Hurricane Katrina's Emotional Hangover

Great tragedies like Hurricane Katrina always trigger emotional chain reactions. They are the unmeasurable consequences of the storm: broken hearts, ruined health, seething anger.

For the Sanders family, which found its way from the flooded Gentilly neighborhood of New Orleans to a vast apartment complex in Houston, there are an abundance of emotional chain reactions. Harry Sanders, 16, has transferred from the "zoo" of JFK High in New Orleans to a much better private school in Houston, where he is making better grades and is, unexpectedly, happier. His sister, Ashley, 20, was pregnant when the hurricane hit and experienced skyrocketing blood pressure with the stress of escaping the flooded city. Because of this, she gave birth prematurely to a little girl weighing only 3 pounds, 15 ounces. The infant had to stay in the hospital for five days, causing more currents of worry to spread through the family.

Sedra Sanders, the matriarch of the family, has reacted with anger that eventually has turned into political activism. The family spent days stuck on a balcony, running out of water and hope of rescue. Then, when they were finally rescued, they spent a couple more days camped out on a bridge. There, a law enforcement officer shocked Harry with an electric taser during an altercation that started when he demanded a bottle of water for Ashley.

"I truly believe it was a racial thing that happened to us," Sanders says now, as she calmly sips chicory-flavored coffee. She is not alone in her thinking. Many survivors are even convinced that the disastrous response to Katrina was premeditated. It is this basic belief spun off in many directions that has propelled Sanders to get involved in the politics of the rebuilding process.

Sanders has recruited several family members to accompany her to a Washington, D.C., rally this week organized by the Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now (ACORN). At least 400 people are expected to turn out at the Feb. 8 and 9 demonstrations, demanding that their voices be heard during the rebuilding process. Specifically, they will voice their objections to the rebuilding plan proposed by the city's Bring New Orleans Back (BNOB) Commission. Sanders, and ACORN, are part of a significant opposition to this plan, which has been labeled as discriminatory.

When the neighborhood rebuilding plan was introduced at a public meeting last month, many New Orleans residents reacted to it with angry statements reminiscent of the infamous revolutionary call "Give me liberty or give me death!" At the mention of eminent domain, a few New Orleanians said they would rather die on their land than be bullied into selling or abandoning their property. One resident said the government would only be able to take her property "over my dead body." Others warned that, "If you come to take our property, you better come ready!"

While debates about how to rebuild after a natural disaster are nothing new, the level of volatile, emotional dissent surrounding New Orleans' reconstruction is new. And the challenges are profound, pitting ordinary New Orleans residents against the officials who govern them in a racially charged environment. Much of the opposition to the rebuilding is propelled by emotional class and race tensions between black residents and a government they fear will abandon them a second time.

Orderly and organized

On the surface, the idea behind the proposed plan is to ensure that residents don't rebuild in areas likely to flood again and to consolidate the rebuilding to efficiently provide city services. The plan presents an orderly, organized and rational approach to rebuilding. The problem is that it ignores something terribly important: the emotional hangover from the hurricane. Phrases like "eminent domain" and "building moratorium" struck fear among the displaced, traumatized, distrustful and angry New Orleanians who are anxious to come back home. All other aspects of the plan -- such as the proposed resident-centered planning teams, parks and community centers -- have melted away in a hot, emotional debate about control, class, race and discrimination.