Desire #28 Summer 2009

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observat ions and opinions about new or leans summer 2009

28

Photograph © 2009 Jackson Hill

THanks

This special issue

commemorates the fourth anniversary

of the levee breaks following

Hurricane Katrina and

celebrates four young individuals

who reacted to what they saw

happening in New Orleans.

They came to help

and decided to stay.

THanks

In the summer of 2005, I decided to leave my job and go back to school. I had always been fascinated with the properties of water and urban water systems, so I

searched for a Masters program that offered

a water management track. I became inter-ested in New Orleans’ urban water infrastructure and its “below-sea-level” challenges ever since I used it as a case study in my Urban Ecolog y course. I found out about Tulane School of Public

Hea l th and p ro ceeded to apply for their Water

Quality Management Program.

I was scheduled to take the GRE in early September of 2005 and

enroll in Tulane in January 2006. Well, Katrina happened and it flipped my priorities.

So many things flooded my mind — is my mother’s house okay, are our friends okay, should I cancel the

GRE, and do I get refunded. Is Tulane gone? Since I had no plan B, I prayed and stayed optimistic about coming to New Orleans. When I got accepted into Tulane, I knew that I would be packing up and heading for the change of my life.

Around graduation I was approached by a classmate, Andrea Floyd, who asked me if I was satisfied with my contribution to the rebuilding process. I knew I wasn’t. We formed Consciously Rebuilding — not immediately as there was a 5 month gestation period that included volunteering, internships, strategic planning, social net-working, finding a niche, and blood, sweat and tears.

Our programs include Green Consultations, Health Fairs, and

Glass Recycling Arts Program. We have hosted three health fairs, participated in 10 tabling opportunities, attended several national confer-ences, presented at several events and schools, utilized over 200 volunteers, committed over 500 people to make a “First Step” towards healthier and eco-conscious lifestyles, distributed thousands of items to help them on this journey, and have completed 23 green consulta-tions. We have partnered with the Sankofa Marketplace in the Lower 9th Ward to collect glass at their monthly events, and have collected over 400 bottles since February 2009. In addition, we have partnered with iCCESSSORIZE who is designing an eco-jewelry line using the glass collected from Consciously Rebuilding.

Our future is bright and includes the launch of a recycled glass jewelry line at the Essence Festival, and the launch of our local and national 25,000 “First Step” Campaign. Katrina was one man’s disaster and my opportunity. If Katrina hadn’t happened, I would not be the entrepre-neur that I am today, and I would not have touched the thousands who I have shared my journey and vision with. I am genuinely happy with my decision to endure the rocky-road of the past and the mysterious road of the future. by Yasmin Bowers

I came because I fell in love with New Orleans long ago on a road trip from California. It was to be a month-long cross-country junket, but my friend landed summer-shortening employment, leaving us only four days. We came up with a more realistic plan involving far less mileage, but we somehow forgot to take a left turn at El Paso and ended up at Muddy Waters, the Maple Leaf, and Miss Mae’s, and then the sun came up so we grabbed showers at the Holiday Inn and hightailed it back home. Dividing total distance by time elapsed, I calculated that over the four-day period we maintained an average speed of 45 mph, including time spent in bars, showers, eating and sleeping. For the next 15 years, just knowing New Orleans was out there, and that I could get there any time I really wanted to, was mental shorthand for a kind of freedom for which I have never found another expression.And then, all of a sudden, New Orleans almost wasn’t out there anymore. The images that filtered in to my faraway world made me sick to my stomach, threatened my bearings, cut me loose from my daily life in some way.I came because I could, and because I had a reasonable chance of being helpful. Here was I, a finish carpenter, single, and largely unencumbered. I came out, as have so many, on a one-week volunteer stint, but before my return flight landed, I had decided to quit my job, move out of my apartment, and spend a bit of quality time in South Louisiana on my way to whatever came next. A friend hosted a benefit concert for me, and people wrote checks, heartbreakingly generous checks from unwealthy people who would have come themselves if they could and were glad to find another way to help. I figured the donations would get me through a good four or five months. Which turned into a year, and then three, of building new houses and rebuilding old ones.

It was my love for this

Photographs © 2009 Jackson Hill

by Noelle Marinello

for its people and the hope of being helpful that brought me here, but none of that is why I stayed. Though in two senses I did stay for the same reasons as I came: because I could, and because I fell in love. Because while I was in the area I was determined to play some music, because on my third week here I played an open mic in an Uptown coffee house where I met a guy, because I married him two years later, became stepmom to his daughter, and we bought a house a few blocks from the Maple Leaf — because it turned out I had a real life here that

city and the hurt in my heart

I arrived in New Orleans on Saturday, May 6th, 2006, to a city eerily deserted, balmy and ravaged. I knew no one.

I came with my backpack, a bundle of hopeful good intentions and the desire to understand how our government could allow the breaching of the levees and the disastrous aftermath of Hurricane Katrina to happen. I came as a volunteer to teach art in an after-school program run by Common Ground, a relief group driven by the philosophy of mutual aid: “Solidarity Not Charity.” My eight-week commitment became four challenging months of living in

makeshift volunteer housing at the still unopened St. Mary’s of the Angels Elementary School in the 9th Ward — an experiment in anarchist communal living. While much good work came out of Common Ground, namely the health clinic and house-gutting program, I quickly became disillusioned as I realized that it was not as community-driven as it touted itself to be. Volunteers were mostly unscreened college students who made promises to the community that they could not keep and started projects that were not completed. They did, however, pad their resumés with priceless experience.

Who was benefiting from this relationship? Even after leaving Common Ground, I questioned

whether I should stay in the city. Was I part of the problem or the solution? I sought out long-standing artists

and community leaders for advice and was convinced that my skills could be utilized. This led me to work as a theater

educator and director of Junebug Productions, a social justice theater company that addresses issues of race and class. Now, years

later, I continue teaching community-based theater and encourage people to create art that addresses issues in their communities.

by kiyoko mccrae

Photographs © 2009 Tom Varisco

Art can seem meaningless and trite in the aftermath of a disaster. Yet, all around me I witnessed the healing power of art in

validating and making sense of individual and communal experiences, aspirations, values and hopes. New Orleans has transformed

me as an artist and the way in which I view art. I continue to be inspired by its people, celebrating life and challenging systems

of oppression through rich artistic and cultural traditions. Street musicians, Mardi Gras Indians, and second line culture have led

me to reconnect with my passion for music and my desire to direct community-based theater. New Orleans has taught me that

the value of art is not found in fame, fortune or prestige or even the art itself. Art is important only because it is a reflection and

celebration of life. Life is what makes art precious.

I came as a volunteer to teach art in an after-school program run by Common Ground.

Members of New Orleans Young Urban Rebuilding Professionals Initiative

Gill Benedek

Ashton Harper

Alexis Leventhal

Joel Ross

Nathan Rothstein

Hampton Barclay

I arrived in New Orleans in the summer of 2006, inspired by two questions I had asked in Mississippi several months earlier. “Did you get money from insurance companies? Did you get money from FEMA.” Both answers introduced me to our government’s failures to regulate and deliver what they had promised. It was unacceptable.

When I decided to leave Massachusetts and move to New Orleans, I did not know anyone, but dove into the rebuilding process as an Americorps volunteer. Just days into my term, I was gutting houses, acting as a case manager, and helping to plan the future of New Orleans neighborhoods. When I looked around, many of the people in the room doing this recovery work, were young people. They were either from New Orleans, and came back to help their families, or they were new to the city, and were angered by what they saw during the days after Katrina. Many of these short term volunteers and workers needed a way to connect with each other to find more permanent job opportunities. There was a potential that New Orleans would become their domestic Peace Corps stint. A few of us realized this problem. In the spring of 2007, a group of young people started meeting around my dining room table trying to figure out the right way to connect, retain and attract young people to New Orleans. Every time someone got murdered, the whole country knew about it. Nobody was talking about the talented young people in the city. As the idea developed, we also realized the unique opportunity we had to unite people across race and class backgrounds. Everyone needed to work and everyone in New Orleans believed in the city. In the summer of 2007, we created the New Orleans Young Urban Rebuilding Professionals (YURP) Initiative, with a mission to connect, retain, and attract young professionals from diverse backgrounds for a sustainable New Orleans. The goal was to create a network that would exchange job information and make it accessible to everyone, not just those who went to the “right” high school or live in the “right” neighborhood.

Two years later, we have more than 3400 members who have signed up on our social networking website, and hundreds of others who have attended our events. This winter, I transitioned out of my Executive Director role into the world of politics, as the Political Director for James Perry, but our network and organization continues to thrive.

by nathan rothstein

Photographs © 2009 Jackson Hill

Desire is the registered trade name of Desire, L.L.C.© 2009 Desire, L.L.C. 608 Baronne StreetNew Orleans, LA 70113 e-mail: [email protected]

Publisher: Tom VariscoArt Direction, Design: Tom Varisco DesignsDesign, Production: Gregory GoodPrinting: Garrity PrintingPaper Stock: Accent OpaqueType Face: Trade GothicAll photography © 2009 Jackson Hill & Tom Varisco

Photograph © 2009 Tom Varisco

Desire #28 Summer 2009

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