Thank you for visiting our site. Even though we will soon be on summer break, we appreciate any support you would like to give. We will be hard at work this summer and fall planning our 2009 Spring Break aid trip, as well as planning more local aid activities next school year. If you would like to send a tax deductible donation while we are break, please make your check out to "UC Regents" with "HALO" in the subject line. These donations may be sent to:

HALO c/o Madeleine Fischer
Accounting Services
School of Law
University of California, Davis
400 Mrak Hall Drive
Davis, CA 95616

Have a great summer!
HALO

A boarded up building. A dance school. Boarded up, empty, with a for sale sign in front, for a developer to absorb and turn into a tourist paradise.

But, on the boarded up windows, spray painted words: "We will dance." A smiley face. A phone number.

Life in Mississippi is going on. It will go on. It has to go on. Amid the boarded up buildings -- a coffee shop, a cafe, a drug store.

Things in Mississippi are still terrible. Very little is rebuilt, except for the casinos. The residents who have remained face many challenges in rebuilding their shattered lives, even years later. But life has to go on. And it will go on. Our responsibility, as a nation, is to not forget Mississippi, and to make sure that the lives that do go on in Mississippi are the best possible. No formaldehyde poisoning, no contractor fraud.

Life is going on. We just need to be sure that the life that does go on is the best possible life -- free of the scars of Katrina, free of the scars of poverty and injustice. Two and a half years later, the lives of Mississippians should not be burdened with the raw remains of Katrina.

There is still plenty of work left to do.

I have always been a cynical person, someone who copes through gallows, dry and tongue-in-cheek humor. But working on the Compelling Stories and viewing the surrounding landscape of Mississippi took my temperament around an even darker, more morose bend.

I spent every second that I worked with the MCJ classifying people's lives and their tragedies. The tragedies of contractor fraud, FEMA evictions/denials, mold or formaldehyde poisoning, landlord & tenant hostilities and a plethora of other atrocities. However, they became routine. How do you even say that? Someone's personal tragedy isn't extreme enough, it's "routine." These are people's lives. Their Lives. And I could dismiss them in a manner of minutes as not worth enough to be potentially used to illustrate the plight of Mississippians to the world. Some of the case files consist of a simple referral to this center or to another attorney but no more on the person's actual situation. Perhaps it's the "best" to demonstrate the actual situation, but I don't have the time to call and follow up. After I finished a pile of cases, I received a hundred more. By the end of the day, if you couldn't impress me with something that broke the routine, they went back into their file, back into a box with hundreds of others just like them.

And the worst part? At the end of the day I felt I have accomplished nothing. I have gone through heartbreaking tales, but I felt utterly empty. The other groups came back with stories of triumph, of making a difference and feeling good about what they did. When we had a group check-in to talk about our experiences, only the Compelling Stories group couldn't say that they felt that they were making a difference in people's lives and feeling instant gratification of their good deeds. Fortunately, the attorneys at MCJ could completely relate to how we were feeling, because they actually had to hear these tales and take down the information we were classifying. Maybe we'll all feel accomplished later, but right now it feels like a drop in the ocean.

Of course, there are moments that truly take your breath away at the endurance of the human spirit. A group of us went to a restaurant for dinner on Wed. night where we met the most wonderful woman. Though she's surrounded by the decay of a forgotten city, she still brightened the room. She lifted our spirits while she served us our meal. Even though my compatriots and I go through the worst flaws of the human race, insurmountable human degradation for hours on end, this woman decided to stay. To stay and put on more than a bright smile. She is thriving in SPITE of the horrendous conditions surrounding her. And seeing that tiny pearl joy of brings clarity to the whole of my experience. We're here for them, not ourselves. We are here to prove not to them but to ourselves that we will not forget. That we will not toss them aside like the rest of the country and the media. Our position is not one of condescension but of understanding. Not rhetorical positions but actual work to benefit all involved.

The attorneys working at MCJ are some of the most incredible people I have ever had the privilege of meeting. Their strength was a constant inspiration. Watching John argue in front of the Mississippi Supreme Court on the moral indignation of an employee when she was told to lie to people seeking shelter after Katrina about the availability of rooms in a hotel and charge more than double per person. Or Reilly with his boundless energy and his willingness to sit down with all of us to make sure we were truly cognizant of the situation in Mississippi. Crystal was always available with all our questions, and I can't tell you how incredible it is to show her a list of potential people to call and to have her remember so many tiny details about them. I went through hundreds of files with my coworkers, but Crystal knew them by heart. And, of course, Denise always helped us with any questions we had and gave us the true Mississippi experience. Before we left, she bought about 40 lbs. of crawfish. We all had a good ol' time ripping them apart.

Yet for all this, it's not enough. I came out with a deeper respect and understanding of the hardships this place has experienced. But the absolute ignorance from the rest of the population is disgusting. I sat next to a man on the flight back from New Orleans to Dallas. When we got to talking, he asked me how I had enjoyed New Orleans. When I informed him that I had gone to do legal work in Mississippi, he told me point blank that Mississippi didn't need the help, because they had funding that Louisiana didn't. I told him about all the destroyed homes surrounding the rebuilt casinos. His response was along the lines that they were lucky to have those casinos because they make money. Never mind the fact that the casinos are part of the problem! Never mind that the casinos are selfishly pocketing all the revenues but are leaving the actual residents of Mississippi to fend for themselves! Of course, he didn't stop there but said that "those people" should just move and that it shouldn't be rebuilt at all, because it's below sea-level and a waste of taxpayers' dollars. I was so thoroughly disgusted with his statements that I literally could not help myself from going slack jaw with revulsion. The image I've included demonstrates the disparity between his beliefs and the cruel reality of the situation.

Of course, this "gentleman" is not alone in his sentiments. Many people are in agreement, because they do not know. Or perhaps this selective memory loss enables them to make it through their days. I feel so disjointed. I feel angry, helpless to remedy it all.

So, now we're back in California. I'm supposed to go back to what I was doing before. To feel like the world is a friendly, wonderful place. To study the law like nothing bad is happening in the Gulf Coast region. That those people's lives are magically going to turn around. That everything will be rainbows and kittens. It's not. I don't know if it ever will be.

We’re on our way home and I’m leaving MS with numerous mixed emotions. I can’t stress enough that nothing prepares you to see the Gulf Coast, year 3 of post-Katrina. Reilly took us down a street in Biloxi the other day where every single lot was empty. The entire neighborhood was gone. The storm could have happened last week. People in MS will tell you that time moves differently on the Gulf Coast, there was life before Katrina and now there’s life post-Katrina. There are so many details and reasons why life is different after Katrina, and it invades every moment of the day. Everyday is a struggle for people trying to piece back together their lives and return to “normal”.

All week long, my group helped Crystal go through her hundreds of clinical cases, and often times I had to be the bearer of bad news to say that MCJ unfortunately could not help them. MCJ told us that the number of people that attend their open clinics is burgeoning, which is indicative of a crisis that is far from over. Sometimes, when I told people we could not help them, I was treated with anger. “The government can’t help me, you can’t help me, who will?” I’m still not sure.

On the other hand, the majority of people I called were grateful that we even got back to them. For the people that MCJ had the resources to help, you could feel raw hope emanating over the phone.

I’m angry about injustices (see post below), and how Katrina sharpened the divide between the rich and the poor. Even the divide between the rich and the middle-class.

I feel guilty because I’ll go home and my life will return to “normal” but every day people on the Gulf Coast will continue live in their post-Katrina world.

I’m inspired by the people and the organizations we worked with in MS. MCJ has helped so many people obtain the resources to rebuild the home, prevent people from losing their homes, receive assistance to pay for rent, or receive unemployment they deserve. I felt emotionally drained after one week of talking to Katrina victims, so I have enormous admiration for everyone at MCJ that works with victims everyday.

I’m disappointed that I could not do anything to help every single person I talked to. But I realized that for the people that the amazing public interest and pro bono attorneys working in the Gulf Coast can help, that lawyers really do have a duty to help people. Lawyers have the ability and knowledge to use the law, and other people don’t. It’s not fair that just because one person has money, they are allowed to have a hugely disproportionate access to the law. Many people are denied assistance, and there’s nothing they can do to appeal, since they were “correctly” denied assistance under the guidelines. Even though there may be no legal action, FEMA was arbitrary, inconsistent and unfair in disbursing aid.

Thank you, MCJ, Restoration Point, and every organization down there that is trying to fix the Gulf Coast. Thank you to everyone on HALO for making this trip happen. I know there were times when I wanted to give up, and I was cranky and tired from my personal problems at home. And thank you to my family and friends that emotionally and financially supported me every step of the way.

A woman that I talked to this week shared her very emotional story with me. She moved in with her ill mother before the storm, and their house was destroyed, their dogs were killed. After the storm, they moved into a FEMA trailer and were subsequently poisoned with formaldehyde. Her sick mother died in the hospital because they would not let the woman take her mother back to the noxious trailer. She told me, she has nothing and no one. If she disappeared no one would know. I think MS has disappeared, and no one knows. This is why the most important task that I, and the rest of HALO, are charged with, is to remember. I was explicitly told not to forget her story, and it is so important that I bring her story back to California with me. The knowledge of injustice is something we have to tell everyone. She told me to go home and hug my mother, and I will. She was so emotional and angry but so grateful that I listened to her story. Every day I will be thankful for my “normal” life and I will not forget the post-Katrina life that people will continue to deal with one minute at a time.

Now that the trip is over, I wanted share a few of the horrifying issues I learned about on the Gulf Coast.

1. Formaldehyde. After the storm, FEMA ordered hundreds of thousands of trailers to provide temporary housing for people with literally no where to live. In their haste, FEMA did not bother to allow the trailers to sit for the certain number of months necessary for formaldehyde to dissipate. New trailers release formaldehyde from the wood and other materials they are made with, and this problem is exacerbated by moisture. Clearly, the Gulf Coast was a moist place after Katrina.

When people began getting sick with burning eyes and throats and bloody noses, FEMA began testing for increased formaldehyde levels, as early as 2006. However, they were advised by their attorneys to halt testing to avoid legal liability. Now that the problem is apparent, FEMA is rushing to get people out of the trailers.

I have to admit that I didn't know about formaldehyde poisoning before the trip. To learn about it was shocking and appalling. FEMA poisoned countless people after the storm, and tried to cover it up. People still live in these trailers! There’s a pending class action suit and I hope FEMA pays for this horrible oversight.

2. Casinos are such a controversial issue in MS. Since the storm, the most noticeable and flashy landmarks are casinos, particularly because they are the only nice places. I learned that the governor gave the casinos extra money to rebuild, when there was already funding available. Meanwhile, people continue to live in poisonous FEMA trailers because the governor decided that casinos were more important. How important is it to raise revenue and attract tourism, when the town is still gone?

Moreover, casinos were located on barges and ports off the mainland before Katrina. The government decided that the ruins out on the water should be disposed of by sinking them in the ocean, and calling it a reef. If the ocean wasn't dirty enough after the storm, now it has a beautiful, natural reef composed of casinos! I’m not an environmental expert, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t kosher.

3. The forgotten little sister. I don't blame you if you thought I was going New Orleans. I think everyone at some point thought I was. The problem is that once people hear Katrina, it is synonymous with New Orleans. The state of New Orleans is terrible of course, but people forget that it's terrible in MS too. New Orleans was a levee and flooding problem, while the coast of MS was battered by the hurricane itself. People in MS often feel that the damage was worse there, yet New Orleans gets all the attention. Perhaps because MS had the title of already being the poorest state in the country, nobody cares that it continues to be wrought with poverty and crisis. Please remember that Katrina hit five states, and not just New Orleans. Injustice continues all over the Gulf Coast in the country's failure to rebuild these places.

On our first day in Mississippi, we drove along Highway 90, which follows the coast, from Gulfport to Biloxi. I looked out the window to my left. Beautiful white sand beaches stretched for miles, peppered with palm trees and adorned with a boardwalk and beach umbrellas. I sat mesmerised at the beauty. I never thought that such a place existed in Mississippi which could so closely resemble some of the best beaches in the world. Then I looked out the window to my right.
The land along the coast looks as though Katrina tore through it a week ago. Some houses were rebuilt, but as I later learned, most of those were just shells, with no one living inside. Pieces of people's lives were still strewn about the properties. Pieces of the place many were at one time lucky to call home in such a gorgeous place. On many lots, all the remained was the foundation of the house, and the occasional staircase. Homes that were badly damaged but not knocked down still teetered precariously, some still full of possessions that no one could possibly salvage.
This all seems very depressing. However, my experience in Mississippi has been nothing but positive his week. I have seen the seeds of change in some for the most wonderful people I have met. My group worked on a project with the Community Land Trust in North Gulfport, a low income community that suffered terribly from Katrina and in its aftermath. The MS state government took $600 Million (that is NOT a typographical error) from funding allocated to rebuild low income communities, and are planning to build an inland port terminal for cargo in the middle of the North Gulfport community. Our task was to survey the community to see what they thought about this port terminal, and organize a community meeting about it. While hitting the pavement and surveying, I found in what looked like a run down, unsafe neighborhood a vibrant community with outstanding young men and women.
Mr. Cordero is a young man that I met that restored my hope and faith in the rebuilding of the entire Gulf Coast. He grew up in North Gulfport, and knows everybody. Mr. Cordero is active in his church and community, working for Americorps in his hometown in order to increase the community's confidence in itself and bring them together to fight the port project. He truly impressed and inspired me. I now have a new faith in the power of small numbers, even in the power of one.
Ms. Angie blew me away with her finesse for public speaking, and the heart and soul that I saw her put into this project. I walked every block of North Gulfport, and Ms. Angie was right beside me every step of the way. Angie ended up running the community meeting last night. Her passion and ability to relate the problems that the port will bring to the rest of the community got everyone at the meeting fired up and ready to respond. I will be eternally grateful for the opportunity to meet her. She was like my mom this week!
It is important to realize, though, that these great voices can shout as loud as they can, but they wont be heard far and wide without a little help. Everyone, everywhere, should do what they can to educate themselves about the problems of the region, and come down as see for themselves what an amazing place it truly is. We as a community and a nation need to stand behind these voices, to spread the word, and to become vessels for the change we need to see.

Even though Katrina tore apart people's lives and homes, it couldn't destroy their foundations. And that's half the battle.

Bill Moyers recently had a segment on the housing crisis in the post-Katrina Mississippi Gulf Coast. The segment features a few of the lawyers we worked with at the Mississippi Center for Justice as well as the Steps Coalition (a partner organization with the Mississippi Center for Justice). Here's a link to the segment:

http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/11162007/watch2.html

My group’s job is to sift through the case files, to find “Good Stories.” What are “Good Stories?” They are the most egregious things you can think of – things painful and heartbreaking enough to make the public take notice, if they make it into the media. The problem with finding these so-called “Good Stories” is that they are anything but good – every story is a tragedy. Contractor fraud? A tragedy. Losing your home? A tragedy. Formaldehyde poisoning? A tragedy. Mold poisoning? A tragedy. But, what we are looking for aren’t the tragedies – we need the stories so painful and terrible, that the media will stop and look.

It is an incredibly desensitizing job. We have sifted through well over a hundred files – and each time we return a pile of cases, we are given even more. Boxes of files with names and ages and pain. So much so that each individual story is lost in the flood – and only the worst stand out. Stories of families vomiting blood from formaldehyde poisoning in their FEMA trailer. Unlicensed contractors robbing the elderly of every penny. Towards the end of the day, it is hard to focus –you almost begin to find humor in the absolute absurdity of it all. It’s a way of coping.

Even driving through town is unremarkable – the ruins all blend together. It’s no longer shocking. It is sad. The whole situation down here is completely beyond the pale.

There is an entire generation being left behind, in this state. How will the children of Mississippi grow up, seeing all they know washed away? How will they grow up, knowing that even years later, not much has improved? Please do not tell me I am sensationalizing. Truth be told, I am not. I spent a full work day sifting through files -- everyone here is suffering, and the poor, the minorities, and the disabled are all facing enormous hurdles to reconstructing their shattered lives.

Katrina is not the ultimate cause of many of the problems these people face – Katrina merely forced these problems out into the open, and amplified them, so that the poor are poorer. Treating the problems seen in the post-Katrina Gulf Coast will mean that we, as a society, need to address the deeper issues of poverty, poor education, government bureaucracy, racial discrimination, among other things – so that this will not happen again.

Even if the ongoing crisis of this disaster does not move you, then think of this – what will happen when the Hayward Fault goes? Will we be still picking up the rubble, two and a half years later? Will Oakland and Berkeley be barren wastelands?

My group’s project may not allow me to give raw numbers about the sheer scale and injustice of the current situation in Mississippi – but, we have sifted through a broad scope of human suffering, to find the worst of the worst.

Katrina was terrible, but Katrina was nature. Contractor fraud and formaldehyde poisoning – these tragedies are human in origin. While we can’t control nature, we can control the aftermath.

As our van was entering the City of New Orleans, I had a feeling of inexplicable excitement. It's been two years since my last community service activity here, and I was eager to see for myself the transformations in the city since my last visit. To my dismay, it was one disappointment after another. The first building that I saw was the abandoned hotel in which I slept in during my last visit. It is still abandoned (with a huge "for sale" banner), and it seems to have deteriorated from its already dilapidated condition. The outside walls were all dirty, most of the windows were cracked, and the parking structure was filled with trash.

As I was trying to come to terms with this disappointment, the eye-soaring tent city appeared before my eyes. To make it more disturbing, the tent city is located under the overpass (next to the abandoned hotel that I stayed in) where we used to have meals when I was here last. Now, this dirty and dusty "dining hall" is filled with rows and rows of tents, occupied by people who have been kicked out from their FEMA trailers and can't afford to rent houses in the city.

I kept asking myself the same question - What is going on here? I remember the purpose of my last community service trip was to help victims clean out their homes, so they could move out of their FEMA trailers as soon as possible, and rebuild their homes in order to lead a normal life. But what I saw was the exact opposite, instead, people are moving from a trailer to a tent.

These disappointments were well illustrated during our orientation sessions at Tulane and Mississippi Center for Justice. It was mind-boggling to learn that instead of helping Katrina victims, city and state governments in both Louisiana and Missisippi are actually pursuing policies aimed at worsening the situation. In New Orleans, we have people driven from their trailers to live in tents. In Gulfport, we have government diverting federal funds earmarked for home-rebuilding being used to subsidize projects like improving ports facilities.

Personally, it was really distressing to see the situation deteriorating from bad to worse, I really hope that our work this week would create awareness in whatever ways possible of the continuing problems experienced by Katrina victims.

http://www.mscenterforjustice.org/

MCJ is the legal organization that is hosting us for the week. It is an amazing group of public interest attorneys who are dedicated to their communities in a remarkably inspiring way! Check out their website to learn more about the work that they do. Thank you MCJ for opening our eyes to the challenges of the post-Katrina crisis. You exemplify all of the virtues of public interest law and we are so grateful to you!

http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/11162007/watch2.html

* it works on Firefox...

Yesterday we were introduced to the organization we will be working with, the Mississippi Center for Justice (MCJ). I was truly impressed by the organization, the work that they do, and the people that run it. As an aspiring public interest lawyer, I felt inspired, which was a nice contrast to the disgust and frustration I had felt up to that point in seeing what is going still happening on the gulf coast.

After touring the destruction, my only thought was,"Where do we go from here? What do you do with such a crisis?" MCJ helped me to find some answers.

We were introduced to MCJ by their team of compelling attorneys. Their attitude and their wonderful accomplishments were truly motivating. They were telling us the story of how MCJ got started, and they recounted the conversation they had immediately following Katrina. They said their organization's founding mother, Martha, sat them all down and asked them a question. It wasn't, "What is the greatest need?", "What should we do?", or "Where do we go from here?". Instead she had them close their eyes and imagine what they wanted newspaper headlines on the gulf coast to look like in two years. Then, with that goal in mind, they moved forward. I was very impressed by this approach. When you are hit by one of the biggest catastrophe's in our country's history, I can imagine how easy it would be to get hung up on the details, lost in them even, and become totally overwhelmed by the situation at hand. But instead, these attorneys were able to focus on the most ideal end. And they continue to work toward it today.

One of the attorneys, in describing what MCJ does, said that they have a "cross-pollination" of direct services and policy work that enables them to achieve the greatest change. After doing so much thinking lately about how to be that perfect public interest lawyer, hearing him speak was so refreshing. He spoke about his family and how much he loves his work. Another one of the attorneys will be giving an oral argument tomorrow in front of the Mississippi Supreme Court to argue a landmark case about price gouging, the first of its kind since Katrina. Each person at MCJ is doing something important. By simply starting with a dream of a headline two years down the road, these attorney's have managed to truly make a difference. I hope to approach my career with as positive an attitude and to make even a fraction of the impact they have made.

The Mississippi Center for Justice functions in conjunction with the Lawyer's Committee for Civil Rights Under Law. It is one of the oldest and most effective organizations in fighting for civil rights and was founded at the suggestion of President Kennedy. At MCJ they do all kinds of work from assisting people in cases of contractor fraud and eviction, to organizing community initiatives. We were also shown extensive aerial photographs of hurricane damage. We had learned the day before during our time volunteering at Restoration Point that many homes were hit by 35 foot waves, and the photos we saw illuminated the true extent of the damage. Giant casino barges were thrown entirely onto land, crushing everything in their path. You could also clearly see in the photographs, Gulfport's racial divide on either side of the railroad tracks. The waves went miles inland, hitting the rich and the poor sides of town indiscriminately. The more I see, the more and more shocked I am.



True to the way most of this trip is going, every time I think I understand the extent of this situation and that it couldn't get more complex and frustrating, it does. At MCJ, after getting our introduction, we split off into separate projects to work on for the week. I am working with the advocacy arm of a neighboring organization, Back Bay Mission, on some Housing Policy analysis. Even in the brief introduction that we were given to the housing policy research we would be doing, things got more, and more, and more COMPLICATED.

I mentioned that we saw pictures of all of the casino barges completely washed up onto land. What has happened since then, in Biloxi and all over the gulf coast, is that the casinos have come back in full force. The way the story was told to us was that "the legislators went in their pajamas to get the casinos on land". Within 8 days of the hurricane, legislation was passed to allow casinos to build on land, whereas before they were only allowed to be on water. The speed is truly remarkable when you consider how slowly everything else seems to go down here. Coming from Nevada, where gaming is such a big industry that really fuels the state's economy, it was really interesting to hear how the casinos are tearing these communities down. Rather than recreating the jobs that existed before the hurricane, a huge amount of lower-paying service jobs have come in their place. Since the casinos are providing so many jobs, little restrictions are placed upon them. And the casinos are covering lands where homes once stood. And unlike Nevada's gaming which brings in a lot of money from out of state, the Mississippi casinos just circulate the same money around. Money that could be helping put people back in their homes. It just perpetuates the problem of no money, no affordable housing, and nowhere for people to go. As our supervisor put it, many people saw this awful catastrophe as an opportunity to exploit and make money. To them, a crisis is a terrible thing to waste.

As it stands now the cost of living in Mississippi as a whole is 3% higher than the national average, with the annual salary 12% below. According to FEMA's most recent report, there are only 462 rental units available at fair market rate in the entire state of Mississippi. Unbelievable. And despite this decimation and struggle, people have still exploited the tragedy and tried to use it to their advantage. It has truly changed the face of recovery.



I think this raises some interesting questions about human nature in response to such a tragedy. While some are crushed and feel there is nothing they can do, others are inspired and motivated to lift their communities back up, and still others want to take selfish advantage. The casino developers saw the tragedy as a terrible thing to waste, and they are still riding the profits today. I think that the noble attorneys of MCJ also saw this crisis as a terrible thing to waste, but in an entirely different way. They saw the opportunity to make a difference, to stay in their communities and lift them back up, and to fight against injustices that existed even before the hurricane. Poverty and race issues were a problem in Mississippi long before Katrina came raging through, and the hurricane was an opportunity to bring attention to the problems and put force behind solving them. So even for those fighting the noble fight, the crisis is still a terrible thing to waste.

Driving through Mississippi is like entering a twilight zone, a post-apocalyptic world. The trees are bent and dead, bark torn off, leafless. The roadsides are barren and overgrown. On one side, white sandy beaches, and the other, vacant emptiness. Until you pass the half-blown out Outback sign. Or maybe the stairs leading nowhere. Or the lone toilet. Or the overgrown swimming pool. And then, the eerie row of rebuilt mansions, or brand new casinos.

Two and a half years off, this is deplorable. Even driving on the highway out of New Orleans to Gulfport was incredible – as far as the eyes can see, a wasteland of dilapidated houses. An abandoned hospital, tent city, the juxtaposition of a beautiful blue building beside a pile of rubble… now, two and a half years later.

Mississippi was hit differently. While New Orleans flooded and stewed, Mississippi was mowed clean by wind and water and a storm surge of Biblical proportions. Whole towns were washed out. Pass Christian, Mississippi, for example, was completely wiped out.

Restoration Point is a non profit that works in communities like Pass Christian and the neighboring Bay St. Louis, which were wiped clean by Katrina, by rebuilding homes for low income residents. Behind each empty lot and barren foundation is a story. Half of us painted a house in Bay St. Louis. The surrounding neighborhood was a mixed bag – some houses were completely rebuilt, while others had been abandoned. In the neighboring lot, there was nothing but a few concrete stilts sticking out of the ground – all there was to show that there had once been a house there.

Downtown Gulfport is a shadow. It’s impossible to imagine it as a resort town – the downtown is full of boarded up facades, crumbling buildings, and for-sale signs.

Who really is recovering, two and a half years later? Why are the casinos rebuilt, but not the homes? Where do you live, without a home? In a tent city? In a formaldehyde drenched FEMA trailer? Do you leave your family home?

Two and a half years later, this should not be an issue. The fact that there is still rubble on the ground, homes unbuilt, people homeless and ill and falling prey to contractor fraud and price gouging – people should still be talking about it. There are great disparities in the rebuilding process – drawn along racial and socio-economic lines.

I asked a close friend of mine what he thought of my photos of the ruins of Katrina. I asked, “Were you surprised?” In response, he told me, “I hadn’t thought about it.”

We, as a nation, must think about it. Why are the casinos back, but not the homes, especially the homes of the poor, the minorities? Why have we allowed this region to remain so thoroughly devastated? Why have we forgotten?

This week, we will be working at the Mississippi Center for Justice – and hopefully our work, in some small way, will make some impact on the lives of those left behind and forgotten in the wake of Katrina.

Mike Davis, one of my history teachers, said to always start off with geography. So let's begin with geography of the Gulf Coast. The Gulf Coast is shaped like an upside down "T" with the Gulf of Mexico to the south, a small bay to the west and a larger, longer bay to the east. Gulfport, the city we are staying in, is towards the middle of the "T". Biloxi is to the east at the end of the T. Pass Christian is to the west, at the other end of the T. The flat part of the T, along the coast, is traversed by a rail line. Winds blow, north, from off shore.

Like many towns, across the train tracks means the poor side. In Mississippi, this is often the "black" side of town. The reason for this, in older towns, is that the wind would blow the trash from the good side of town to the poor side of town. The wealthy here often live right by the beach in big beautiful houses.

When Katrina hit, a 30 foot wave of water surged into the Gulf Coast. At the edges of the T water poured in from the gulf and the two bays. The casino barges were washed from their off shore locations onto the Biloxi landmass. The damage to the houses along the beaches and on the T's was immense. The sea took almost everything.

The railroad formed a type of natural barrier for those further inland. Their houses were instead struck by 140mph winds. Most of the houses on higher ground were rendered unlivable by the hurricane. To be fair, they were barely livable before the storm.

Katrina is not just the failure of our government to provide adequate emergency resources. Katrina aggravated the preexisting problems of structural racism in our country. Furthermore, the recovery effort has ignored those pre-existing problems.

Mississippi's reconstruction effort targeted those that experienced flood damage. I am not in anyway attempting to minimized the phenomenal losses of those families. They deserve our help as well. In fact, we spent Sunday, putting the finishing touches on a house that had been washed away and rebuilt by volunteers. However, we should be also helping those at the lowest rungs of the social ladder.

Those who experienced wind damage alone do not qualify for assistance under the Mississippi three billion dollar program federally funded disaster relief program. The neighborhood I walked in today was devastated by winds. Houses were crushed. Many were caved in. No one in that neighborhood has ever had the money to repair their homes and probably never will.

I counted quite a number of FEMA trailers. How long are these people supposed to stay in these? Why isn't the nation helping them? Do they deserve less help? They don't need much help to get them back just to some sort of starting point. The average MEMA cottage, an alternative to the temporary trailers, costs 40,000 including installation. It has a life span of 15 - 30 yeas and is designed to withstand up to 150 mph winds. Those in the flood plains were eligible for up to 150,000$ in aid. Just recently, the Governor has attempted to divert $600 million from the housing assistance fund to build a new port extension. This money was specifically earmarked to help low income families. Why are the barriers still in the way?

I can expand on the political situation a bit later. However, long story short, we are leaving a lot of people behind.

Labels: North Gulfport

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On Saturday, before the sun came up, 22 of us met at the Sac airport to depart on our highly anticipated trip to Mississippi! We spent the whole day traveling and our first sight of Katrina was during the drive from New Orleans to Miss. Just from the freeway we saw plenty of damages: houses with no windows and/or no roofs and/or entire portions missing out of them.

On Sunday we spent the day working with Restoration Point, an amazing organization that rebuilds homes in Miss as well as keeping in contact with the families after they move in. Jim, one of the people that head Restoration Point brought up a different perspective that I never thought of--that a house doesn't end the problem. So many people have been displaced and suffered so many losses that even after they have a new home, the house is empty.

We just started at the Mississippi Center for Justice today and we split up into different groups. We're just getting started but the people at MCJ are amazing. Crystal, one of the kind attorneys at MCJ, took us to eat gumbo at this tiny hole in the wall joint which made me sinfully happy. Everyone has been so nice and welcoming and genuinely happy that 22 California kids came to spend their spring break in Ole Miss.

I'm so glad we decided to come to Miss. Driving around, we can see entire neighborhoods that have yet to be rebuilt. At MCJ we learned about an organization called Steps, which gets their name partly from the imagery of the empty steps that sit on lots. All that's left are 3 or 4 steps that don't lead to a home, and we see this everywhere. A lot of Gulfport is still a ghost town, interspersed with gaudy casinos. I can't imagine coming home and only seeing 1 or 2 houses left on my block. There have been so many injustices in Miss and I hope more people will pay attention and do something. I'm excited to continue working at MCJ this week and learning more about Miss. There are tons of photos of the devastation, so make sure you check out my fellow trip-goers posts!

Davis Enterprise Article: "The storm has not ended: UCD law students spend spring break helping
victims of Hurricane Katrina"
http://www.davisenterprise.com/articles/2007/04/22/features/253fea.txt

Hurricane Katrina and the Continuing Legal Crisis

Come hear the experiences of 11 law students who spent their Spring Break in New Orleans providing legal and reconstruction assistance.

Thursday, April 5, 2007

at noon

in the Wilkins Moot Court Room.

Southern Food will be provided by the Davis Food Co-op

The University of California, Davis School of Law gratefully acknowledges the American Bar Association Law Student Division for its support of this program.