Features
NOLA Blogging
NOLA Blogging
Editor’s Note: What follows are excerpts from former Richmond resident
and OITM contributor Walter Zeichner’s blog. He has been volunteering
as a mental health counselor at a clinic in the Algiers neighborhood of
New Orleans 6 weeks after Hurricane Katrina.
Monday 3
October 2005, 8:19 PM
I'm at the Common Ground Clinic in
Algiers. I flew in with a friend this afternoon, was met at the airport
with more friends in their veggie oil bus.
I've been met with such enthusiasm.
There is a lot of gladness to have mental health people show up.
I am just arriving, but from
what I see so far, the folks at the clinic are working their asses off.
Some folks have been here for weeks, others for days. The immediate sense
is one of overwhelm.
It looks like I'll be helping to set
up a Recovery Center in the lower 9 district, and then training local
community folks in leading effective peer support groups, and helping
a 12-step group to form.
Today I received inoculations for Hep A
and Tetanus.
P.S. It's just past midnight, I just witnessed the arrest of a young African
American man on a bicycle outside the clinic by at least 6 white police
officers, most not wearing badges but shirts identifying them as NY State
Police. There was no violence. The police were questioning the young man
with no attorney present. No weapons were drawn.
Wednesday 5 October 2005, 3:33 AM
I wanted to let you all know a bit
firsthand what's happening here in Algiers, New Orleans. I got here on
Monday afternoon, and spent Tuesday at the Common Ground Collective working
with some of the volunteers there. The usual cohort of inspired, disenfranchised,
enthused activist youth are working their butts off tarping roofs, gathering
and distributing supplies (food, cleaning stuff, clothes, linens, etc.)
along with the usual cohort of middle-aged activists. It's a beautiful
example of human cooperation in a situation that is surreal. Military
helicopters fly overhead with their doors open, a soldier with a machine
gun visible from the ground. Hummers drive around with an automatic weapon-toting
soldier on the roof. Big white SUVs and pickup trucks drive around with
various "private contractors."
Houses in flood-affected areas
are now being marked with a green or a red dot indicating whether or not
it has been condemned, so people are returning to their houses to find
that they are not allowed in. How these dots are applied, who decided
which houses go and which stay, is not clear to me. It is clear, however,
that this is commonly regarded as part of the land grab. Casinos, formerly
allowed only on boats in the river, have hurriedly been given permission
by the Louisiana legislature to exist on land, and at least one gated
community nearby is the expected home to one of these "new"
casinos.
Curfew is in effect, dusk to dawn,
but white people tend to experience a less hostile response to curfew
violation. The New Orleans police, notorious for brutality, have said
within my hearing that they can "demand to see ID for no reason at
all" and they expect compliance.
Sitting on the levy this evening,
looking at the lit city towers across the river with the poverty and disarray
of Algiers behind me, the disparity that is New Orleans shines as brightly
as the city lights.
Anyone interested in helping can visit
www.commongroundrelief.org
and even though the mainstream media may not be talking it up, the need
continues to be great.
I have rarely been as acutely aware
of the privilege of my "white" skin, or the economic and educational
advantages it has brought me.
Anyone who wants an experience of
community, of contributing and seeing the direct effect of their participation,
or who would like to show their kids some amazing resilience in the face
of oppression, come on down to New Orleans and stand with the people here
who fear that their disenfranchisement is about to take a profound turn
for the worse.
Wednesday
5 October 2005, 10:47 PM
I'd like to recount one story from
my day.
I drove a 58 yr old woman to
the FEMA help center around 3 PM. She'd returned from Houston where she'd
received one check from FEMA, but another had been sent which she had
not received and she wanted to find out where it was.
The FEMA center was in a school gym.
We went in, she was seen by the intake worker immediately, a firefighter
from New Mexico. He gave her a case number or some such and sent her to
speak with someone else. They gave her a FEMA phone number to call and
directed her to the phone bank. She then asked me to help her since she
was finding the recorded message on the phone to be confusing. I called
the number, listened to the message, held for assistance, and spoke with
a woman who told me that this woman needed to call the Help Line by using
prompt 3 after the recorded message, this was the Intake Line. I told
her that there was no prompt 3 in the message and she told me that must
be because the Help Line was too backed up. The woman would have to call
back after 10 PM. I asked if we could use one of the computers to find
the information online and was told that I could try but it probably wouldn't
work. So I used one of the computers there and went to the FEMA site and
found that we would not be able to get any information from the website.
At this point a FEMA employee, a woman in her 50's, came over to us and
said to me, "You can't help this person. We don't accept volunteers."
I told her that I was there helping my friend and she told me "I
was told that you are helping people and you can't do that." I assured
her that I was only helping this one person and she reluctantly agreed
that was OK.
"You're not allowed to
help people."
What's wrong with this picture?
Thursday 6 October 2005, 12:12 AM
It's been a long busy day; hot, humid,
and filled with people and their stories. I spent the day mostly at the
clinic in the entryway talking with people, and listening. I encountered
hope, despair, huge-heartedness, fractured spirits. I heard tales of absolute
horror and tales of people discovering compassion and kindness...
I find myself absorbing more of this than
is good for me. I have a headache, my startle response is slightly enhanced,
and can just tell I'm taking in stuff that is toxic. However, in this
environment and this situation, I think I’m actually doing a good
job of not being way too porous psychically. In other words I could be
really way fucked up, and I'm not...
There are still soldiers in the street
with their AK47s. I've spoken to a few, mostly nice young men who probably
joined the service out of a sense that it would be a good thing to do.
I heard about soldiers who drove past the Food Not Bombs people (they
are mostly young people who come to actions and disasters and feed people)
and pointing their machine guns at these kids, just for the heck of it...
I also see the potential for great
good to come of all this. Some black and white people here are really
loving being with how much we are the same, how much we need each other,
how wholeness can only exist for some of us if it exists for all of us.
We can really help make a better world for
the children (and I mean all the children, not just the white ones or
the moneyed ones or whatever) if we are willing to share what we have,
live lives of service, and be peacemakers...
We need to give give give not 'til it hurts
but 'til it makes us whole.
Thursday 6 October 2005, 7:05 PM
Each day here is a lifetime, and they are
each very different. Last night's blog entry, early this morning really,
was coming from a place of being overfull from the intensity of the day.
Today was a lot mellower, and I am feeling much less stressed...
People are returning to the city, many to
find that they have lost everything, and I mean every thing. These tend
to be older folks since that's who has a house, so the losses are so wrenching.
We saw more children in the clinic today.
I kept on handing out bottles of water with vitamin fizzy stuff in it
to the kids especially, but also to parents.
The shock, the love, the camaraderie here
at the clinic, the support of the pagan cluster, are all feeding me.
I used to "own" a home and land,
run a private practice, have tons of stuff, debt up the wazoo, "security"
etc. and it didn't bring me the sense of overall congruity and joy that
this life is...
That's it for now... peace out.
Saturday 8 October 2005, 6:38 PM
Today I went to the 7th Ward which is on
the other side of the river where destruction was greatest. Ward 9 was
the worst, I haven't been there yet. Today I helped staff a clinic under
a highway overpass. The folks were receiving tetanus and hep A shots,
food, and counseling from yours truly. We were seeing people who had either
just gotten back to New Orleans and were on their way to see their house
for the first time, or had just seen it. Most people had lost everything.
We saw a number of families. I must have spoken with at least 25 or 30
people.
I also finally met Mama Di, one of the pillars
of the community. She's a Rasta woman who, it turns out, knew my mother
years ago during the times when the [Black] Panthers lived in our house
in Connecticut. She told me that she heard the three levees being blown
up after Katrina, and that she knew for a fact that the levy was blown
in 1965. So, I hear a lot of stuff, but firsthand knowledge is pretty
conclusive. We discussed the idea of me training community folks to lead
peer support groups, and that this would begin to be feasible in a few
weeks.
I am in the process of arranging to
stay here longer than previously planned. I'm not sure how that'll work
yet but I am working on it.
I listen all day to amazing stories
and I try to remember them to share here, but there are so many and it's
all so intense that I forget. Forgetting is healthy, too, because I can't
carry all that around with me.
Right now I feel as if I'd had 10
cups of coffee. I haven't. Most of the clinic staff has gone to play soccer
with the folks from the collective house on Atlantic Ave., which will
afford me time for a shower and time to do this writing.
Emotionally this is one of the most
intense and fulfilling experiences I've ever had. I feel a lot, generally,
but in this situation I am having to be pretty contained, which is good.
I am not being too porous... I ground and release. I cry. I rant to the
folks who are my support. I continue to be amazed at how clear it is that
the people here have been literally sold down the river by the government.
Really, there should be revolution in the streets of the US...
Sunday 9 October 2005, 10:50 PM
Another day in Algiers, New Orleans.
Today the clinic hosted a block party with food, clothes to give away,
art stuff, barbecue, and socializing. People hanging out in this city
which some say is dead and others say is coming back to life as the people
return.
I counseled a few people, and then
took the afternoon to enjoy the party, which did me a world of good. I
feel about 1/3 full instead of 4/3 full now at the end of the day as I
prepare for sleep. This is my third night sleeping in my tent in the back
yard of a neighbor. I had been sleeping in the clinic, in the room where
all the treatment happened; steeping in the energy of the clinic. I feel
much better sleeping out here.
George W. Bush, the rotten fuck, will be
in New Orleans tomorrow, continuing to support the removal of the poor
(mostly black) folks so Donald Trump can build his new casino. Trump is
also in town, I have heard. It's obscene... Think about it. One of the
first things lawmakers in this state did was to change the law in favor
of a rich casino owner. This, in the face of the destruction of people's
lives, is just more evidence of the rotten core of the politicians, developers,
and money worshippers...
I was talkiing with some other volunteers
here tonight about what we'd like to have for dinner, a wonderful complete
meal, and it hit me how privileged I am. I get to eat what I want if I
go out and get it. My money and my white skin grant me access to pretty
much anything. I was talking with a man from Texas who is here volunteering,
a black man. I shared about the stories I was hearing and how awful that
is. He, rightly so, said "Yeah well that's hard for you but every
time I go into a store I am followed around. I wear this brown suit (his
skin) for life." I asked him how he deals with the pressure and he
just laughed. High blood pressure is one of the major "illnesses"
that black people suffer from. Duh! Talk about pressure!
I am aware that my blog entries are
increasingly angry. I think my anger is an appropriate response to a completely
inhuman situation. Anyone who isn't angry is asleep...
Monday 17 October 2005, 7:14 PM
[an email, not a blog entry]
Greetings from Algiers. I'm still at the
clinic, heading back to California tomorrow, then back here in a few weeks
to stay for a while.
There is an opportunity here to create a community integrative health
project, which is very exciting!
I'm hoping to manifest some regular donors
so the project can be sustained. We are covered under a 501(c)3 so donations
are tax deductible through Global Exchange www.globalexchange.org
Would you be interested in becoming a donor
on a monthly basis? Any amounts of money would be put to good use. If
you're interested, drop me a line and/or send donations to
Common Ground Clinic, PO Box 3216, Gretna, LA 70034
This email is going to a list of about
50 folks. If half of those people donated $25 a month that'd be $625 a
month. This would mean so much to the people in this community.
Every night I see white cops stopping black
people in their cars or on the street. When I asked two men my age how
many times in their lives they'd been stopped they both just laughed.
One guy told me he'd been stopped 12 times in the month before Katrina
hit, and only 6 times since; an improvement!
Most of the people I have been meeting have
never had health insurance, so this clinic is providing care that is much
needed. Health issues include diabetes, high blood pressure, heart conditions,
asthma, psychological issues, HIV, and much more. Anything you can give
would translate directly to an improvement in quality of life for thousands
of people.
Walter I. Zeichner is a witch, permaculturist, and activist.
You can read his blog at www.walterzeichner.com/Blog/index.html