intended and how it matters.
Related to that, I didn’t feel like a tourist at all. I felt more like a tour guide finally getting to share in person with others what I have been looking at and experiencing here this year. I so much appreciate how much everyone at home will look at my pictures, read my blog, and hear my stories during and after my trips. However, there is an element about all of this that is just hard to explain without being here with me. I was surprised at the ownership I felt of the city, especially the Seventh ward and how I felt like I was sharing my neighborhood with others. Now, don’t get all fired up – I know that I am still so far removed from the storm experiences of the individuals who live here and the issues of oppression that they live through. However, I think each time someone shares their story with you, it becomes a part of you, and the distance between the lives you lead shortens. I have heard so many stories and seen so much that I feel incredibly connected to the neighborhood and for that, I am very grateful. I am always amazed at how quickly and easily people invite me into their lives, revisiting such a traumatic experience in order to share it with me. And it’s because of that that I find myself with this incredible feeling of ownership of part of the city.
On a less serious note, Deborah thought it was okay to pick kumquats from a bush/tree we saw when we got out at one of the levees..photo op? why not..
After a lot of touring, the group dropped myself and two other students back off to visit again with the woman we saw the day before. We did not do a lot of intense talking or “social work” but it was good to see her and I think it meant a lot to her that we followed through on our word that we would be there. Again, when we left she embraced us, thanked us for coming, and walked, beaming, out of the house to say hi to Pastor Bruce. After that we came back to the hostile for dinner, had our check-in, and then some free time. It is amazing the work that God is doing here in me and through the individuals we have been able to meet. The faith of the people of New Orleans blows my mind every time I am here.
Because there is so much more to write in order to play catch-up, I think that is all for Thursday. Again, thank you for reading, supporting, talking, listening, and praying. God is at work here in so many ways and I am so blessed to be part of it.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
I Used to Smoke Crack
So yesterday was a great first day for myself and the rest of the group. Without indulging on the stories of the rest of my group members, it sounded like everyone got to meet some great people, see important parts of the city, and learn a lot, so I am thankful for that. Yesterday was quite full, so here we go.
First, we got up and had breakfast at the hostel, which did not include feta cheese, but I think I'll survive. Next, we went downtown to a program called Limitless Vistas Inc. which provides job training to young adults ages 18-25 to prepare them for the workforce. We met the director and a few students and got to hear some more about the program before leaving a few of our group members there for the day.
After that, we drove around downtown a bit, Pastor Bruce showing us the different homeless shelters in town and where the homeless people congregate here. Again, I have been ehre before, so I have seen them, but it is still always mindboggling to really consider what it must be like to only own what you can carry, live outside all of the time, have no one you can really trust, never be able to fully relax, have no idea where your next meal will come from, and for many, also have to deal with that in the midst of a mental illness. One of the things New Orleans, and many cities, have done is make it near impossible for homeless individuals to live in many parts of the city. The benches have multiple armrests or are rounded in a way to make sleeping on them impossible. Shelters had to move and/or close after Katrina, so there are not adequate shelters for people who are homeless. At that, the shelter doesn't open until 5pm, so when we went by at 10am, people were just standing outside the door waiting. One of the odd things that I saw was a homeless white woman. In the grand scheme of homelessness, here especially, it is primarily men of color who are homeless, but not women, and not white ones. I am not sure what I have to say about that, but thought it was worth mentioning I guess.
After that, we drove to the home of a woman who lives down the street from the church, but I didn't stay. After dropping off most of the group, I rode with another student, one of our supervisors, and Deborah to see a young woman who I had met in October. She is in the middle of a custody mess, has little family support, and has been especially discouraged since the holidays. On the drive to her house, the other student and I drilled Deborah with questions about the woman's family, life, education, and more, just trying to get a fast-forward info session on who she was and what we could do for her. When we got to the house, I was nervous because I wasn't sure how she would react - would she want us there? was she going to talk to us? and when she started talking about tough stuff, would I have anything to say that could help her? But, soon after we got there, things started going really well. She actually really did want us there and really appreciated just having someone to listen. She doesn't have a lot of family support - they are far away and have stressed relationships to say the least so it meant a lot to her just to have people listen. She answered questions about what was going on in her life and talked about her frustrations for quite a while. I was really blessed to be there with the student who had come with me, because we seemed to be able to work with each other well. We got to tag-team questions and I was able to see what it looks like to genuinely encourage someone. The student who went with me is a mom, so she was able to share that with the woman and later when the woman talked about her strength coming from God, I was able to talk with her about that. Good stuff. It is always a really powerful part of being here to see the trust that people have in God despite some really challending circumstances in their lives. We are going back today, just to visit really, and I am looking forward to it. It makes you realize the power of just giving someone your time - she knew we couldn't change her custody situation, but was encouraged just to have people to listen for a bit. The other part about this awesome visit that is worth mentioning is that she has the most adorable 1 year old boy ever and we got to play with him some while we talked to the mother. Another reminder of how plyable young kids are - anything can happen.
After that, we all re-grouped at the house for a bit before making a snack run to Rouse's, the Wegmans of New Orleans. While this is not the most important part of my day, I am glad to say I found S'mores goldfish...really - great snack. After that, a few students went to make another visit, while the rest of us had some time to relax, process, and talk for a bit until dinner. During a quick dinner, we had our group talk time, and it was really good to hear about what everyone did during the day - visits to ex-gangsters, sick elderly women, a girl recovering from surgery, and more. People really just needing to be reminded that someone cares. Good stuff.
When we finished dinner, we went to "Hour of Power" at the church, and most people in the group ended up going, which was nice. Hour of Power is just a time for people to share what God is doing in their life that week. There were only 2 other church members there, but they each shared incredible stories of what their lives used to be and how God brought them from that into a better life. From both of them we heard about how they "used to smoke crack", had been abused, homeless, addicted, dealing, and more, but somehow God found them in that and brought them out of it. One of the women actually had worked with some of the Binghamton group last year and it was great to see how much her life had changed since then. Again, it's crazy the difference a year can make. It all was really encouraging, to be reminded of how great God is, of the things he can pull people from and the hope that there is for every person and situation to get better.
This is going to seem oxymoronic, but after church, we went down to the French Quarter for a bit. It never is terribly exciting, and since it was a weekday and there are no games or holidays coming up, it was kind of a small crowd, which is just as well. We did get to visit the shadow thing on a church I had heard of last January but didn't see, and it is pretty sweet.
After the cathedral, we walked through Jackson Square over to see the Mississippi River, which basically makes me want to be Tom Sawyer. Here is the student part of our group at the river.
(Our leaders joined in later for Beignets at Cafe du Monde)
Then, of course, we went to the Cafe du Monde and had beignets, which are like a cross between fried dough and donuts, covered in a generous mountain of powdered sugar. Delicious.
After that, we hopped on the streetcar, headed back to the hostel and promptly went to sleep. All in all, a good day. People got to see and learn a lot, so please keep praying for more of that this week. Thank you, yet again for reading, and see - I promised they would get longer : )
First, we got up and had breakfast at the hostel, which did not include feta cheese, but I think I'll survive. Next, we went downtown to a program called Limitless Vistas Inc. which provides job training to young adults ages 18-25 to prepare them for the workforce. We met the director and a few students and got to hear some more about the program before leaving a few of our group members there for the day.
After that, we drove around downtown a bit, Pastor Bruce showing us the different homeless shelters in town and where the homeless people congregate here. Again, I have been ehre before, so I have seen them, but it is still always mindboggling to really consider what it must be like to only own what you can carry, live outside all of the time, have no one you can really trust, never be able to fully relax, have no idea where your next meal will come from, and for many, also have to deal with that in the midst of a mental illness. One of the things New Orleans, and many cities, have done is make it near impossible for homeless individuals to live in many parts of the city. The benches have multiple armrests or are rounded in a way to make sleeping on them impossible. Shelters had to move and/or close after Katrina, so there are not adequate shelters for people who are homeless. At that, the shelter doesn't open until 5pm, so when we went by at 10am, people were just standing outside the door waiting. One of the odd things that I saw was a homeless white woman. In the grand scheme of homelessness, here especially, it is primarily men of color who are homeless, but not women, and not white ones. I am not sure what I have to say about that, but thought it was worth mentioning I guess.
After that, we drove to the home of a woman who lives down the street from the church, but I didn't stay. After dropping off most of the group, I rode with another student, one of our supervisors, and Deborah to see a young woman who I had met in October. She is in the middle of a custody mess, has little family support, and has been especially discouraged since the holidays. On the drive to her house, the other student and I drilled Deborah with questions about the woman's family, life, education, and more, just trying to get a fast-forward info session on who she was and what we could do for her. When we got to the house, I was nervous because I wasn't sure how she would react - would she want us there? was she going to talk to us? and when she started talking about tough stuff, would I have anything to say that could help her? But, soon after we got there, things started going really well. She actually really did want us there and really appreciated just having someone to listen. She doesn't have a lot of family support - they are far away and have stressed relationships to say the least so it meant a lot to her just to have people listen. She answered questions about what was going on in her life and talked about her frustrations for quite a while. I was really blessed to be there with the student who had come with me, because we seemed to be able to work with each other well. We got to tag-team questions and I was able to see what it looks like to genuinely encourage someone. The student who went with me is a mom, so she was able to share that with the woman and later when the woman talked about her strength coming from God, I was able to talk with her about that. Good stuff. It is always a really powerful part of being here to see the trust that people have in God despite some really challending circumstances in their lives. We are going back today, just to visit really, and I am looking forward to it. It makes you realize the power of just giving someone your time - she knew we couldn't change her custody situation, but was encouraged just to have people to listen for a bit. The other part about this awesome visit that is worth mentioning is that she has the most adorable 1 year old boy ever and we got to play with him some while we talked to the mother. Another reminder of how plyable young kids are - anything can happen.
After that, we all re-grouped at the house for a bit before making a snack run to Rouse's, the Wegmans of New Orleans. While this is not the most important part of my day, I am glad to say I found S'mores goldfish...really - great snack. After that, a few students went to make another visit, while the rest of us had some time to relax, process, and talk for a bit until dinner. During a quick dinner, we had our group talk time, and it was really good to hear about what everyone did during the day - visits to ex-gangsters, sick elderly women, a girl recovering from surgery, and more. People really just needing to be reminded that someone cares. Good stuff.
When we finished dinner, we went to "Hour of Power" at the church, and most people in the group ended up going, which was nice. Hour of Power is just a time for people to share what God is doing in their life that week. There were only 2 other church members there, but they each shared incredible stories of what their lives used to be and how God brought them from that into a better life. From both of them we heard about how they "used to smoke crack", had been abused, homeless, addicted, dealing, and more, but somehow God found them in that and brought them out of it. One of the women actually had worked with some of the Binghamton group last year and it was great to see how much her life had changed since then. Again, it's crazy the difference a year can make. It all was really encouraging, to be reminded of how great God is, of the things he can pull people from and the hope that there is for every person and situation to get better.
This is going to seem oxymoronic, but after church, we went down to the French Quarter for a bit. It never is terribly exciting, and since it was a weekday and there are no games or holidays coming up, it was kind of a small crowd, which is just as well. We did get to visit the shadow thing on a church I had heard of last January but didn't see, and it is pretty sweet.
After the cathedral, we walked through Jackson Square over to see the Mississippi River, which basically makes me want to be Tom Sawyer. Here is the student part of our group at the river.
(Our leaders joined in later for Beignets at Cafe du Monde)
Then, of course, we went to the Cafe du Monde and had beignets, which are like a cross between fried dough and donuts, covered in a generous mountain of powdered sugar. Delicious.
After that, we hopped on the streetcar, headed back to the hostel and promptly went to sleep. All in all, a good day. People got to see and learn a lot, so please keep praying for more of that this week. Thank you, yet again for reading, and see - I promised they would get longer : )
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
"And there's the pool if you want to swim"
So I had some computer issues last night, hence the late post from yesterday, but now real quick before breakfast i'm going to try to get in some things from our travel and first day.
First, travel yesterday was flawless. We all got where we needed to go on time and everyone’s luggage came with us. The weather was great when we arrived – sunny and toasty. Pastor Bruce and Deborah picked us up and it was really good to see them. Bruce showed the new travelers some of his special driving “techniques” and then we eventually got to the India House, the hostel where we are staying this week. (www.indiahousehostel.com)
Basically, it is a set of 4 or 5 houses filled with bunkbeds. There is some community space out back with laundry, showers, a pool (?), some tables, a stage for a band to play, and just some sitting space with a little pond. There is a main house with a kitchen and dining area, a couple of common rooms, and the main desk. Our “house” is like a shotgun, but with a very high roof. We go in through the back and have a bathroom then 4 bedrooms that just sort of flow into each other. I was expecting 4 inches of personal space when I imagined the hostel situation, so this is pretty plush. I mean, hey, it’s not like we’re sleeping on tarps or anything. erAll around there are all kinds of paintings. I'll post some more later on, but here is a picture of a painting and the fish pond.
So after we got here and settled in, we took a walk down the street for snacks. No Comment. When we got back, Pastor Bruce came over to the hostel and shared a half hour sort of “low down” on New Orleans culture, some of the issues that the city deals with, and some of the people that we will be working with this week. It was crazy how fast that familiar feeling came back, of holding in balance the extreme hurt, violence, and prejudice the city has, and the powerful hope that Pastor Bruce has which allows him to really believe that it can get better. It always helps to remember that at one time he was in quite a mess with his own life, but someone investing in him changed his life, and if there’s hope for him, there’s hope for anyone else.
The one part of yesterday that was really tough was that during his talk, Pastor Bruce shared that the woman I saw in October who was dying of AIDS passed away a few weeks ago. I knew that already, but he also shared with us that she hasn’t been buried yet because her family can’t afford it. The church did a funeral for her, but that’s all they can do. It’s one of the things that I deal with in when I am here is the “are you kidding me” thoughts that constantly go through my head. I remember after Katrina how outraged Americans in other parts of the country were that people were herded like cattle into the Superdome and onto bridges, denied food and water, and basically left for dead on the rooftops of their homes. But part of why it is so important to me to do the blog is to remind people that stuff like that goes on every day, right here in America. People spend and spend on stuff, acquire tons of money, and other are lying dead in morgues because their families can’t afford to bury them.
On that light note, that is about all for yesterday and it is time for breakfast. No idea really what is in store for today, so please keep praying for “God appointments” for our time here. Thanks for reading, and don’t be disappointed – I’m sure the blogs will be super long again soon.
First, travel yesterday was flawless. We all got where we needed to go on time and everyone’s luggage came with us. The weather was great when we arrived – sunny and toasty. Pastor Bruce and Deborah picked us up and it was really good to see them. Bruce showed the new travelers some of his special driving “techniques” and then we eventually got to the India House, the hostel where we are staying this week. (www.indiahousehostel.com)
Basically, it is a set of 4 or 5 houses filled with bunkbeds. There is some community space out back with laundry, showers, a pool (?), some tables, a stage for a band to play, and just some sitting space with a little pond. There is a main house with a kitchen and dining area, a couple of common rooms, and the main desk. Our “house” is like a shotgun, but with a very high roof. We go in through the back and have a bathroom then 4 bedrooms that just sort of flow into each other. I was expecting 4 inches of personal space when I imagined the hostel situation, so this is pretty plush. I mean, hey, it’s not like we’re sleeping on tarps or anything. erAll around there are all kinds of paintings. I'll post some more later on, but here is a picture of a painting and the fish pond.
So after we got here and settled in, we took a walk down the street for snacks. No Comment. When we got back, Pastor Bruce came over to the hostel and shared a half hour sort of “low down” on New Orleans culture, some of the issues that the city deals with, and some of the people that we will be working with this week. It was crazy how fast that familiar feeling came back, of holding in balance the extreme hurt, violence, and prejudice the city has, and the powerful hope that Pastor Bruce has which allows him to really believe that it can get better. It always helps to remember that at one time he was in quite a mess with his own life, but someone investing in him changed his life, and if there’s hope for him, there’s hope for anyone else.
The one part of yesterday that was really tough was that during his talk, Pastor Bruce shared that the woman I saw in October who was dying of AIDS passed away a few weeks ago. I knew that already, but he also shared with us that she hasn’t been buried yet because her family can’t afford it. The church did a funeral for her, but that’s all they can do. It’s one of the things that I deal with in when I am here is the “are you kidding me” thoughts that constantly go through my head. I remember after Katrina how outraged Americans in other parts of the country were that people were herded like cattle into the Superdome and onto bridges, denied food and water, and basically left for dead on the rooftops of their homes. But part of why it is so important to me to do the blog is to remind people that stuff like that goes on every day, right here in America. People spend and spend on stuff, acquire tons of money, and other are lying dead in morgues because their families can’t afford to bury them.
On that light note, that is about all for yesterday and it is time for breakfast. No idea really what is in store for today, so please keep praying for “God appointments” for our time here. Thanks for reading, and don’t be disappointed – I’m sure the blogs will be super long again soon.
We're Here!
Even though this will not be posted until later tonight, I am currently flying from Detroit to Atlanta on leg #2 of this trip to New Orleans. It is crazy to me to think that my first trip was just this time last year. Due to the time of year, I have been thinking a lot lately about the difference a year can make in a person’s life, at how much work God can do with a year, and all that can change in a year. I will start by saying how grateful I am that He has orchestrated all of my New Orleans experiences into my life. I have seen and learned things I am not sure I could have learned otherwise. I have grown immensely in my faith, my character, and as a social worker. It is a city that lives in a paradoxical state of being incredibly heartbreaking and yet magical at the same time and each person I have met there has challenged me and helped me to grow in countless ways. For this trip, I don’t know exactly what to expect, but I know God is good and am trusting in Him to use this week to do some good work in me and in others.
This round is a little different than the previous two have been. Instead of traveling on my own, this time I am traveling with a group of students and two instructors from my MSW program at Binghamton. The MSW program has coordinated a student-lead trip for 4 years now to do disaster mental health work in the 7th ward, also working with Pastor Bruce and his many community programs. During this trip we will be staying in a hostel in the downtown area. This will be a new experience for me, but I am excited I have been promised that I don’t have to shower in the trailer of an 18 wheeler (wooo post-Katrina work in Mississippi), so it will be just fine. Another difference between my past two trips and this one is that we do not go with a specific plan in mind for what we will be doing when we get there. In the past, I knew the program that I would be spending most of my time with and then filled in the gaps during the week. This week, however, because things in New Orleans are so hectic, and because it allows us to be open to whatever opportunities arise, we will not have an agenda. In some ways I still have to work at embracing this, but in others, I am grateful for it.
That being said, I do have some hopes and goals for this week. I am hoping we get to do some some home visits, because they are always a favorite for me, just getting to visit people who aren’t able to get out much. I also enjoyed and was positively challenged by my outreach experiences with the HIV/AIDS program in October and would like to do that again. It has potential to be fun, awkward, educational, and empowering – both for myself and the community – so that is a hope. Also, having been a few times before myself and having been forced to work through some tough stuff related to race, class, politics, HIV/AIDS and more, I am hoping to be able to provide some support to those in our group who are new to this experience. It can be difficult to work through it alone, and I was really blessed during my experiences to have others to talk through things with, to get to process and share through the blog, and to have had some really key learning opportunities beforehand that set me up for understanding, so I hope I can work with others through all of that. That being said, I hope to also be challenged myself this week. I never really know what it is I expect to experience or learn or be changed by, but my previous experiences in New Orleans, both with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and with Pastor Bruce and Saint John’s, I have grown in my faith and in my understanding of the social work concepts I am learning in school. I hope for both of these things again, recognizing and embracing the fact that it could happen in a variety of ways.
Word is that the hostel has wireless, so I am hoping to be able to post pretty regularly again. I like to have this as a tool to process all of it for myself, but also to share stories of people who have largely been neglected, judged, and forgotten. I hope, as always, that you will take some time to read it each day, be challenged by what comes up, share it with others, and that you would take some time to pray for myself, my group and those you read about. Let the turtle-ing begin
This round is a little different than the previous two have been. Instead of traveling on my own, this time I am traveling with a group of students and two instructors from my MSW program at Binghamton. The MSW program has coordinated a student-lead trip for 4 years now to do disaster mental health work in the 7th ward, also working with Pastor Bruce and his many community programs. During this trip we will be staying in a hostel in the downtown area. This will be a new experience for me, but I am excited I have been promised that I don’t have to shower in the trailer of an 18 wheeler (wooo post-Katrina work in Mississippi), so it will be just fine. Another difference between my past two trips and this one is that we do not go with a specific plan in mind for what we will be doing when we get there. In the past, I knew the program that I would be spending most of my time with and then filled in the gaps during the week. This week, however, because things in New Orleans are so hectic, and because it allows us to be open to whatever opportunities arise, we will not have an agenda. In some ways I still have to work at embracing this, but in others, I am grateful for it.
That being said, I do have some hopes and goals for this week. I am hoping we get to do some some home visits, because they are always a favorite for me, just getting to visit people who aren’t able to get out much. I also enjoyed and was positively challenged by my outreach experiences with the HIV/AIDS program in October and would like to do that again. It has potential to be fun, awkward, educational, and empowering – both for myself and the community – so that is a hope. Also, having been a few times before myself and having been forced to work through some tough stuff related to race, class, politics, HIV/AIDS and more, I am hoping to be able to provide some support to those in our group who are new to this experience. It can be difficult to work through it alone, and I was really blessed during my experiences to have others to talk through things with, to get to process and share through the blog, and to have had some really key learning opportunities beforehand that set me up for understanding, so I hope I can work with others through all of that. That being said, I hope to also be challenged myself this week. I never really know what it is I expect to experience or learn or be changed by, but my previous experiences in New Orleans, both with Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and with Pastor Bruce and Saint John’s, I have grown in my faith and in my understanding of the social work concepts I am learning in school. I hope for both of these things again, recognizing and embracing the fact that it could happen in a variety of ways.
Word is that the hostel has wireless, so I am hoping to be able to post pretty regularly again. I like to have this as a tool to process all of it for myself, but also to share stories of people who have largely been neglected, judged, and forgotten. I hope, as always, that you will take some time to read it each day, be challenged by what comes up, share it with others, and that you would take some time to pray for myself, my group and those you read about. Let the turtle-ing begin
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