Pilgrimage Journals: New Orleans Part 2
Tori Holt Blog Entry #1 06-28-07
This trip so far has been wonderfully eye opening. Everywhere I’m taking on new perspectives and realizations. I’m slowly overcoming my fear of flying, seeing new places I’ve never been, and getting to spend time with new faces. So far every one of my fellow pilgrims has surprised me in some way with their empathy, openness, and willingness to talk about where they’re from and what they are experiencing.
Today we worked with a school that has been formed to offer a safe space for children of the surrounding neighborhood to come and play and use the elements of education which are non academic (Art, Music, Sports, and Theatre) to express themselves. It was an interesting place, ironically set next door to the school deemed one of the “worst” schools in the nation. Ally and I were interested to know quite what qualifies the “worst”. Is it security? Is it the environment? Is it the academics? Is it the teacher to student ratio, which we heard was as high as 80 students to 1 teacher at one time? I found it hard to understand or fathom the real experience of attending such a school, of living in such a neighborhood.
I often find it hard to fathom any situation which calls for empathy for an intense emotional impact on human experience. I strive to be compassionate, but there are some situations which are simply impossible to fully understand. I find it hard to imagine a time when New Orleans could be underwater. I find the city thus far enchanting, and I’ve already used so much space on my camera to capture the beautiful architecture and roadways—we aren’t even to France yet!
At the end of the day, we drove through the Lower 9th Ward, right where the levees broke, and it was a completely out of body experience. I couldn’t feel anything at first. I wanted so badly to understand—to let the horrible truth wash over me…but it just wouldn’t hit me. I watched house after house pass our bus, and slowly became familiar with the X’s (keeping track of flood water, date, and bodies found), the drooping roofs, and the broken windows. I found myself searching every house for these signs, again and again, over and over. I wanted to see them, wanted to photograph them. It was aesthetically beautiful in a very strange way, but by the time we reached the Lower 9th Ward, I felt disgusting taking photos. I didn’t want to look at the destruction, I didn’t want to gawk from inside my air conditioned bus and the safety of returning home. I could not fathom the events of two years prior.
We pulled up to an intersection, and an overturned bus was lying by the side of the road. I don’t know what came over me, but I began to cry and looked away. There were empty lots on our right, and I stared out across them, and couldn’t bring myself to look at the houses on the left for about 3 blocks. When the emotion had passed I felt odd. I realized that to truly understand something, you have to let go of trying to, and instead just let yourself feel it, however that may manifest itself. Everyone reacts differently to phenomena. After I saw the bus, something clicked and I realized the sheer horror of the situation. Reality hits you when you least expect it, and you really can’t control how you will react.
My qualms were soothed when I remembered the children. The school kids are simply inspiring. After struggling to comprehend really being here in New Orleans, I thought I would also have trouble connecting with them. I felt like I would have no way to relate… but this is no way to be. We’re here to help, and we are all fundamentally linked despite our vastly different lives. The kids and a few of our group’s volunteers ended up sitting around a table playing a question game. Each kid from NO was so eager to learn about our lives, and the volunteers were equally interested in the kids’ stories. We made a great connection, and it was electrifying. I left feeling reassured, loved, and embraced by another community.
Even after the most violent storms, the sky calms and a rainbow forms. Will the help of these schools, the children can grow up to be valuable members of their communities, and will lead the way for regrowth and regeneration, which is so much what this city needs. I thank God for these organizations and schools, and for their inspiring work with the children of New Orleans.
