Here’s Lookin At Hallelujah 2007 – St.Stephen’s Mission to UnBog New Orleans: The Blog
What difference does it make? We ARE the difference.Archive for July, 2007
Forgiveness
I have come to find many realizations about people and the world, but I have learned mostly about myself along with my strengths, weaknesses, qualities, skills, and where my heart is set. This whole trip I have been either hard on myself or others for not meeting the expectations I have set. This pressure I put upon myself put me in a position which I couldn’t get out of. It was like some quicksand that I could not remove myself from, and the harder I struggled, the more stuck I became. I questioned why I thought and acted the way I did. I struggled to dig out more bad things to think about myself and others only to discover that there was only one way to return to the focus of my original objective, which was to make some sort of an impact on someone else’s life without thinking much about my needs.
Today in the midst of all the frustations, craziness, and the desire to finish as much as we could, I heard some words of wisdom that may have answered a lot of my questions and made this trip even more worthwhile. The word forgiveness as said by our wise Beatrice, one of the victims of the hurricane, struck me in a way like no other. Then I realized that forgiveness is the only way for us to remove ourselves from all the bitterness, anger, and pressure. I struggled throughout the week constantly trying to look for mistakes of others and myself. I felt I had to be bitter towards others because they did not meet my expectations. For example, I was bitter towards those whom I felt were talking too much about themselves but not working hard as they described to be. Then the more bitter I became, I also became annoyed just for the sake of being angry. Being angry just became easier to deal with in times of trouble. Yet at the same time, it was evident that it was becoming more difficult for others to deal with. We have got to forgive others and realize it is not our place to change them. Most of all, if we want to succeed we must forgive ourselves. If we are able to forgive, we are able to trust.
Overall, this trip has brought me more than I could ever imagine. I feel much closer to the children of God and therefore to the Almighty himself. We don’t need to know much to make a difference. If anything, just by caring about even the smallest things could prove something to the world. Just by caring, people feel appreciation. If we just learn to love and have faith in one another, we give each other the opportunity to make a difference.
Even if this trip did not make an immediate and direct impact on the world, even if all we did was change the lives of only a few old women, the experience we have gained will eventually grow to something even greater. All of this is imprinted into our hearts and minds forever no matter how hard we try to forget about it. We might as well take this for good use. Perhaps this seems a little selfish at the moment, but, as we grow, we will be able to spread and share all that we’ve learned. As long as we grow from this experience and we allow ourselves to be successful with all the care and faith in the world, we will continually make a difference in this world. We are the now and the future. We must forgive the past and remember it for the process of growth.
Thank you to all for giving me such an opportunity. All the words in the world could not exactly explain what we have gone through, but I hope we truly do convince the world that we are capable of changing the world no matter how small or weak we may seem.
Finishing Strong: We Don’t Waste a Minute
So, today was our last day of work here in New Orleans. We’ll be heading back to Seattle tomorrow and, for me, it will be with a heavy heart. There is so much more I wish I could do here, but never the less, it has been an amazing experience. Over at Doris’ house, we finished the flooring and framing today. We had an entire wall (as in 40 feet at least) of framing left to do, but we got it done. It’s an indescribable feeling to see the look on the faces of those you help. Their houses are so far from liveable, but they’re just so greatful you’re there it’s like they wouldn’t care if all you did was clean up after the last group. You truly can’t understand the experience of New Orleans unless you come, so COME! Anyone can help out down here and if everyone would step up, people could get back on their feet. A shout out to the whole group here: thanks for opening your hearts and minds and never giving up. We’ve proved that what may seem impossible is attainable with dedication (and perspiration). I will depart with a quote of mine (God’s really; I don’t think, I just listen) that our group really seemed to respond to: New Orleans has its own spirit, a living breathing culture. Hurricane Katrina and the devistation that entailed is like a deep wound, slow to heal and extremely painful to all those involved. People have tried to slap a band-aid over this huge wound to cover up the true depth of its destruction. The media saying it’s “being dealt with”=band aid. The superdome getting rebuilt while houses remain in ruin=band aid. The big businesses rebuilding while local stores struggle to pay for the walls that were washed away=band aid. Our group came here and saw the truth. We spent the first two days peeling away the band aids and discovering the mess beneath. We took our time and worked our asses off every day to make the biggest difference we could in the little time we had here. It’s hard to leave these houses half done, but we got four houses closer to being liveable. So if we remember nothing else on this trip, I hope and pray we never forget how we peeled away the layers of lies, exposed truth, and began to help heal. Four stiches.
God Bless, Now and Always
-Alix
True Strength
Last night we had dinner with members of the Saint Pauls congregation and Father Hood. After eating authentic New Orleans cuisine, and watching a slide show, Father Hood stood up to speak. One of his comments was about how we had only spent a week down here, but many of his parishoners and the students at Saint Pauls school had been living down here and dealing with the aftermath of Katrina for almost two years. At the time, I paid little attention to the comment but after today I find myself returning to it.
Today I woke up, ate, and prepared to leave, just as I have on every other day. After going to Ms. Dorris’s house we began to work. After dealing with some complications for a section of floor, I began to take measurements for reflooring a closet. The measurements went smoothly, but the morning disappeared quickly, and soon it was time for lunch. Chris Pollack, one of our sites’ leaders decided that after lunch, we should all take a break from construction to clean up our work site. Chris Miller, the other site leader and I decided that because the closet was the last section of floor, we would wait to eat lunch until after we had finished it.
Some time later, thanks to complications with the new floor, and the awkward shape of the closet, the board was still not down. Most of the others at my site had already finished their lunches., and had begun to clean, whereas I had done neither. Chris P finally stopped me and forced me to take a break and eat. When I got out to lunch I felt sick and tired, and left much of my lunch uneaten (a rare occurence for me). After resting for a little while, I got back up and began to clear some debris, although I was still feeling off.
Michael came by to visit the site, and Chris P mentioned to him that I was looking pretty tired and that maybe I should leave and take a nap. Michael had some errands to run first, but it was decided that I would go with him after he came back. I just barely had enough time to install and add the final nails to the closet I had been working on all day, helped greatly by Chris Miller, before I was forced to leave the site early from exhaustion.
There are many reasons for my inability to stay. Pride in my ability to perservere, unrealistic expectations, a desire to be acknowledged and the hot New Orleans sun (although I here Seattle has been just as bad lately) all had a part to play. But mostly, I was completely physically and emotionally overwhelmed by everything I had seen and done.
Father Hood talked about how we would only be here for a week, well, I couldn’t even finish a full five days. How anyone could go even twice as long as we have, yet alone live here for two years is a complete mystery to me, but the strength it must take is a true testimony to the power of both the human and the holy spirit. Most of us will be returning in two days, with smiles, and unshaven hair on our faces (beard growing competition), hopefully our beaten bodies will be enough of a testiment to the hell that many of the people here must live through on a day to day basis.
Cheesy By-line:
Bennett Snyder
Friday the 13th
New Orleans
this is still there
we cannot see the people that are gone
but we can see that the people are gone
this is a picture taken in New Orleans. The visuality of the land, the interrogation of this moving picture show by giving a picture show to you, the readers, it is hard to get into (and even now harder) but so very necessary for us.
as we toured around we commented on how it felt to pass through a landscape, a foreign landscape, for some the first time to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast since Katrina, for some the 2nd, with little or no narration, a silent film progressing, parading, processing through the windows of the vans we drove in, to the music and faint chatter of talk that we managed to keep going, of how it was hard to connect. some were struck straight into lament, sorrow, grief, anger, frustration, disbelief, unbelief, and on and on into emotion, some of us documented and sent our images onward.
the vacancy of the landscape is what gets to you sometimes, the sheer lack of it all when you realize that you could have three years previous been standing in the middle of a pickup football game, or double dutch, or a block party, and on and on…
a more formal declarative post will be dedicated to the nature of this blog, the nature of this trip, the nature of this disaster, for the nature of the light that is shed on New Orleans and rom it burnishes the halls of American homes , polishes the corners of the eyes at times.
A Hard Days Work
“Today we probably created the most, not that we haven’t been working the entire time but working in general is much different from actual creation. It was a situation of sort of mixed emotions in my mind because of what we did and its conflicting effects on Miss Dorris. I personally felt really good because we were creating something new for her and we were rebuilding what the storm took away. However, when we went to show her the house at the end of the day she seemed very sad to see her old house gone. She appreciated the new house and all the work we were doing but at the same seeing all the house she previously lived in being torn out she was sad. I didn’t know whether to feel horribly guilty or horribly happy with the work we had done today, I don’t think I ever will. All the same, it feels good to help and I am glad that I am here.”
-David
another reflection on another of our three sites
hey all its Lily again.
I am working on a different site than Jeff (see post below) and so I think I might want to let you all know who else we are working with.
My site is at Miss Doris’ house. Her house is also in the seventh ward. Today we were working mostly on pulling out nails from her framing and pulling up rotted floor boards in the first room. We also were dealing with long lines at Lowes and weird guys looking for work even when we did not ask, but that is unimportant to the work at Doris’ house. What we are planning to do is put down plywood over her existing flooring, besides the flooring that we pulled up today, as subflooring. We also have to do some major framing in Doris’ house. Her walls are just vertical slats and if you push them they wiggle, so we are going to put in some framing against the slat walls so that the roof actually has something holding it up.
Doris is a great person, I had the chance to chat with her today. She is native to New Orleans and she has lived in New Orleans most of her life. She left New Orleans during the storm for Dallas and then to Michigan where her daughter lives. Her house only had flooding up to the bottom of her windows, which is still 8-ish feet up because Doris’ house is raised off the ground on bricks. What destroyed everything else was the mold which looked, as she said, like her house had been on fire. Nothing could be saved because of the mold, which is sad to me because it had the potential to be saved. There was just so much time in between the flooding and actually being able to return that the mold was able to spread.
She also gave me some insight to why many of the houses on her street were still there. She said that many of the people around her were elderly and that many just ended up staying with their relatives and/or in nursing homes or had died. There was alkso the fact that with all their houses and possessions gone, there was nothing to go back to. This makes me wonder why Doris came back because she is in the same situation. What she has is her house, which she said she wished she could show us the pictures of but they were destroyed, and the few things in her FEMA trailer. There is nothing from before and her daughter does not live in New Orleans. I just have to wonder, but I am glad to help her out.
Days of Rest
After two days of touring, we finally began work on the houses. My assignment is an old home belonging to an even older lady.
Beatrice is 101 years old, restricted to her wheelchair, and was surrounded by foot deep water in her 5 room home when she was rescued by a neighbour with a boat. She now lives in a FEMA trailer parked on her daughters’ front lawn.
Our job is to restore her house to a fraction of its original grandeur. We estimate the house to be 70 years old, and her late husbuand, a plasterer, built the house, resulting in wonderful plasterwork, amazing archwork and crown molding, all shaped by one man. In addition to these awesome features, the house boasts what used to be a gorgeous hardwood cherry floor. Dust and grime now cover literally every centimeter. The walls were knocked down, and every electrical device below four feet high is completely ruined.
The amount of work that needs to be put into this house is massive, and even after a day of labor-intensive work, we’ve hardly made a dent in what needs to be done.
Looking at this house as we were leaving, I finally understood why the famed people of New Orleans weren’t returning. An entire life; pictures, furniture, houses, completely destroyed. To say reconstruction would be difficult is a gross understatement, and does no justice. We are attempting a miniscule facet of the overall work, 4 houses out of thousands, and already, after just the first day, I am overwhelmed by all the work that needs to be done.
This 101 year old lady is now confined to a trailer in a yard, after her house, the home she built over 70 years, the house she raised every single one of her children in. The house that her loving husbuand built with his own two hands. Gone. And what she got wasn’t government-paid contracters, she didn’t get the National Guard. What this wonderful woman got was a few well meaning teenagers who are rebuilding her house with no plans, making it up as they go.
Thank You for reading, and for your continued support
Jeff Gary
Reflections on the second day :)
Hi I am Shea Harrington…one of the many (4) Harrington’s on this trip. Today we were able to visit the 9th Ward or what is left of the 9th Ward. I was able to come on this trip last year with my family, and there is still a lot of work to be done. I guess I expected it to be a lot better by now, and the city to be as populated as it was before. The 9th Ward still looks like it was hit yesterday. It looks like most of the residents are not returning to their homes. But, some are rebuilding. The survivors of Katrina and Rita that have decided to stick around and rebuild their homes are some of the strongest people I know. Today I was blest to meet one of the survivors in the 9th ward, her name is Shirley, she is 89 years old (and could probably beat me in a foot race). Shirley is one of the three people we are helping on the mission trip. She’s very sweet, very small, and very spunky…and I cannot wait to help her. She is grateful for any and all the work we are going to do for her in the up coming week. I hope she has time to tell me her story.
After being able to look at all the homes and visit with Miss. Shirley we paid our respects at one of the memorial for all the victims of the hurricane. Dad (Michael Harrington) got all the students together and we talked about what we saw. Then, Deacon Earl said a prayer in remembrance for all the people affected by the storm.
It’s strange going to the French Quarter yesterday and then the 9th ward today, and the differences there because the rich can rebuild and the poor are struggling to rebuild.
Some of the houses that we drove by today were on the same level as the rest of us I guess because they have better resources & they can get back together while others haven’t come back yet or aren’t going to come back – I wouldn’t want to come back. It would just be hard to see your house like that, to see your house your neighbors your school, everything is gone, it’s just hard to see it like that.
It just feels like it’ll never be the same.
It’s just hard to see the churches that way, you’d think that they’d be back here to help the people but they haven’t even come back at all.
They don’t even seem excited to be here, the people in the 9th Ward, maybe it’s just boredom or maybe it’s just life, there’s a lot of emptiness, like a ghost town, some people are full of hope I can see that, like Shirley we met today, but a lot of people just don’t want to talk about it.
There are no schools that have really reopened, so you don’t even see that many children.
<<Enter Danny Kim, stage right>>
Danny: It’s like you don’t want to forget but you don’t want to dwell in the past, you know?
Shea: I know but I’ve got a huge list of things to complain about if I’m out here.
I wish I wasn’t going back to school tomorrow, my time would be better spent here than in my math class.
(to The Difference) I wish you all the best of luck and I hope that you guys keep an open heart and an open mind while you’re here, and remember you’re here to serve.
(Shea might come back on Thursday if here math professor sees this. – *heart*, the Editorship)
reflections on the first day
July 8, 2007 Homecoming Center New Orleans, LA
hi everyone, its Lily
It is shocking how much has not changed since we left New Orleans last year. I know I was expecting to see a more obvious improvement to the city, especially the seventh and ninth wards but it is almost as if we never left. There are the few houses that have been fixed and painted but for the most part, it’s just destroyed and empty houses. Is this really two years later? I just cannot believe it.
On the bright side we did visit Camille’s house. Last year we worked on her house and rebuilt two walls and installed a door. Her house has come along and is much, much better. Drywall is going up in her house and you can no longer see all the way through, like we could last year. Last year, her house was only framing and outer walls, there was little else because it was all destroyed by the water, she had eight feet of standing water in her house. Now, Camille has siding and new fence in places. There still is lots of work to be done but I think we can do alot to help finish up her house, or at least make it livable this week. We have not seen all the places yet. We did stop by Miss Dot’s house and met Miss Dot, but did not go inside. We are going to tour our sites today as well as visiting the Habitat for Humanity musicians row.
I am a little disappointed in how slow things are changing here, even two years later, Katrina is still dominant in the newspaper, but I am excited to see what our group can do at our sites and what difference we can make.
En Masse, In Orange, In SeaTac
SeaTac wasn’t ready for the orange. Most people in SeaTac weren’t ready for the orange. Most people (in Orange or not, didn’t matter, they all got the same treatment) weren’t ready to be waved at by the stuffed monkey Sophie brought – but they waved back anyway. Even the cops. It was a good sign in our SeaTac departure.
Notes on the Orange – Thou Must Conformest To Thy Own Humanity, Thy Own Inner Orangeness
Perhaps because the shirts were neon orange, perhaps because most of us were given youth size Small or Medium that exposed our happy trails and triceps, perhaps self-consciousness of sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of an airport drest in bright orange about to take over a flight to New Orleans (we later agreed that New Orleans is the sore thumb nobody pays no mind to), but some people just didn’t get it that we were all going to be in on this thing together, tiny neon shirts tied into tummy knots in the vans were one thing but out in PUBLIC they didn’t want to wear the orange.
“Conform,” we told them.
“Nooooo,” they, the unoranged, remaining sarcastic.
“CONFORM!” bellowed we.
“OKAAAYYY,” caved in one quickly, donning orange.
“NO WAYYY!” Blair and Lily weren’t so easily convinced. Or quite so easily fit into youth small neon shirts as Sophie.
Physical bargaining and persuasion tactics were then enacted on both sides.
Eventually a compromise was struck – in the efforts to effect solidarity we would all wear orange while in the airports. Planed, we were free to wear anyshirt.
I ain’t much one for conformity one way or t’other – but there was some kind of feeling that describes how it felt seeing fifteen neon orange shirts board the plane, iPodded, phoned, Gameboyed and hopped up on free single-serving-pretzels and the idea of a nature-ravaged city in an era when nature is supposed to lie at our feet and manifest loafers. Everyone on the plane knew it too. It was out there. For the most part, we were nonchalant, chatting, working crossword puzzles, etc, but the mission was out in the open, a public eyesore gaining noteriety, bright & orange & hyper hyped on smiling & bubbling & monkeypuppet-waving neon kids in their too-small shirts.
“What Difference Does It Make?”
“We Are The Difference!”
