Leaving New Orleans
I just left New Orleans a couple hours ago. I traveled from the apartment I was staying in by boat to a helicopter to a refugee camp. If anyone wants to examine the attitude of federal and state officials towards the victims of hurricane Katrina, I advise you to visit one of the refugee camps.
In the refugee camp I just left, on the I-10 freeway near Causeway, thousands of people (at least 90 percent black and poor) stood and squatted in mud and trash behind metal barricades, under an unforgiving sun, with heavily armed soldiers standing guard over them. When a bus would come through, it would stop at a random spot, state police would open a gap in one of the barricades, and people would rush for the bus, with no information given about where the bus was going.
Once inside (we were told) evacuees would be told where the bus was taking them -- Baton Rouge, Houston, Arkansas, Dallas, or other locations. I was told that if you boarded a bus bound for Arkansas (for example), even people with family and a place to stay in Baton Rouge would not be allowed to get out of the bus as it passed through Baton Rouge. You had no choice but to go to the shelter in Arkansas. If you had people willing to come to New Orleans to pick you up, they could not come within 17 miles of the camp.
I traveled throughout the camp and spoke to Red Cross workers, Salvation Army workers, National Guard and state police, and although they were friendly, no one could give me any details on when buses would arrive, how many, where they would go, or any other information.
I spoke to the several teams of journalists nearby, and asked if any of them had been able to get any information from any federal or state officials on any of these questions, and all of them -- from Australian TV to local Fox affiliates -- complained of an unorganized, non-communicative mess. One cameraman told me, "As someone who's been here in this camp for two days, the only information I can give you is this: Get out by nightfall. You don't want to be here at night."
There was also no visible attempt by any of those running the camp to set up any sort of transparent and consistent system, for instance lines for the buses, ways to register contact information or find family members, special needs services for children and infirm, phone services, treatment for possible disease exposure, or even a single trash can.
To understand the dimensions of this tragedy, it's important to look at New Orleans itself.
For those who have not lived in New Orleans, you have missed an incredible, glorious, vital city, a place with a culture and energy unlike anywhere else in the world. A 70 percent African-American city with a generous, subversive and unique culture of vivid beauty. From jazz, blues and hip-hop, to secondlines, Mardi Gras Indians, parades, beads, jazz funerals, and red beans and rice on Monday nights, New Orleans is a place of art and music and dance and sexuality and liberation unlike anywhere else in the world.
It is a city of kindness and hospitality, where walking down the block can take two hours because you stop and talk to someone on every porch, and where a community pulls together when someone is in need. It is a city of extended families and social networks filling the gaps left by city, state and federal governments that have abdicated their responsibility for the public welfare. It is a city where someone you walk past on the street not only asks how you are, they wait for an answer.
It is also a city of exploitation and segregation and fear. The city of New Orleans has a population of just over 500,000 and was expecting 300 murders this year, most of them centered in just a few -- overwhelmingly black -- neighborhoods. Police have been quoted as saying that they don't need to search out the perpetrators, because usually a few days after a shooting, the attacker is shot in revenge.
There is an atmosphere of intense hostility and distrust between much of Black New Orleans and the New Orleans Police Department. In recent months, officers have been accused of everything from drug running to corruption to theft.
In separate incidents, two New Orleans police officers were recently charged with rape (while in uniform), and there have been several high-profile police killings of unarmed youth, including the murder of Jenard Thomas, which has inspired ongoing weekly protests for several months.
The city has a 40 percent illiteracy rate, and over 50 percent of black ninth-graders will not graduate in four years. Louisiana education spending comes to an average of $4,724 per child, and teacher salaries in the state rank 48th in the country. The equivalent of more than two classrooms of young people drop out of Louisiana schools every day and about 50,000 students are absent from school on any given day.
Far too many young black men from New Orleans end up in Angola Prison, a former slave plantation where inmates still do manual farm labor, and over 90 percent of inmates eventually die in the prison. It is a city abandoned by industry, with most remaining employment in low-paying, transient, insecure jobs in the service economy.
Race has always been the undercurrent of Louisiana politics. This disaster is one that was constructed out of racism, neglect and incompetence. Hurricane Katrina was the inevitable spark igniting the gasoline of cruelty and corruption. From the neighborhoods left most at risk, to the treatment of the refugees to the media portrayal of the victims, this disaster has been shaped by race.
Louisiana politics is famously corrupt, but with the tragedies of this week our political leaders have defined a new level of incompetence. As hurricane Katrina approached, our governor urged us to "Pray the hurricane down" to a level two. Trapped in a building two days after the hurricane, we tuned our battery-operated radio into local radio and TV stations, hoping for vital news, and were told that our governor had called for a day of prayer.
As rumors and panic began to rule, there was no source of solid, dependable information. Tuesday night, politicians and reporters said the water level would rise another 12 feet -- instead it stabilized. Rumors spread like wildfire, and the politicians and media only made it worse.
While the rich escaped New Orleans, those with nowhere to go and no way to get there were left behind. Rubbing salt to the wound, the local and national media have spent the last week demonizing those left behind. As someone that loves New Orleans and the people in it, this is the part of this tragedy that hurts me the most, and it hurts me deeply.
No sane person should classify someone who takes food from indefinitely closed stores in a desperate, starving city as a "looter," but that's just what the media did, over and over again. Sheriffs and politicians talked of having troops protect stores instead of performing rescue operations.
Images of New Orleans' hurricane-ravaged population were transformed into out-of-control black criminals. As if taking a stereo from a store that will clearly be insured against loss is a greater crime than the governmental neglect and incompetence that did billions of dollars of damage and destroyed a city.
This media focus is a tactic, and just as the focus in the 1980s on "welfare queens" and "super-predators" obscured the simultaneous and much larger crimes of the Savings and Loan scams and mass layoffs, the hyper-exploited people of New Orleans are being used as a scapegoat to cover up much larger crimes.
City, state and national politicians are the real criminals here. Since at least the mid-1800s, the danger of flooding to New Orleans has been widely known. The flood of 1927, which, like this week's events, was more about politics and racism than any kind of natural disaster, perfectly illustrated the potential disaster.
Yet government officials have consistently refused to spend the money to protect this poor, overwhelmingly black city. While FEMA and others warned of the urgent impending danger to New Orleans and put forward proposals for funding to reinforce and protect the city, the Bush administration, in every year since 2001, has cut or refused to fund New Orleans flood control and ignored scientists' warnings of more frequent hurricanes as a result of global warming. Then, as the dangers rose with the floodlines, the lack of a coordinated response vividly dramatized the callous disregard of our elected leaders.
The aftermath from the 1927 flood helped shape the elections of both a U.S. President and a governor, and ushered in the southern populist politics of Huey Long.
In the coming months, billions of dollars will likely flood into New Orleans. This money can be spent to usher in a "New Deal" for the city, with public investment, creation of stable union jobs, new schools, cultural programs and housing restoration. Or the city can be "rebuilt and revitalized" to a shell of its former self, with newer hotels, more casinos, and with chain stores and theme parks replacing the former neighborhoods, cultural centers and corner jazz clubs.
Long before Katrina, New Orleans was hit by a hurricane of poverty, racism, disinvestment, deindustrialization and corruption. Simply repairing the damage from this pre-Katrina hurricane will take billions.
Now that the money is flowing in, and the world's eyes are focused on Katrina, it is vital for progressive-minded people take this opportunity to fight for a reconstruction with justice. New Orleans is a special place, and we need to fight for its rebirth.