The trees in New Orleans are thick and sturdy, branches stretching more horizontally than towards the sky. Their roots do not abide by the constraints of either the ground or the sidewalk that try to tame them into a submissive subterranean life. The trees are here to stay. I would like to think this is an analogy for the people of this unique city, but things do not line up quite so neatly. The people here are, on the whole, remarkably kind, particularly in the face of the sudden and overwhelming upheaval of their home. But life is very hard and depressed for them, and not everyone is in a position to deal with that in a sympathetic manner. With so much of the city’s structure and population still gone, I would love to have seen how it was before Katrina. I’ve spent most of the last week in Central City and the French Quarter, which is nowhere near normal working condition, however this evening we drove through the Lower Ninth, just South of the levee… and it’s not just not okay, it’s in utter, uninhabitable desolation for blocks and blocks. House after house has either been demolished and is now only a plot of dead grass, or is in near irreparable condition. Can any of you imagine just having your entire home completely wiped out? There is damage and then there is annhilation. Seeing that made me want to do absolutely anything to help these people.

On Saturday I had the privilege to meet one of the inspiring New Orleanians. Sue’s house had been half gutted to take care of the damage from the six inches of flooding she had and we were there to help her finish up gutting and de-mold. She had snuck back into the city from Texas 3 1/2 weeks after the hurricane and her two 20-something sons with autism and schizophrenia, respectively, moved back in with her, meaning there are 3 of them and a lot of stuff sharing the absolutely tiny government-provided trailer. And not only does she have to deal with her house and sons, but she has to take care of her mother’s things because her mother simply left the city after her house was flooded terribly. We ended up spending half the day helping her move things out of her house and organizing them in her storage unit, which wasn’t exactly what we were there for, but it was what she needed and we were glad to be helpful (my experience moving nearly every year of my life and having a lot of things in storage was particularly useful). She was so grateful for our help and said that all she wants is for us to let everyone know when we leave that New Orleans is NOT okay. It will take at least another 5-7 years to rebuild it and they cannot do it alone. I think everyone is aware that it will never be quite the same, but it is certainly worth working for.

Yes, it wasn’t originally the best idea to build a city below sea level, but centuries later these are people’s homes, communities, and lives - who is anyone else to say they shouldn’t rebuild that? And, more pertinently, who are we as Americans and as humans to not help them to the greatest extent of our abilities? Sure, we may not make a huge impact on the community in the two weeks the 40-something of us are here, but to those families who can start rebuilding their houses and their lives? We have been SO IMPORTANT. So, I was pretty down after driving through the Lower Ninth, and then we went to the Hands On community meeting and remembered that with all these fantastic volunteers who are here and motivated and skilled, we are, indeed, making a difference. This is shown in days like Friday when, on our fourth day of gutting that huge house, we stayed two extra hours - until it was dark - to get it totally finished and ready for de-molding. We may have been exhausted and subsequently dragged quite a bit the following day, but it was so satisfying, especially for the clapping that greeted our very dirty entrance to the Hands On meeting. I’m so grateful to be here.