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.