Monday, September 05, 2005

Reflections on Katrina: Adam Renner

I had hoped to be able to include more coherent thoughts by now, but I still haven't reflected all the way through this issue yet. I preface my comments with these thoughts in mind to acknowledge they are evolving and that I am seeking constructive feedback.

It's been awhile since we, as a country, have faced such a natural disaster. From here, it is difficult to really gauge its effect, only able to live it vicariously through the media--a pretty helpless feeling, given that we rarely ever get the whole story through our news outlets.

I want to be critical of the relief efforts; I want to be critical of the evacuation efforts; I want to be critical of the preparation for the hurricane, but I first want to acknowledge that other than sending money (which I will do through collections here at BU), I've not done much, personally. Second, I want to acknowledge the incredible acts of courage and, no doubt, selfless compassion that have (and will continue to) occur throughout these unfolding events.

This second issue, I guess, provides as good a jumping off point as any. Because what it does is highlight is the difference between the structural and the individual. While the individual acts of courage and compassion will comfort many; while the US citizens will rally around each other in the face of a disaster (as we also did on 9/11/01); and while these individual actors will only see people (not color or class or citizenship) in the face of immediate, dire need, much of this could have been prevented had more structural considerations been made ahead of time.

It is becoming pretty evident that no evacuation was possible for the city’s poorest (who also tended to be the city’s people of color). People with cars could get out of town. People with families out of town or credit cards had places to go to safely sit out the storm. In a recent editorial by Michael Parenti, he recounts Cuba’s experience with last year’s hurricane that devastated the island. The Cuban gov’t was able to evacuate 1.3 million people (10 % of the total population) from the wrath of the hurricane before it hit, losing no lives in this natural disaster. Why didn’t we have the same plan in place? Our death toll will probably top 1000.

It also appears the relief efforts have been feeble, ill-planned, and disorganized. Certainly, a plan must have been in place. While getting supplies to some in the matter of a few days, given the circumstances, may seem like good turn-around time, I certainly wouldn’t want to the be the one waiting. Some are still waiting more than a week afterward.

Finally, it is clear that city planners had been worried about this levy situation and had continued to seek more money from the federal government. As Parenti and Maureen Dowd (in today’s CJ) points out, their budget continued to be cut. It was so sad to hear from an engineer in the Netherlands (which has a vast portion of their land below sea level) talk about the kind of money they have spent on their infrastructure, figuring that its better to spend the money now then spend so much later in dollars and lives if the big one hits. But our country falls easier prey to the nature of the market economy, often gambling—and it has often been at the expense of our most vulnerable, those without a voice in the gambling decision. Now, as we watch the poor and black faces on the news, will we be moved to do more structurally (once the news coverage dies down) after we give, individually? I was left with a hope after 9/11/01 that we might all take stock and make some changes. I’d be foolish to say I have seen any kind of substantive change. Am I foolish to think change is possible this time?

Dr. Renner is the Chair of the Graduate Education Program at Bellarmine University

1 Comments:

Blogger adam said...

This post formed the initial thought for my editorial that appeared at www.pucknation.com in November, 2005.

the hopeful struggle: The hurricane that challenges an American ‘way of life.’

Since the hurricane struck, like many others, I’ve been reflecting on its devastation and the message it brought with it. A week after the hurricane came and went, I joined a national online dialogue regarding the events.

I wanted to be critical of the relief efforts; I wanted to be critical of the evacuation efforts; and I wanted to be critical of the preparation for the hurricane. But, I also wanted to acknowledge that other than sending money (which I would do through collections at my university) and helping out at a local church, I hadn’t done much, personally. Second, I also wanted to acknowledge the incredible acts of courage and, no doubt, selfless compassion that had (and have continued to) occur throughout the unfolding events.

Both of these acknowledgements continue to frame my reflection on Hurricane Katrina and strike directly at the heart of the problem as I see it: oppression as viewed through an individual vs. a structural lens. While the individual acts of courage and compassion will comfort many; while the US citizens will rally around each other in the face of a disaster (as we also, briefly, did on 9/11/01); and while most of these individual actors will only see people (not color or class or citizenship) in the face of immediate, dire need, much of this could have been prevented had a better structural understanding of oppression been realized.

It is becoming pretty evident that no evacuation was possible for the city’s poorest (who also tended to be the city’s people of color). People with cars could get out of town. People with families out of town or credit cards had places to go. In a recent column by Michael Parenti, he recounts Cuba’s experience with last year’s hurricane that devastated the island. The Cuban government was able to evacuate 1.3 million people (10 % of the total population) from the wrath of the hurricane before it hit, losing no lives in this natural disaster. Why didn’t we have the same plan in place?

It is also now evident the relief efforts have been feeble, ill-planned, and disorganized. Michael Brown, FEMA’s director, certainly didn’t have a handle on the situation. And, Michael Chertoff, head of Homeland Security, repeatedly denied there were people trapped at the Convention Center. Turns out, there were thousands holed up there.

Additionally, it is clear that city planners had been worried about this levy situation and had continued to seek more money from the federal government. As Parenti, earlier, and Maureen Dowd (NY Times, 9/2/05) pointed out, their budget continued to be cut. It was sad to hear from an engineer in the Netherlands (which has a vast portion of their land below sea level) talk about the kind of money they have spent on their infrastructure, figuring that its better to spend the money now then spend so much later in dollars and lives if the big one hits. But our country falls easier prey to the nature of the market economy, often gambling—and it has often been at the expense of our most vulnerable, those without a voice in the gambling decision. Now, as we continue to watch the poor and disproportionately black faces on the news, will we now be moved to do more structurally (once the news coverage dies down) after we give, individually? I was left with a hope after 9/11/01 that we might all take stock and make some changes. I’d be foolish to say I have seen any kind of substantive change. Am I foolish to think change is possible this time?

Disconnectedness
Upon further reflection, I am disappointed to think that what changed that fateful day in September was that we developed a doctrine of unabashed hubris and pre-emptive war. At a minimum we trampled feelings of solidarity and connectedness between other nations and the US and among fellow US citizens. Perhaps this ‘change’, though, is really not a change at all. It is, instead, symptomatic and a manifestation of a structure of inequality and injustice—often hidden from view, but felt, particularly by those marginalized and disenfranchised by the system.

To take part in the current (individual) blame game is to obfuscate the real culprit. Indeed, President Bush and his cronies failed miserably, which he has admitted (to some extent). But we, as a country, failed miserably as well. Structural inequality precedes President Bush. It is part of our history. A history, unfortunately, we know little about or, at best, on which we have a naïve and nostalgic take. If you haven’t read Howard Zinn’s A people’s history of the US, this would be a good place to start. If you still have the heart for it afterward, check out Loewen’s Lies my teacher told me.

Our structural inequality is one based on race, class, gender, ability, age, sexual orientation, ability, etc. One need only look at the stories coming out of New Orleans to realize that it is not just racism, but other forms of difference discrimination that has leapt to the fore. Indeed, the vast majority of victims in Louisiana and Mississippi are poor, casualties of America’s long class war. Stories of the differently-abled and elderly being left behind also punctuate the headlines. What still gets the greatest play, though, is race. No doubt, it should get play, and the role of race and racism deserves significant examination and deconstruction.

It is nothing short of absurd to allege that race had nothing to do with the horrific aftermath of the storm since it had everything to do with the situation many of the victims were living within when the storm struck (which President Bush also acknowledges). Again, this is a historical problem that we pretend is a part of a distant past. It lives, breathes, and reappeared as the flood waters receded. Some have reacted, indignantly, that race had anything to do with the relief efforts (Jacoby, Boston Globe, 9/14/05; Parker, Opinion Alert, 9/12/05; and a host of conservative talk show hosts). To not see race as figural in this event is to be completely blind and historically ignor[e]ant. It is clear from but a couple (of the many) images that have been reported that race matters: (1) headlines that declare the black man carrying a bag from a store was “looting” and the white family in the same circumstance was “searching for food” or (2) the story of the police from the adjacent city firing over the heads of mostly black families telling them to turn back and not cross the bridge into their town. In later reporting, the mayor of this mostly white town vowed that if he had to do it all over again he would give the same order because he was not going to have “another Superdome” in his community. Subsequently, his city council unanimously voiced their vote of confidence for his handling of the matter. Our disconnectedness has reached a crisis level.

Capitalism, not democracy
Along with a realization that we are relatively disconnected to our fellow humans, what this storm also uncovers is that the US is more concerned with capitalism than democracy—a greater concern with private property and personal perpetuity. As the private foundations line up to take care of what should be a government relief effort; as the government prepares to give contracts (public money) to Bechtel, Halliburton, and others (private companies) along with churches; and as President Bush vows not to raise taxes or end the tax cut for the wealthy, it seems clear there is money to be made from this tragedy. In fact, most Americans polled by ABC favored paying for the rebuilding of New Orleans by cutting government spending in other areas (like social programs, for instance). So, we’ll steal from the poor and give to the rich to rebuild New Orleans? Disconnectedness, indeed.

We fancy ourselves as such a democratic nation, but really what we are, and what this storm helps reveals is a capitalistic nation. Taken a step further, our efforts abroad are not to export democracy, it is to unleash market-driven, global capitalism. While the charade of democracy fills our TV sets and radios, Iraq is becoming incorporated by private firms and will soon be at the economic behest of the global financial elites. It was convenient this time to cast Saddam Hussein as a ruthless dictator, as he was (even when we were aggressively supporting him in the 1980s). Thus, it was easy to claim the reason we had to go there was for democracy. Why did we have to go to Nicaragua? Or Chile? To overthrow democratically elected governments? Why is Pat Robertson so inclined to have the democratically elected leader of Venezuela assassinated? Hurricane Katrina helps change the way we and the world see the US. Our true concern is capitalism, not democracy. Capitalism is at the heart of the racist and impoverished conditions with which the residents of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama lived, not democracy.

An American way of life
After the terrorist attacks of 9/11/01, we heard much rhetoric built up around the protection of the American “way of life.” If, in fact, the war on terror is a war to protect our way of life, what is the way of life we are protecting? Hurricane Katrina went to some lengths to expose just what this “way of life” may entail. A recent edition of The Economist (9/10-9/16) thinks so, too. It’s cover read, “The shaming of America” and the cover article went on to read, “Since Hurricane Katrina, the world’s view of America has changed. The disaster has exposed some shocking truths about the place: the bitterness of its sharp racial divide, the abandonment of the dispossessed, the weakness of the critical infrastructure. But, the most astonishing and most shaming revelation has been of its government’s failure to bring succour to its people at their time of greatest need” (p. 11).

Not since immediately prior to the Brown v. Board of Education decision has racism and segregation in America been so clear. Of course, one of the main reasons Brown v. Board of Education was successful in the first place was to win the Cold War. Other countries, particularly the Soviet bloc of nations, knew of our American apartheid. (South Africa even decided to adopt it.) The Soviets tried to convince smaller nations (of color) to join them, using America’s racism against itself. Why, they would ask, would you want to be discriminated against, given the US policy of Jim Crow segregation? The decision for Brown was a major victory in the Cold War. In fact, although the progress was slow, it was a step in the right direction for our nation. Unfortunately, racism never really went away. Now, an American Apartheid is back in our spotlight. Hurricane Katrina loosed its chains.

What is the hope?
While I do not maintain the same type of naïve hope that we might see a self-check or substantive change as a result of tragedy (like I did after 9/11/01), I do sustain a critical hope that we might keep the issues of injustice in plain view long enough, forcing us to confront structural issues that are no longer hidden. This event, and its revelation of issues, could be the lightning rod around which the Left (Democrats, Greens, Cynics, Others) and members of the Right who feel the Republican Party has been co-opted by the Christian Fundamentalists might come together. We must recognize that these relief efforts cannot solely occur at the individual level. We must work to undo the structure of injustice at the same time We must work, like my colleague and friend, Milton Brown, suggests, to become better community citizens in our immediate neighborhoods. And, we must also work to expand these communities beyond our segregated neighborhoods to include more voices from across our cities, nation, and world.

Along with engaging each other in communities of dialogue we must continue to demand good public education for all our children. According to most critical educators, we are failing a great majority (if not all) of our children through hyper-standardization and high-stakes testing. Critical thinking is supplanted by fill-in-the-bubble fact sheets. Big ideas are forsaken for minute details. And the arts and the expansion of our whole selves are replaced by drill-and-kill curricula that deaden our souls.

We can create a new “way of life,” but only if we act now. We can supplement (or better, supplant) our military might with caring communities. We can foster good will through true demonstrations of democracy, rather than engendering hatred through the spread of cannibalistic capitalism.

Hurricane Katrina has offered us a morbid reminder that we have, indeed, not progressed as far as most in this country would like to think we have. Racism, classism, ableism abound. However, Hurricane Katrina also offers us a challenge to redefine this American “way of life,” one worthy of protection, promotion, and exportation. If 9/11/01 was not the moment to check the direction of this American Empire, Hurricane Katrina offers another opportunity. We clearly did not heed the hurricane’s first warning. Let’s not miss the second warning.

12:53 PM  

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