NOLA Service Trip: The Reflection

It's been nearly two weeks since I returned home from New Orleans. I've been incredibly busy with Red Cross and cheerleading, but in the midst of it all I was blessed with the opportunity to publish an article about my service trip in the Tacoma News Tribune.

Reminiscing over the events that occurred in New Orleans brought to mind several joyful memories, as well as some harsh realizations. For instance, the story about the home owner's daughter who gave birth to twin boys - just think, those newborn twins have to be raised in a 300 sq. ft. living space until the rest of their house is complete. That's not okay. It's not okay for anyone to be subjected to such living conditions.

But the one thing people need to understand is that Shirts Across America does not build houses for people who never had a home. Shirts Across America rebuilds homes that were destroyed during the hurricane. The objective of organizations like Shirts Across America is not to give people what they never had, rather, to fix what is rightfully theirs.

So at the end of my trip I can honestly say that I have a deeper appreciation for everything in my life; I smile more often, and I have yet to complain about doing the dishes. Part of this is because there's nothing at home that compares to the physical exhaustion of the work that I did in New Orleans, but part of this is because I finally understand how blessed I am.

I never have and never will have to live in poverty like too many people in this world do. I'll never have to worry about having a roof over my head, or witness my life get washed away by a hurricane. God has been too good to me so it is my responsibility to reach out to those who face exceptional hardships.

I'm so grateful to have had the opportunity to help rebuild the city of New Orleans.









If you've been inspired enough by my blog to help make a difference in New Orleans, then please visit one of the following websites:

www.shirtsacrossamerica.com

www.stbernardproject.org



Thank you for following me on my journey in New Orleans. And hopefully you, too, will find peace by participating in some area of service. God bless.

-Lizzie

"If you want happiness for an hour -- take a nap. If you want happiness for a day -- go fishing. If you want happiness for a month -- get married. If you want happiness for a year -- inherit a fortune. If you want happiness for a lifetime -- help somebody."

NOLA Service Trip: Day 6

Well, today is officially our last day in New Orleans. I cannot believe how fast time flew by over the past 6 days. But at least we got to end our festivities in New Orleans with an incredible church mass, group reflection, and one last night of goofing off at the camp.

One of the major highlights on the entire trip was going to church today. For starters the church was the first African American Roman Catholic Church I have ever gone to in my life. To be quite frank, I never knew such a thing existed. That may sound a bit naive on my behalf, but I have never gone to a Catholic Mass where there were actually people who looked like me. However, race is not the most important issue here. The most significant aspect about the church was its vibrant energy. We walked into the church and were blasted with hospitality from every person in sight. It was kind of obvious that our group was not from New Orleans, so the church members and the priest took it upon themselves to make us feel as welcome as possible.

We sat down in our pews and talked to the parishioners around us. When I looked around the church I figured that the closest image I could come up with to describe the style of the church would be a mix of a Roman Catholic cathedral and an African jungle. The floors were made of white marble, while the altar and the chairs the priest and altar serves sit on were wooden and had African images carved into them. To the left of the altar was a beautiful baptismal fountain, and to the right of altar were pews reserved for the awe-inspiring gospel choir.

Mass began with a warm welcome from the announcer to everyone in the parish, but he made a special shout out to "our visiting neighbors from Seattle". As the announcer kept talking, his words soon turned into song and suddenly I could hear the piano and drums playing beside the gospel choir. The priest and altar servers walked down the aisle while the church was still in song; that was when I knew that this church had something special about it. The altar servers wore white robes with a green shawl with red and black stripes on it, and  the priest's entire outfit was green with the red and black stripes. Everything from the colorful attire to the portrait of an African Jesus on the wall added to the vibrant atmosphere of the church.

We sang most of the prayers during mass as opposed to just reciting them. There is something about singing that makes you feel more connected with God and the people around you. I, for one, was definitely empowered  by all the singing we did during mass. Back home, whenever the whole church was required to sing a hymn I always took that as my cue to mouth the words of the song so no one, not even God, could hear the atrocity of my singing voice. But things were different at this church. I did not feel vulnerable or  to embarrassed sing. There is something about the unity and spirit of the church that gave me the ability to step out of my comfort zone. I felt more welcome at this church than I ever had at my own parish. We all felt so comfortable and at home at this church.

The best part of mass definitely had to be the gospel choir. Every member of the choir sang with such soul and passion that it made it so easy for people in the pews to want to join in song. The choir director was exceptionally amazing; with an extraordinary voice and an unparall energy, I could not tell if that was really the choir director or Jennifer Hudson. Although we sang most of the prayers during mass, singing the Our Father was the most unifying experience. Holding hands, swaying side to side as we sang the prayer made me feel so connected with everyone in the room and with God in a way that I did not know was possible.

The homily was great and I could clearly understand every word that the priest was saying. Usually people get lost during the homily but there was not a single person in the room that did not feel the words coming out of the priest's mouth going straight into their heart. The priest was Caucasian but he had no problem communicating with the predominantly African American parish. The homily focused on the Good Samaritan story and how it is important to help not just the people who are in need but the people whom you dislike; the people that annoy you or make you feel frustrated. By the end of the homily I realized that you cannot just focus on exclusively on helping the poor or sick, being a true Christian means lending a hand to those who have hurt you as well.

After mass we ran into a lady that knew the family of one of the girls I cheer with. This just goes to show how small the world really is and how connected we are. When we left the church we walked around the city for a little bit before eating lunch. We visited Loyola University of New Orleans, as well as Tulane University. Both campuses were extremely gorgeous, and I might consider on giving Tulane a last minute spot on my college list.

When got back to camp we had our last dinner followed by a group prayer and reflection. At the reflection we went around the room recollecting our favorite moments on the trip. Some memories were comical, while others were a bit more sentimental. It was a beautiful way to end our last night together. Afterwards, three other volunteers and I went outside and talked in a circle with food and games. Not only have I made some incredible memories on this trip, but I have made some great friends as well.

I really do not want to leave. I honestly wish I could stay here just a little bit longer. This has been one of the best experiences of my life and I will never forget my week in New Orleans.

NOLA Service Trip: Day 5

It is hard to believe that today was our final day of work. Tomorrow we are going to go to church and tour around the city; we catch our flight back to Washington on Monday morning. Instead of breaking up into our usual teams our whole group went up to Chalmette to work on a house together. When we got to the house, most of us spent our time taping and mudding dry wall. This just means that we had to spread "mud" along the cracks and seams of the walls in order to make the surface more smooth. Mudding was most definitely the easiest and least time-consuming job we have had all week.

We continued "mudding" for two hours when it started to downpour, and lighting began to strike. It was a unique experience to work in a house during a thunderstorm, and the chaos proceeded when an ambulance and fire truck pulled up into the neighborhood. Everyone in the room was frightened and slightly confused when the ambulance parked in front of our house. When the paramedics rushed out of the vehicle a a little boy came running around the corner and said: "I'm Tony, and my mom is having a baby!"

Apparently the home owner, his daughter, and her kids were living in a shack in the backyard until the volunteers were finished rebuilding their house. Before the home owner and Tony had left for the hospital I got the chance to talk to Tony for a little bit. Tony had light blond hair, fair skin, and the most fascinating blue eyes I have ever seen. He was very small for his age, and quite frustrated as he told me how the paramedics completely destroyed his wooden playhouse in order to make room for his mom on the stretcher. Tony also told me that his mom was having twins and that he was excited to become a big brother. When Tony and his grandfather left for the hospital I went back inside to finish the rest of the mudding.

Soon after, our AmeriCorps supervisors took us out to eat Sno- balls during our lunch break. When we were done eating our supervisors took us to their living quarters. There were two stories in the house and ten volunteers lived on each floor. The inside seemed very cramped but the house had an incredible sense of community. I could definitely picture myself living in one of those crowded rooms someday as an AmeriCorps volunteer.

It didn't take long for us to finish mudding today. We got back to camp almost two hours early and got ready to go out for dinner. The restaurant was lovely and had the most amazing food we have eaten on this entire trip. Laughing around the dinner table was a nice way to end our last day of work, but it also served as a reminder that our trip will unfortunately have to come to an end soon.

NOLA Service Trip: Day 4

Before we started work today we took a trip to a bayou near the Lower Ninth Ward. An AmeriCorps volunteer gave us a tour of the wetland and explained its history. A bayou is basically a river with an extremely slow moving current. Before Hurricane Katrina the bayou had once been filled with an abundance of freshwater creatures and plant life. After the hurricane, however, salt water from the Gulf  broke through the levee north of the bayou killing all sorts of wildlife. The hurricane has also left excess water in the bayou five years later. It was interesting to learn about the environmental effects of the hurricane as we all sat on the overlook staring out into the open water. When we started talking about how the bayou impacted the people surrounding it a man fishing in the bayou put down his line and began telling us his story.

Keith had lived in the Lower Ninth Ward for his entire life. When he was twelve he used to catch 5 feet long gar in the bayou with all his friends. Keith lived in New Orleans for 54 years and never moved out of the city, not even for the hurricane. Keith said he decided not to evacuate the city because he was 1) stupid, and 2) not as concerned as he should have been with the storm. Louisiana is infamous for its hurricanes so many residents expect hurricanes to pass by after a few hours, especially since all hurricanes start out as a only a light wind. Even city officials around the Lower Ninth Ward reassured people like Keith that the levee would be enough to protect residents from the catastrophic disaster we now know as Hurricane Katrina.

Keith had also mentioned that city officials told residents living in the Lower Ninth area during Hurricane Betsy that the levees be enough to protect the city from the storm. Although the levees failed back then Keith was still reluctant to leave New Orleans. Weeks later Keith discovered that his home was destroyed during the hurricane. When the flood water drained out of the city, Keith went back to his neighborhood to witness the damage. Besides the destruction of his own home, Keith's mother's home the house he was raised up in since birth, was also destroyed. Keith said that there were times when he would walk down his old neighborhood  wondering if his friends and the people he grew up with were dead or alive. Everything he had known was either lost or destroyed, and Keith, like the millions of other people effected by the hurricane, had to find some way to face the hardship and continue to move on with life.

From Keith's perspective city officials let the hurricane water flood through the levee in order to help save the affluent neighborhoods up north; allowing the flood water to flow through the Lower Ninth Ward relieved pressure from higher elevated cities, which saved businesses and homes from damage. Whether or not city officials allowed the Lower Ninth Ward to be flooded for convenience is up for debate, but there is no argument against the reality of the situation today: the Lower Ninth Ward still remains the hardest hit city from the hurricane; the bayou is still contaminated with saltwater; and the people living in the Lower Ninth area are still struggling to survive. Another point from Keith's  theory is that the Louisiana government will not make a greater effort to rebuild the Lower Ninth Ward because it allows people from out-of-state to tour the city in buses to witness the hurricane damage. This is what Keith refers to as "sympathy buses". The major issue stressed in Keith's viewpoint regarding the actions taken before, during, and after the hurricane is that they were, for the most part, economically based. The levee was a sacrifice for the businesses up north, and the unfixed houses are a tourist attraction. It is all a business deal and the Lower Ninth Ward has to pay.

"People are still dying after Hurricane Katrina" Keith said, "they're all dying to come home. People from Texas, Mississippi, and Louisiana are just dying to go back to their homes." Talking with Keith gave me a true, gritty perspective of Hurricane Katrina through the eyes of one of its survivors. Keith's story is just one of many in the city of New Orleans, and there are plenty of people who have not made it as far as Keith has post-hurricane. We thanked Keith for sharing his story with us, for allowing us to experience his personal outlook. Keith picked up his line and we went our separate ways.

NOLA Service Trip: Day 3

When I came back to camp from a morning run I took a quick shower and got a birthday cake ready for one of the camp workers. Some of the other volunteers and I baked the cake last night, and between purchasing the cake mix to figuring out how to use a conventional oven - it took a good three hours to finish the cake. But the bonding that occurred among the volunteers plus the look on the camp worker's face when she received her birthday surprise was well worth the time.

After we had breakfast and sang "Happy Birthday" our whole group drove up to St. Bernard Parish to tackle whatever they had in store for us. Today's job: move housing material from to the new warehouse at the St. Bernard Project headquarters.

Due to increasing support the St. Bernard Project was granted enough funds to purchase a bigger warehouse in order to store material to build more houses. With the warehouse all set it was our job to move doors, windows, and various housing material from the moving truck to the new warehouse. Some of the material was light enough to carry alone but most of the moving required us to work in pairs. Since there was an odd number of people we ended up switching partners multiple times, but this allowed us to talk to everyone at the site.

The humongous warehouse seemed to go on forever when we were inside. There were no lights or windows and there was only one fan that was supposed to keep us all cool. When we started unloading material the heat became unbearable. I reached the point where I felt like I was drowning in my own perspiration. I don't know which surprised me more - the short amount of time it took for me to drink 24 oz. of water, or my ability to sweat it out.

The first hour of work was extremely exhausting, but it got easier as the day went on. The more we worked in the warehouse the closer our service group came together. The most unifying experience occurred when we began unloading 12-14 ft. long planks of wood into the warehouse. The planks were too long to be moved into the warehouse by a fork lift so we had to carry the planks in by hand. It took two of us to carry the planks in stacks of three. We also had two people transferring the planks to the carriers and two people stacking the planks once they were brought into the warehouse. As the hours passed our station eventually fell into a flawless routine.

Carrying planks inside the warehouse soon turned into a mindless job. No one had to think about what they were doing; we all sort of transformed into machines walking in and out of the warehouse. The hardest part about carrying the wood was trying to find the most comfortable way to hold the plank. Whenever I tried to manipulate the plank against my body I always ended up walking in an awkward side shuffle with the plank in my arms. Everyone's goal was to hold the plank in the least painful way as possible. But no matter which way you held the plank it would always find a way to dig itself into a hip bone or a rib cage. There were multiple times when my mind wandered off, but I never skipped a beat when it came to work because my body always knew what to do. We were all so dedicated to our work - when they called break I would collapse on top of a pile of wood and lay motionless unless I was talking to someone or drinking water. But once we started working it was like I had never been tired. For one day I had become invincible. We all felt that way, though. That is what brought us together, this common bond that empowered us to feel like we could move the world if we all worked together.

By the end of the day we moved over 700 planks into the warehouse and celebrated with some ice-cream. Up until that point the warehouse had been filled with chatter and music, but as we ate our ice-cream the entire warehouse silenced for several moments. Not because we didn't have anything to say, but because we didn't need to. My experience in the warehouse tested my mental and physical endurance, and I realized by the end of the day where my personal capability truly stands. I have never known the meaning of strength until today.

NOLA Service Trip: Day 2

We started out our day bright and early. After breakfast everyone in our group was assigned to work at one of three different housing locations. Two classmates, a faculty member, a parent, and I were assigned to do finishing work on a house in the St. Bernard Parish.

When we arrived at our destination we took a quick tour of the house and were immediately assigned to our individual jobs. My first task was to spread a liquid adhesive on one of the bathroom floors. The purpose of the adhesive is to make the floor tacky enough to ensure that the bathroom tiles stick firmly to the ground. The bathroom did not have any windows or lights, and the only light source we did have was located just outside of the bathroom door. The downside about the light was that it radiated even more heat into the sweltering bathroom. Despite the heat and darkness, however, my biggest challenge was cleaning up the dirt on the ground left by my shoes. Eventually, I opted to finish the job in my socks, but I still had to clean up the dirt that was already on the ground. There was not a broom stick in sight so I ended up sweeping dirt and dust off the floor with my hands. I also had to pick up a dead fly and other deceased insects to make sure that the floor was as clean as possible for the adhesive. Any other day the mere thought of cleaning dirt with my hands or even touching a dead fly would send me running for the hills. But today nothing mattered to me more than making this house the absolute best it could be for the home owners.

After I finished painting the bathroom floor with the adhesive I was assigned to paint a closet in the main room (living room).

When I finished painting I went back to the bathroom to place tiles on the floor with the help of the supervisor of our build station. Our supervisor is also an AmeriCorps volunteer and I talked with her a little bit while we placed tiles on the floor. She told me about the home owner and informed me that there was actually a New York Times article written about the very house we were rebuilding. Placing the tiles required a significant amount of patience, flexibility, and geometry skills. It was difficult to make sure that the tiles were placed evenly and followed a specific pattern, especially since the room was so dark and stuffy. But before we placed the last few tiles on the floor our group took a quick lunch break.

The original plan was to eat lunch at Camp Hope, the place our service group was initially assigned to stay at before BP volunteers took over the camp. However, when one of our own volunteers asked to use the restroom at Camp Hope a police officer turned her away and told her that the BP volunteers had completely taken over the camp (as of yesterday), and that none of the volunteers from the St. Bernard Parish were allowed to use their facilities. The event was very hurtful for us volunteers, but we accepted BP's request and ate lunch on the porch of the house. As conversation drifted off to what had occurred with the BP officials, a very important fact was brought to the table: many people in England have stocks invested in BP, and we cannot blame them nor employees who work for BP gas stations for the oil spill. Although the oil spill is an ugly disaster that remains to destroy our earth and wildlife, we cannot blame the BP company as a whole for what has happened. The best step we can take as a society is to dedicate ourselves to oil spill relief first, and worry about who should take the blame later, if ever.

After lunch we all went back to our jobs. As I began tiling the floor our station got a surprise visit from the home owner and his family! The home owner was an incredibly kind man and it was such a lovely experience to meet him and his family. The only distressing part about their visit was hearing the home owner's personal experience with Hurricane Katrina. When the storm passed the home owner began rebuilding his house in order to provide shelter for his wife, kids, and grandchildren. But mold from the flood damage began to surface in the house and destroyed his home yet again. After the owner spent all his money toward rebuilding his house, as well as having suffered a stroke, he turned to St. Bernard Parish for hope. The home owner and his family thanked us several times and said that they would be back on Friday to see us before we leave. The family left the house and we worked for a few more minutes before we called it a day.

The houses we rebuild are not breath-taking at first sight nor are they marvelous in size. We do not accommodate the original home owners with elaborate decorations or luxuries. We are not trying to provide people with some variation of "Extreme Home Makeover" - we are just trying to help people get back on their feet. That is what organizations like Shirts Across America and the St. Bernard Project are about, helping people get up again and move on with their lives years after Hurricane Katrina.

NOLA Service Trip: Day 1

Lower Ninth Ward in New Orleans

Today marks the beginning of my week long adventure in the wonderful city of New Orleans. My purpose here? To help rebuild homes for Katrina victims, gain a deeper understanding about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and continue to spread awareness about the effects of the hurricane so that someday we may restore New Orleans to its former self.

I am currently at Camp Restore in New Orleans, Louisiana with eight students from my school, as well as six adult volunteers and twenty other students from a separate camp. Our service group departed from Seattle at 11:00 p.m. last night and arrived in Dallas at 5:00 a.m. I honestly wish I could say that I slept well on the flight, but I spent most of the morning tossing and turning in my seat. We stayed in Dallas for about an hour and a half until we finally left for New Orleans. We arrived at New Orleans at 8:20 a.m. - and so our adventure began!

After everyone got their belongings situated at the camp we preceded to have lunch, followed by an orientation at St. Bernard Project which is about 30 minutes from the camp. At the orientation we met up with an AmeriCorps volunteer who briefed us about Hurricane Katrina and its effect on the people of Louisiana, specifically the people living in the St. Bernard Parish. During the orientation we were informed that the people of the St. Bernard Parish are extremely family-orientated and often times live within close proximity of their extended family. Many of the homes in the St. Bernard Parish were passed down from several generations, which contributes to the close-knit factor of the small city.

When Hurricane Katrina swept over St. Bernard Parish the majority of homes were destroyed; entire families were torn apart; and the damage still remains visible today. It was heart-wrenching to hear the multiple road blocks home owners faced in order to rebuild their homes. First of all, flood insurance was not available to home owners because FEMA had stated a year prior to Katrina that the state of Louisiana was not endanger of any hurricanes because the last major hurricane to impact the state occurred in 1965. Even home owners insurance did not cover flood damage, leaving contractors as the last source of hope for several New Orleans citizens. Unfortunately, many contractors took advantage of home owners by running off with their wages without repairing any of the flood damage.

After the orientation our group had the opportunity to meet with Liz McCartney, one of the founders of the St. Bernard Project. The St. Bernard Project is a non-profit organization dedicated to rebuild homes for Hurricane Katrina victims. Mrs. McCarthy informed our group about the incredible impact the St. Bernard Project has had on the people of New Orleans. Over 200 homes have been rebuilt with the help of high school and college volunteers since the hurricane hit in 2005. The St. Bernard Project has also teamed up with Shirts Across America, which is the organization I am volunteering with.

At the end of the day our group made a trip down to the area most devastated by Hurricane Katrina- the Lower Ninth Ward. First we drove past the solar-powered homes designed and funded by Brad Pitt. The homes were incredibly unique and extremely interesting to look at. As we drove further into the Ninth Ward, the remains of the hurricane damage became more apparent through the vacant house lots, leaning telephone poles, and the debris that scattered the sides of the streets. There is a particular eeriness about the Lower Ninth Ward, and for the most part the whole area felt...empty.

We ended the day with a group reflection and prayer. Today was exhausting to say the least, but tomorrow is when the real work begins; we are going to start working on the houses tomorrow, and I could not be any more excited! Until then, good night and God bless.

For information regarding the St. Bernard Project visit: http://www.stbernardproject.org/

The Introduction

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” - Howard Thurman

Hello world! And welcome to my online diary. Before I start blogging away I would like to tell you all a little bit about myself. I am 17-years-old, and a soon-to-be senior at Bellarmine Preparatory School. Cheerleading takes up most of my time, and helping others takes up most of my heart. I recently became cheer co-captain, as well as Youth Chairman of the Red Cross program at Madigan Hospital. I am excited for my new leadership positions and have already started working full throttle in planning fundraisers and various community service projects.

I have a lot on my hands this summer. From Red Cross planning, my upcoming service trip, cheerleading, college applications, studying, and completing my summer reading for two AP English classes - it is safe to say that I have not had enough time to do anything aside from the activities listed above. My life has always been like that, though. Never having time to do anything because I am always doing everything. I have a tendency to make things harder for myself, but I am happier that way.

I discovered at an early age the reason why God put me here on this earth. The reason why I keep living. The purpose for which I was made. I am here so I can help people. There is a slight difference between passion and purpose. Passion is something you feel, and purpose is something you know. I know that my duty is to serve others - and I can feel it too. So follow me over the next few months as I continue on my journey of faith and service. And witness my adventures as I try to discover peace in a hectic, but wonderful life.