new orleans update

this is a bit old now....i wrote it after i got back from new orleans but i have been on the road working the last couple of weeks and haven't had a chance to post it. so here it is:

Here is a short update about the Food Not Bombs trip to the Gulf region.

After loading up with food supplies here in Fort Collins, additional food (cereal, canned fruit, baby formula) was added in Denver. We then proceeded to Houston, where we found the evacuees from New Orleans were now being sent to Arkansas in anticipation of Hurricane Rita. As a result, we continued on to New Orleans where the Common Ground Collective, FNB, and various community/neighborhood leaders were working together in solidarity and relief. We arrived at the Common Ground Collective, which is based at a community elder’s home in the Algiers neighborhood. It was incredible what this little group was doing. It had just sprung up in the aftermath of the hurricane but was already really successful because it was working at a community level. They had set up a free community clinic which, by the time we left, had already served over 800 people. They had distributed huge amounts of food, water, and ice (over 14 tons of food) and were engaged in all sorts of activities, including cleaning storm drains to prevent flooding from the rain of Hurricane Rita, helping community members clean out their flooded homes, developing communication and solidarity with other neighborhoods suffering from neglect, and many other tasks. The food supplies from Fort Collins/Denver ended up at Mamma D’s house in the 9th Ward of New Orleans. She is a community elder who has stayed through the hurricanes; she has acted as a center for food, water, and ice distribution throughout the neighborhood, as well as a source for much needed emotional support.

So, I think the supplies got to an excellent place where they will be used by those who need it. The food is being used directly and in a way that is not charity or handouts but is instead a system of solidarity and cooperation. I just wanted to let you know all that, and that folks were really happy to know that people all over are thinking about them and lending there hands and hearts.

So, that is the quick update and thankyou. Below is a longer description of the collective, some of its activities, and comments concerning the realities for the people in New Orleans, as they were related to me.

Common Ground Collective is a group that has formed around the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina to meet the needs of the people in New Orleans and the surrounding area. It is centered at a community elder’s home; about 30-40 people were staying there, camping in the yard and using the home as a base for operations which included storm drain cleaning (in an effort to alleviate potential flooding with the coming of Hurricane Rita), food and water distribution (when we left, about 14 tons of food had been distributed), cleaning up flooded homes (work had just begun on Mamma D’s home—she and volunteers from the collective were in the process of cleaning out the ground level of her home so that it could be used to house additional people working with the local communities. There was much to be done; the flooding had really destroyed the place—truckloads of contaminated items were removed, the dry wall will have to be taken out, and the entire place sterilized with lime and bleach), developing and maintaining contact with other neighborhoods and communities affected by the hurricane, and many other tasks. A few blocks away the collective operated a free community clinic that had treated more than 800 people at the time we left.

New Orleans was pretty quiet. Few people were about. The military and police were numerous, enforcing curfews at night and apparently on various patrols during the day. A lot of time, the military seemed to be just sitting around which is weird because there was so much to do. Talking with Mamma D, her companion Merk, and others, I was presented with a picture much different than I had seen presented at home. Mamma D told me that the only food they had received (other than through the community—like the food that we transported) were bags of hard candy that were airdropped by the American Red Cross. When the people in the neighborhood saw the airdrops they got together and set out in canoes to retrieve the food so that it could be distributed to the elderly and others who weren’t able to get to it. What they found were bags of two year old expired candy. Horehound hard candy. She showed be a whole plastic barrel of the candy that they had collected. And as for water—one day the military drove by and two jugs of water were thrown into her front yard. They were still sitting there, unused. She told me that the folks in the community were taking care of each other, that they didn’t need this excuse for aid.

Another thing she told me about was how the government was bringing in contractors to do the work that people in the community were already doing, and doing much better. She gave an example: one day contractors showed up and began piling debris from the streets together, especially fallen tree limbs. They piled the debris together at one end of the street. The next day they came back and pushed it to the other end of the block. Then they returned a third time and pushed it again. As Mamma D said, the government tells people that they have to leave there homes, then come by and point rifles at their heads. All the while, these people are cleaning up their homes and their streets and getting it done. But the government says no, you have to leave and we will bring in paid contractors to do the very jobs you are already doing. Why not pay people in the community to do these jobs? They know what needs to be done and have a very vested interest in seeing that it does indeed get done properly. In Algiers, across the river from the city proper, folks were cleaning out the storm drains, knowing that when the rains of Rita hit, the neighborhood would flood without cleans storm drains. The National Guard wasn’t doing this, FEMA wasn’t doing this. But the people were. And they got it done.

Another thing that Mamma D and others pointed out was that all of this, whether intentional or not, is a big windfall for the real estate business. The simple fact is the longer people are away from their homes, the less chance there will be of ever returning. The house rots, black mold spreads, the house becomes unlivable. But the people who are there are cleaning. The Common Ground Collective is distributing buckets full of safety and cleaning gear (masks, sterilization and disinfectant supplies, etc). One man biked over to Mamma D’s place while we were cleaning out the ground floor. He didn’t know that she was still at home; he saw her and began crying. Mamma D hugged him and said it was going to be alright, that they were going to get things cleaned up and figured out and that they would stick together. He said he was with his mother and had started trying to clean up. Mamma D gave him one of the cleanup buckets and he was so happy. And he was so happy to just see Mamma D and feel like he had some support, some community. It was really cool.

It really does seem like change is happening there. Real, deep change. People know that this is not the result of a hurricane but of decades and decades of neglect and they are determined to do something about it. And they aren’t waiting around for the state to do it, because it won’t. People are doing it themselves, together. A small boat was donated to the collective and Malik, whose home is the base for the Common Ground Collective, said something like “we’re gonna load up this boat with some supplies and people and we’re taking it to Texas, to show the people there what we have learned from our experiences here and to help in solidarity.” All of this was incredibly exciting and hopeful to see; I could feel the energy, the community, and the determination that were flowing through all the people working so hard together. And now, when I think about it, I can't help but feel the strength of all these people, and I smile.