NOLA Blogging

Editors Note: What follows are excerpts from former Richmond resident and OITM contributor Walter Zeichner's
blog. He has been volunteering as a mental health counselor at a clinic in the Algiers neighborhood of New Orleans

6 weeks after Hurricane Katrina.

» Monday 3 October
2005, 8:19 PM

I’m at the Common Ground Clinic
in Algiers. I flew in with a friend
this afternoon, was met at the airport
with more friends in their veggie oil

. bus.

I’ve been met with such enthusiasm.

- There is a lot of gladness to have

mental health people show up.

I am just arriving, but from what I
see so far, the folks at the clinic are

. working their asses off. Some folks

have been here for weeks, others for
days. The immediate sense is one of
overwhelm.

It looks like I’ll be helping to set up
a Recovery Center in the lower 9
district, and then training local com-
munity folks in leading effective
peer support groups, and helping a
l2-step group to form.

Today I received inoculations for
Hep A and Tetanus.

P.S. It’s just past midnight, 1 just
witnessed the arrest of a young
African American man on a bicycle
outside the clinic by at least 6 white
police officers, most not wearing
badges but shifts identifying them as
NY State Police. There was no vio-
lence. The police were questioning
the young man with no attomey
present. No weapons were drawn.

» Wednesday 5 October
2005, .3:33 AM i

I wanted to let you all know a bit
firsthand what’s happening here iii
Algiers, New Orleanspl got here on
Monday afternoon‘, and spent
Tuesday at the Common Ground

' Collective working with some of the

volunteers there. The usual cohort of
inspired, disenfranchised, enthused
activist youth are working their butts
off tarping roofs, gathering and dis-
tributing supplies (food, cleaning
stuff, clothes, linens, etc.) along

with the usual cohort of middle-aged
activists. It’s a beautiful example of
human cooperation in a situation
that is surreal. Military helicopters
fly overhead with their doors open,

a soldier with a machine gun visible

from the ground. Hummers drive
around with an automatic weapon-
toting soldier on the roof. Big white
SUVs and pickup trucks drive
around with various “private con-
tractors.”

Houses in flood-affected areas are
now being marked with a green or a
red dot indicating whether or not it
has been condemned, so people are
returning to their houses to find that
they are not allowed in. How these
dots are applied, who decided which
houses go and which stay, is not
clear to me. It is clear, however, that
this is commonly regarded as part of
the land grab. Casinos, formerly
allowed only on boats in the river,

‘The collective is tag
beautiful example

of human cooperation
in asituation that

is surreal. Military hel-
icopters fly overhead
with their doors open,
a soldier with a
machinegun visible
from the ground.

have hurriedly been given permis- ‘
sion by the Louisiana legislature to
exist on land, and at least one gated
community nearby is the expected
home to one of these “new” casinos.

Curfew is in effect, dusk to dawn,
but white people tend to experience
a less hostile response to curfew
violation. The New Orleans police,
notorious for brutality, have said
within my hearing that they can
“demand to see ID for no reason at
all” and they expect compliance.

Sitting on the levy this evening,
looking at the lit city towers across
the river with the poverty and disar-
ray of Algiers behind me, the dispar-
ity that is New Orleans shines as
brightly as the city lights.

Anyone interested in helping can
visit http://www.common-
groundrelief.org and even though
the mainstream media may not be"
talking it up, the need continues to
be great.

‘I have rarely been as acutely aware

of the privilege of my “white” skin,
or the economic and educational
advantages it has brought me.

Anyone who wants an experience of
community, of contributing and see-
ing the direct effect of their partici-
pation, or who would like to show
their kids some amazing resilience
in the face of oppression, come on
down.to New Orleans and stand
with the people here who fear that

their disenfranchisement is about to
take a profound turn for the worse.

» Wednesday 5 October
2005, 10:47 PM

I’d like to recount one story from
my" day.

I drove a 58 yr old woman to the
FEMA help center around 3 PM.
She’d returned from Houston where
she’d received one check from
FEMA, but another had been sent
which she had not received and she
wanted to find out where it was.

The FEMA center was in a school
gym. We went in, she was seen by
the intake worker immediately, a
firefighter from New Mexico. He
gave her a case number or some
such and sent her to speak with
someone else. They gave her a
FEMA phone number to call and
directed her to the phone bank: She
then asked me to help her since she
was finding the recorded message
on the phone to be confusing. I
called the number. listened to the
message, held for assistance, and

spoke with a woman who told me
that this woman needed to call the
Help Line by using prompt 3 after
the recorded message, this was the
Intake Line. I told her that there was
no prompt 3 in the message and she
told me that must be because the
Help Line was too backed‘ up. The
woman would have to call back
after 10 PM. I asked if we could use
one of the computers to find the
information online and was told that
I could try but it probably wouldn’t
work. So I used one of the comput-
ers there and went to the FEMA site

’ and found that we would not be able

to get any information from the
website. At this point a FEMA
employee, a woman in her 50’s,
came over to us and said to me,
“You can’t help this person. We
don’t accept volunteers.” I told her

that I was there helping my friend
and she told me “I was told that you
are helping» people and you can’t do
that.” I assured her that.I was, only
helping this one person and she .
reluctantly agreed that was OK.

. “You’re not allowed to help people.”

What’s wrong with thisrpicture?

» Thursday 6'October
2005, 1 2:12 AM

It’s been a long busy day; hot,
humid, and filled with people and
their stories. I spent the day mostly
at the clinic in the entryway talking
with people, and listening. I encoun-
tered hope, despair, huge-hea.rted-
ness, fractured spirits. I heard tales
of absolute horror and tales of peo-
ple discovering compassion and
kindness... ..

I find myself absorbing more of this
than is good for me. I have a
headache, my startle response is
slightly enhanced, and can just tell
I’m taking in stuff that is toxic.
However, in this environment and

 

this situation, I think I’m actually
doing a good job of not being way
too porous psychically. In other
words I could be really way fucked
up, and I’m not.

There are still soldiers in the street
with their AK47s. I’ve spoken to a
few, mostly nice ‘young men who
probably joined the service out of a
sense that it would be a good thing
to do. I heard about soldiers who
drove past the Food Not Bombs

_ people (they are mostly young peo-

ple who come to actions and disas-
ters and feed people) and pointing
their machine guns at these kids,
just for the heck of it. 

I also see the potential for great good
to come of all this. Some black and
white people here are really loving

being with how much we are the ,
same, how much we need each other,
how wholeness can only exist for
some of us if it exists for all of us.

We can really help make a better
world for the children (andél mean
all the children, not just the white
ones or the moneyed ones or what-
ever) if we are willing to share what
we have, live lives of service, and
be peacemakers. 

We need to give give give not ‘til it
hurts but ’til it makes us whole.

» Thursday 6 October
2005, 7:05 PM

Each day here is a lifetime, and they
are each very different. Last night’s
blog entry, early this morning really,
was coming from a place of being
overfull from the intensity of the
day. Today was a lot mellower, and I
am feeling much less stressed. 

People are returning to the city,
many to find that they have lost
everything, and I mean every thing.
These tend to be older folks since