august 29: a day (un)like any other day

I wondered what today would be like. There were not as many memorial and commemorative ceremonies planned today as there were on this date a year ago. I didn’t know how it would be for the people in my life who are native new orleanians, people who waded through flood waters and were displaced thousands of miles from home. How does one commemorate an event whose effects are still being felt, an event that, in essence, has not really yet ended?

As I was in the car with patricia, with whom I have been working in the CURE office for the past several months, I asked her if she had any plans to commemorate Katrina. No, she said, she doesn’t want to give any more time or energy to thinking about it. And I realized in that moment that not a single day goes by here where the storm and its effects are not remembered, blamed, looked to as an explanation for current conditions. There is no one here whose life was not effected by the storm. Even I, who moved here just after the 1-year anniversary of Katrina, can see the noticeable results in my life of a storm that hit a city I did not yet know.

So, today proceeded like a typical day. We had a birthday party for stacy, who is indicative of another way my life has changed in the past two years since Katrina. It was Katrina and her damages that brought me down here, yet it’s the relationships and community that have developed around me that kept me here. Stacy is a part of that. Stacy’s birthday originated before Katrina was a curse word in these parts and in true new Orleans fashion, celebrations for stacy will continue long after Katrina’s sting has eased. I went to a hardware store and overheard a man talking about several other hurricanes he had lived through in new Orleans. Not something unusual for any day in this below-sea-level city.

Later I drove around taking pictures of houses to present the juxtaposition of aug 29 2005 to aug 29 2007. it would probably be more accurate to document September 15 2005 versus September 15 2007, since it took that long for most of the water to be pumped out of the houses it had long destroyed by then. As I snapped some photos to point out how little has changed, it occurred to me that that’s not the impression I want to give. Yes, new Orleans is still very very broken. Yes, there are many parts of the city that look like the storm just passed yesterday. Yes, there is still years and years of work to be done. But yes, this city is being rebuilt. Yes, families are living here; normal people are actually getting on with their lives. Next to a leaning, overgrown house is a newly painted one with a “for rent” sign. There are some blocks with maybe one house still needing to be gutted; there are other blocks with maybe one house that is habitable.

I think this city has always been one of great paradox. You can choose which parts to see and revel in and which parts to hide or deny. All I ever knew of new Orleans before I came was mardi gras and the French quarter. But there is so much more. And in relation to Katrina, we can hide in those parts of uptown and the garden district that didn’t get flooded…or we can scan more widely and accept that large parts of the city still have yet to begin healing. I think the only just view is one that encompasses both. Because, in the moments I am honest with myself, that is just like my life. I am a person of great paradox. I can choose to boast of my strengths and those parts of myself that show little damage or I can expose those parts of me that are broken and dark and in need of serious repair. To deny the full picture will only bring partial healing. But to accept and bring to light all that is destroyed is the only way to address all that hurts.

how many times can one person move away from home?

i can't quite verbalize all that occurred to me in that instant on the plane, but as we pulled into the terminal at o'hare, with the overly restless white sox fan sitting to my left, i began to think. something about coming "home" and what that means.

it occurred to me that i needed, and was perhaps watching myself prepare, to let go of the dual-identity that i have been maintaining for so long. i felt like i was standing on the edge, in that place of wanting to hold on to both worlds as long as i can, wanting to continue to be independent and dependent at the same time. i want to have my own life but also slip back into this life too. i want the safety net of both homes, of sort of playing house wherever i lived but being able to count on the more permanent place of the home where i grew up.

these thoughts make that bon jovi country song keep playing on a loop in my head. i'm not saying you can't go back but i have been living a life in-between for quite some time. it's a strange existence where my permanent address has been a place where i haven't lived for more than a month in nearly 6 years. it's an existence where, when i leave the place i'm living i say i'm going home but when i return to that same place, i'm also going home. home is in either and both directions for me. and i realized during that landing that i really like this flexibility, of being able to go "home" anytime and slide right in. but i cant have a split focus forever. part of staying in new orleans was this idea of establishing some sort of roots. that doesn't mean i'll stay forever, but i think it requires a mental shift. maybe it's because i'm actually moving all my furniture and living some place where i have to pay all the bills. maybe it's because my mom told me the next time i move, i pay. whatever it is, there is a shift.

i'd like to think i'm ready for it, but large parts of me are scared, anxious, wanting to leave the big stuff for my parents to sort out, to do what grown-ups do. part of that too is that mostly when i look in the mirror, the word "adult" is not the first thing that comes to mind. but i learned recently that i have a terrible habit of comparing myself to others' appearances...so i must trust that what i see in my reflection is where and who i am right now, and thus where and who i should be. i'm entering a time that is distinctly different to the pattern i have grown accustomed to: go home on set breaks because someone else has decided my schedule. i don't think i'm still trapped in a college mindset but i have to admit--it's very convenient. i've been taking baby steps, well maybe toddler steps, into the "real world" since graduation 3 years ago, but this feels like the biggest step yet. it's like with every forward step i have taken, i have not committed fully to being all there. now, it's like moving more fully in a forward direction. maybe that's it--this actually feels like something different. i'm not in a program, i get to set my own rules, for goodness sake i have a real job! it's fitting then that something would feel different...and just in time.

i would like to have a book that i could turn to that would say: "this is how you should feel right now." and i would adjust accordingly. but part of this process is freeing myself from the "should's" and learning instead to trust the Spirit inside of me. learning to be present in each moment.

yet another part of it is this--my desire for home will never be entirely satisfied, no matter where i physically live. that is part of the way i was created...

They did not receive what was promised, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed it. They agreed that they were foreigners and nomads here on earth. Obviously people who say such things are looking forward to a country they can call their own. If they had longed for the country they came from, they could have gone back. But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. (Hebrews 11:13-16)

the home for which i am yearning is a far better place...

and in the meantime i will attempt to sow my heart's seeds in the context and setting of the story in which i find myself.

amen