New Orleans, Behind the Mask, by Reid Robinson

Reid Robinson participated in the JustWorks Katrina Relief Camp in New Orleans.

I just got back from New Orleans. I was there on a UUSC JustWorks camp with my local youth group. The trip was amazing. I cannot speak for anyone else from my group, but I know that the trip for me was one of the most spiritually awakening experiences I have ever had.

I had previously gone down about one month ago with the YRUU youth social justice training. However, it was different this time because we truly got to see the two faces of New Orleans.

I guess it is kind of ironic that the city of masquerades, of putting masks over your true face to have a good time, is truly a masquerade. New Orleans has two very different faces. At one extreme, you have the well-off party district of the French Quarter and right across the river, you have the Katrina-battered and government-ignored Ninth Ward.

This type of difference we would expect to see in some developing country. But no, this isn't a developing country (depending on your definition of developing). This is the United States of America.

Nothing I could have done, seen, or read could have prepared me for the sights that I saw. Houses completely gone, cars on top of houses, houses leaning into other houses, personal belongings completely destroyed, and the other side of New Orleans looking as it did the Mardi Gras prior to Katrina: perfect.

The most emotional experience I ever had was the second day of work when we were gutting a house. Papers were still laid out on the bed waiting to be read. Videotapes were still on the dresser waiting to be watched. Family portraits were still on the wall waiting to be admired. Bowls were still in the sink waiting to be washed. I started thinking about my own house, imagining 15 to 20 feet of water entering it, and then wondering what would people find there if a flood came today.

We were instructed to throw everything away. I had found someone's Social Security card, life insurance policy, report cards, deeds to the house, and birth certificates. It hurt to watch myself throw away papers that my mom holds in a special location in a special box. Then someone had to throw away a family portrait and was reluctant to do so until a guy came and asked, "Can I see that?" It was the son who had grown up in the house. He was happy we were gutting his house and we gave him the family portrait and personal papers. He said, "If I had known you all were coming I would have barbequed something."

However, it wasn't until we started gutting the bedroom that my heart sank. We found the skeletal remains of a dog. I couldn't bear to throw away this person's dog. I thought that if someone found my dog in my house, I would want them to bury him properly. Luckily, we got in contact with the owner in Baton Rouge, she wanted us to bury the dog. We buried the bones that we could find and were just silent for a couple seconds. To me, digging that hole was one of the most important things I did all week.

I am kind of sad I never got to see New Orleans prior to Katrina. Perhaps I will come down to celebrate the city of New Orleans, perhaps it will be me who is behind a mask participating in the grand masquerade. The things I saw, I will never forget. The words of people I met will never leave my head. The sights I saw will always be burned into my mind. The emotions I felt will never leave my heart. Most importantly, the motivation I gained will never die off.