at home in broadmoor

first, it started with the trucks. these big, huge trucks parked right in front of my house. i knew this was a bad sign. you see, i've seen the trucks before...just not in front of my house. i see the trucks all the time, in fact, since living in new orleans right now includes demolition and construction as facts of life. but there they were, right in front of our house. now logic told me that they would be focused on the house next door to mine, which has not yet been gutted. on my block, there are about seven or eight houses. i think there are four on my side of the street. besides our house and the house to the right (occupied by construction workers) the other houses are all empty. directly across from us is a house with a FEMA trailer directly in front. it took me a while to realize but there is no one living in that trailer, or that house. next to that house is a double shotgun that appears to have been gutted, but no one living inside. two houses down from us, we saw some people about a month ago loading up a storage container in front of the house. oooh, action! we tried to meet these people but they were very intent on continuing the process. the house immediately to our left was never gutted. i could stand on our back porch and see the house's back door open with things sort of tumbled out (a stove, clothes, a big wicker basket, etc). we didnt know what was happening with the house. and then, there were the trucks.

i wanted to ask the demolition-ish looking men which house was gonna go, but i saw another guy come over and so i asked him. he confirmed my suspicions, that it would indeed be the house to our left. the owner of the house has a medical condition and she was too concerned about the mold to just go through and gut it. so she's having it torn down and will re-build. she's living now in kenner (a suburb about 10 miles west of here) and i guess she plans to come back.

so just like that, emily and i watched the house come down. it shook our house and prevented me from taking a nap. it's taking up most of the block with the trucks and crane/claw machine. and where there was once a house, there's a house no more. the years and sweat and money and love that went into turning that house into a home--gone. crazy to think about. i ask that you would pray with me for a greater sense of thankfulness for the homes which i have been blessed to be a part of and also for the homeowners in this city who have had to go through the emotionally draining experience of having to re-start a life.

for more information on my neighborhood, check out this link.
this experience is different because the neighborhood where i work is not the neighborhood where i live. the two neighborhoods are facing some of the same issues since all of new orleans is in storm-recovery mode. but there are some stark differences. more than 60% of the pre-Katrina population of broadmoor is back, while less than 1% of the people from the Desire area are living there now. in my section of the neighborhood, there are mostly construction workers living around us. but the dynamics change from block to block. as one family comes back and rebuilds, it motivates their friends and neighbors to come back and do the same. there are some blocks that look completely rebuilt and then there are some like mine, half abandoned, buildings being torn down. please pray with me that i would learn what it looks like to love my neighbors when they are scattered all over the place.

Broadmoor in the news!

this is an article about Broadmoor, the neighborhood where I live, which had its annual fall fest this past weekend. check it ou!

One Month Down in the Big Easy

Periodical update #1

Before I came here, the buzzword for preparation was FLEXIBILITY. We heard it in june when we came down for a round of interviews in Mississippi and we heard it many times between then and the beginning of September, when we arrived for training. And I have found that FLEXIBILITY really is critical to maintaining balance and sanity down in the gulf coast these days. It manifests itself in a variety of ways and the effects of the storm show up differently each day. We see it when we drive down the major road near our house and see what used to be a taco bell now turned into a new Orleans seafood fast-food restaurant. We pass by many other fast-food places whose signs either seem trapped in time because of no change since the storm or advertise wages over $10/hour just to attract enough employees to serve customers again. We see progress in construction, or deconstruction in some cases, every day. We drove up to our house last night, coming back from a 5-day training in new mexico and we noticed a new portable storage unit in front of one of our neighbor’s homes.
Life here also looks like long lines at a restaurant and at the bank because, as the hostess at Olive Garden told us, open tables don’t mean available staff. There are staffing shortages everywhere, even while the businesses have to re-open to stay afloat. The 24-hour sign on the Walgreens across the street is not lit up, and the store is only open now from 7am to 9pm. The spray painted symbols which remain on nearly on every house, from when the search teams went through to identify potential hazards or dead bodies. You can hear it in the stories…oh the stories that everyone wants to tell! Flexibility also means that wherever you’re trying to go will probably lack street signs along the way. Having a map doesn’t really help if you don’t know the name of the street you just passed.
Flexibility also shows up when I realize how our jobs will be effected. desire street ministries has been split up between three cities—the school is in baton rouge, the main administrative offices are in destin, florida, and the office where I’m working is located in what used to be a pediatric medical clinic leased by the ministry. The multi-purpose ministry building is up and running, but only the part with the basketball court and not the section with office space. Thus, the renovations of the office that I will share with my teammate Emily are just being finished…over a year since the storm. When I start to get frustrated that the documents I’m trying to fax through just wont seem to connect, a small voice reminds me to be flexible. The fax machine is on a table in a back room, and just a few days ago it was buried under a pile of ladders, tile, light bulbs and other construction materials du jour. Is it hooked up to the phone line? Is the phone line working? Do other people know the fax line number of the new office? We are in the midst of creating the illusion of a fully functioning office, but there are kinks in nearly everything we try to do. My response could be frustration but a small voice reminds me to be flexible. The storm that has thrown a wrench in all our smooth operations is the reason I am here. So I take a deep breath and commit to trying the fax machine again tomorrow.
The recent Saints football game a few Mondays ago nearly brought the city to a standstill—it was like a holiday! It represented so much for the city. It brought so much hope for the city to be revived. It was a transformation of the superdome, which had become a representation of all that was horribly wrong about the aftermath of the storm. It meant national attention for people to see how much has been done, and the fact that we still need more help! It showed that people were willing to invest in this place once again, something that is so needed for the city to become even better than it once was. The spirit of the people here is committed to rebuilding and renewing this beloved city.
My teammate Emily and I are working in the upper ninth ward, a community that used to have about 5,000 residents. Now there are probably only about 50 people living there. The neighborhood is pretty unlivable though. For the most part, it looks like the storm hit last week. There are some trailers scattered here and there, but other than that there are few signs of life. There is at least one house with the outside wall gone where you can see a couch still precariously balanced on the second floor. Many of these houses have not yet been gutted and probably will not be before the city decides to tear them down. There is a bright side in all this, though. For a community that may not have been a healthy and desirable place to live previously, this is a great opportunity. This is a fresh start to redevelop the neighborhood in a way that makes a good place to live again. The city needs its residents to come back, but in neighborhoods like this, there is not much currently to come back to. When I lived in Oakland, there were so many things that my teammates and I observed and lived through that we wished we could change. There was so much of the culture that was ingrained in the rhythm of the place. Even if we made changes in the life of an individual, which I am not discounting, there were so many structural injustices and hindrances that had, over time, developed an iron-grip on the community. But here, all that was wiped away with the storm. It is exciting to think about the changes that can be made in the structure of the community, and in the lives of its residents who will hopefully come back when they see these positive changes beginning. For now, we are still in the planning stages.
As for the house and community where I am living, things look a little different than the upper ninth ward. Broadmoor, my neighborhood, is a part of Uptown, an area just west of the Garden District and French Quarter. Desire Street Ministries is about 5 miles to the east of us, but many things make it feel much farther away. Across the street from our house, there is a FEMA trailer in a yard, though we have never seen anyone go in or out of this property. There is not much other activity on our immediate block and I’m pretty sure that the houses behind and next to us have not yet been gutted. Standing on our back porch, we can still see a pile of clothes and washing machine strewn out the back door. There is a house located kiddie-corner from us where 4 middle-aged guys are living. They are from Kentucky and they came down here earlier this year to take advantage of the construction opportunities.
The Broadmoor neighborhood association is one of the oldest in the country, as opposed to the upper ninth ward community association which CURE and Desire Street had a role in forming recently. Residents of Broadmoor mobilized very soon after the storm, especially since the city initially planned to turn the neighborhood into a giant green space. This area is one that has one of the worst flooding histories in the city, but a drainage plan that has been in effect since the 1990s has proven very effective. Except, of course, when your storm defense systems collapse and are overtopped and your whole city becomes a fishbowl. My teammates and I attended a meeting of the neighborhood association and it was highly organized and well-attended. They announced that night that an initiative to generate private funding for the rebuilding efforts would be announced the following week at the Clinton Global Initiative summit in New York City. No word yet on the pledges that were garnered. It’s exciting to be a part of such an active neighborhood, one that is mixed in nearly every way. I’m excited too to get to know more of the neighbors who are back here, trying to rebuild. As for our house, if you know anything about Mission Year, you would think this place was a palace. Now, if you have “normal” standards, then the place we’re in is just fine. But for me, I couldn’t believe it when I saw it. It’s a shotgun house so it’s long with the rooms connected to each other, and no substantial hall way. There are hardwood floors, ceiling fans, and even a DISHWASHER!! We have air conditioning and new furniture and plentiful cabinet space. It’s great.
My teammates and I are getting along well also. I’ve actually been surprised at how quickly the differences between having 4 roommates and 2 have become apparent. We’re still figuring out each others’ habits and quirks and getting into the process of digging out the deeper stuff.

I plan to be posting updates periodically, perhaps, when I am feeling extra ambitious, more often than once a month. Thank you all for your prayers and support and birthday phone calls from afar!! If you would still like to contribute financially, you can send a check to Mission Year, 2520 S. Western Avenue, #304, Chicago IL 60608 (indicate Emily Rhodes--Gulf Coast) or donate online through www.missionyear.org/donate. I love you all and look forward to sharing the ups and downs of this year with you. Please do not hesitate to post your comments or questions, or even contact me directly by email (Emily.rhodes@alumni.tufts.edu) to talk more about your life or mine!