Katrina Remembered

Yesterday marked the eight year anniversary of the landfall of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans.

Sit with that for a minute.  

Eight years later and there are still people living displaced lives; modern American refugees in states and places that are not home.  There are also folks rebuilding, resettling, recommitting to the joy of this place.  This is the community I have been called to serve.    

While we didn't do anything to commemorate the event as a YAV house, which, quite frankly, I'm not sure how we would have done anyway, the date weighed on my heart, and I was pleased to notice this story on NPR , acknowledging the destructive anniversary and celebrating the work of Ronald Lewis, who I had the pleasure of reading about in Nine Lives: Mystery, Magic, Death, and Life in New Orleans.

Mr. Lewis' dedication to the preservation of Mardi Gras Indian culture in NOLA is inspiring, and his passion for the resuscitation and celebration of the Lower Ninth ward is contagious.  While it is easy to get flooded with grief from the images above and the memories they evoke, New Orleans is a city still living into the reality of surviving trauma, and rightfully honoring and glorifying that survival.  I take a lot of hope away from folks like Ronald Lewis. I'm hoping to meet the man and visit his House of Dance and Feathers soon.

Until then, the city breathes and weeps and sings, honoring the abundance that is having enough.  

Initial Reflections

            Well, I’ve had this blog up here for about a month now, and I’ve done nothing with it for a plethora of reasons:

  1)   I don’t know how to blog.  I am used to writing newsletters, which are long-winded, comprehensive, and usually have a theme.  From what I can infer, blogging is comprised of brevitous snippets of thought and reflection; I am not known for my brevity.

  2)  I am afraid of blogging.  Yes, I’m a “millennial”, (I think…but maybe I’m a Gen Y?  How does one discover the hip term applicable to their stage of development?) but I don’t really like technology.  The internet is wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but I like looking at people when I talk to them, and quite frankly, I’m not comfortable with the idea that anyone can check in to my ramblings in a public forum (like this one), or see pictures of my every social interaction on Facebook.  I’ve probably just watched too much Law and Order SVU or read too much Science Fiction, but the idea of everyone having access to the speed of my latest sneeze freaks me out!

  3)  Blogging seems self-indulgent.  I guess if you’re writing an advice column that's an exception, but it just feels presumptuous to assume that people are interested enough in my life to interrupt their own and read about it.  Perhaps this is some left-over self esteem issue missed by a middle school counselor, or perhaps I have the wrong idea about blogging, but blogging seems synonymous with public diary writing, and all my experiences with diaries involved tiny gold locks.  Usually, things with locks are supposed to be somehow protected from other people, no?  When one considers writing their most private thoughts in this format, #2 becomes an even greater concern. 

            So that’s my disclaimer…BUT the Presbyterian Church is encouraging me to write a blog in this, my second year of service as a Young Adult Volunteer, and I’m taking their advice.  I want to keep up with those few and varied people in the world who are interested in my life through sharing stories and thoughts, even if they aren’t as brevitous as seems appropriate, and also, I am trying something new, which is really what this year is about for me.  Becoming a YAV again seems crazier the more I think about it—I am turning 30 this year (what?!), I had a stable job with health insurance, I’m not accustomed to room mates, I’ve never even visited New Orleans—BUT I am having a year of adventure, a year of trying new things.  All last year I sat in my little house with my big dog and watched my world get smaller and smaller, and that is not how I wanted to live.  This is my year of hitting the metaphorical “reset” button on my life. 

            So anxieties, be damned!  I am excited to live with seven other women!  I am aching for Christian fellowship!  I am pumped to explore New Orleans!  I am stoked to eat boudin and live in a city and gaze lovingly at the Mighty Mississippi!  Bring it, New Orleans--with your food and your love and your hurricanes and your history!  I’m throwing caution to the wind to live joyfully again!