Transience

Three months ago, I came to New Orleans as a transient relief worker. I made the decision to go to New Orleans because of a strong desire to participate, to know more and gain an understanding of the situation by being here rather than sitting at home shaking my head at media reports of philanthropic “Katrina fatigue.” I put my bike in the back of a pickup truck and rode down to New Orleans from Indiana, a state that one New Orleans native has described to me as "flyover country." Rather than insult me, this remark was intended to cement my status as an outsider: if he didn't understand the simple college town I was coming from, I certainly could not understand the complex social and political realities faced by native New Orleanians.

Through my work with the 7th Ward Family Shelter, I have been told I was crazy by a woman overwhelmed by toxic houses and crime; thanked profusely; eyed suspiciously; cried to; and made fun of for turning my own suspicious eyes on a plate of turkey necks and rice sitting in the fridge. Apparently, my native Kentucky is not as far South as I thought.

I came to New Orleans to understand the realities of the situation. I expected to find stalling, setbacks, backwards police and upside down politicians; I also expected to find straight-up good people working hard to rebuild the city. What I did not expect was the extent to which the long history of corruption, racism—and a powerful music and artistic tradition—affect the political and social culture in the city today. All I can understand now is that it will take me years to uncover all of these layers and truly participate.

Before I came to New Orleans, I ran into two articles about the rebuilding efforts that made me want to come here. One was a New York Times op-ed by Walter Isaacson in which it was reported that President Bush said “if he were young and looking to make his mark or some money, he would move to New Orleans.” The other article was by Naomi Klein in The Nation, in which she asserted “evacuees must be at the center of all decision-making.” Bush’s statement asserts the power of the market; Klein’s the power of being a native, a community member. I did not come to New Orleans to exploit the booming housing market; I came here to work with people who made the difficult and brave decision to return home to a city devoid of old friends, jobs, houses. Because it’s their home. Even if it isn’t mine.