The following blog post was written by Sarah Campbell, of UU Church of North Hills, Pittsburgh, Penn., while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp, in New Orleans. She is 16 years old.

The following blog was written by Rev. Jennifer Hamlin-Navias, while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp in New Orleans. She is an ordained UCC minister and the Director of Education at May Memorial Unitarian Universalist Society, in Syracuse, N.Y.

Things I learned:

• Upstate New York has no idea what hot really is.
• When you all sweat together it doesn't smell.
• Sheetrock mud fixes everything.
• There is still nothing better than freeze pops on a hot afternoon.
• Outdoor showers rock!
• The solution to insomnia is hard work.
• Blisters are badges of honor.
• Laughter heals more than you can imagine.
• Love gives us courage.
• Fear makes us small.
• Volunteer is a sacred name.
• There's no mistake so big you can't fix it.

There is more that I want to put into the above list. But I have not yet been able to figure out what that is. But I have not yet been able to figure out what that is. Perhaps it needs to percolate a bit more; maybe I need to process it to make sense out of it. I also wonder if there is a part of my experience that is simply beyond words. So if I were wise I would stop writing now. But I feel compelled to try to communicate.

At one point I realized that the information we were getting about New Orleans was devastating — racism and injustice abounded before and after Katrina, and still abounds.

The levee that broke was real, and the water that flooded thousand upon thousands of homes was real. But another "levee" broke for me, one that had held back the reality of the injustice that still lives in this country. I wanted my country, my people, to be beyond that. I wanted my levee of denial to hold firm, but it did not.

What my government, your government, has not done is pathetic. What made that realization livable was seeing that, in one small way, I was part of the solution. To know that I was part of a larger group, "the volunteers," allowed me to see where the hope is in New Orleans. The hope lies in the power of the New Orleans community to rebuild itself and in its power in asking other communities to join in that effort.

I am honored that for a small bit of time I was part of that effort. I hope that sometime in the future I will be able to be part of that effort again.

The following blog was written by Taylor Longo, of Syracuse, N.Y., while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp in New Orleans.

I return home carrying with me all of the memories, stories, experiences, and a new outlook. I think of all that we did in the week we spent in New Orleans - and all that still needs to be done.

I think of the nice lady with the two young kids who thanked us and brought us cold water and soda as we cut her once-neighbor's grass; those children who have no one to play with; the family whose faces lingered in that lonesome picture frame that hung in that abandoned house. I pray that they are safe and wonder where they are today.

I think of all those who thanked us, all of those who helped us to get here, and all of those who worked alongside me. I truly hope that they are doing well.

I think of all I learned from Dr. Kimberley Richards of the People's Institute for Survival and Beyond, Mary Croom Fontenot of All Congregations Together; Rev. Tyronne Edwards of Zion Travelers Cooperative Center, the staff and volunteers, and all of those kids.

I think of the man who told us about the water we stood in front of. I hope that he is a step closer to getting into his house.

I am so thankful that I now can truly explain to others why the people of New Orleans should get help and support. I can use pictures and stories. I hope that because of these stories many others will do what we have done.

The following blog post was written by Eternity Williams, of Syracuse, N.Y., while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp, in New Orleans. She is 17 years old.

It’s the last day of work and we’re all in the car, waiting for the ferry. As I sit here, I'm thinking about how the trip went, but my thoughts are distracted by laughter. The laughter comes from Conner and Sarah, and it is wonderful. It makes me realize all of the friendships we have made in such a short time.

We all met at the airport with one common goal: to do as much as possible to help New Orleans. From that point to our final goodbyes, we have left a mark on New Orleans.

I hope we will all stay in contact on Facebook and be able to meet in New Orleans or another place to help the community. I had a great time creating bonds with these people. The best part was working as a team, from putting up sheetrock to mudding the holes in the walls.

We, as a group, made memories that we will never forget. I had a blast, and I really hope we can do this again.

The following blog post was written by Mike Cohen, of Syracuse, N.Y., while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp, in New Orleans. He is 17 years old.

Today I dragged myself out of bed for a quick breakfast, after which I was spirited away to the house I've been working on these last few days. It's true that I had choices of other work sites, but for one reason or another I keep ending up at this one.

Now this house isn’t the prettiest thing. It's currently covered in plastic, and inside there are only varying degrees of brown and white. To my dismay the colors haven’t changed much since I got here. However, I've been told that we are making progress.

This house is owned by a person who originally didn’t need any assistance. She paid a contractor to help her rebuild and expand her home, so her extended family could move in. But the contractor did a terrible job, cashed her check, and left without a trace — an all too common practice in New Orleans after Katrina.

So it was up to me and the group of volunteers I’ve been working with to slather a substance that our supervisor calls "mud" over the walls and cover every crack with tape.

But we've been covering the walls with something other than just mud. We have been sweating too. New Orleans needs human help, it's what this city most needs. But no matter how many buckets of mud they buy, no matter how many ladders they set up, if they don’t get the workforce then this city will never be returned to its original splendor.

Even if it doesn’t look like we’ve gotten anywhere on one single house, I know I’m a part of a greater movement that will sweat their bodies dry to help water the once and still great oak that is New Orleans.

The following blog post was written by Eternity Williams, of Syracuse, N.Y., while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp, in New Orleans. Williams is 17 years old.

Coming down to New Orleans has been an experience already. On the plane ride I was really excited to see lots of new houses being built and redone. But to my surprise, that’s not what I saw at all. What I saw was hurtful.

I saw empty lots with grass growing taller than me and abandoned houses for miles. The saddest part was seeing the concrete steps leading up to nothing. (They used to go up to houses!) I thought there would be a lot more work going on, but there isn’t.

I have learned a lot about what really happened during and after Hurricane Katrina. We had a discussion with Dr. Kimberley Richards, of the People's Institute for Survival and Beyond, and I was moved by what she told us. She explained about the issue of race.

One story that really touched me as an African American was what happened to residents of the American Can Apartment Building. Basically, people — black and white — were trapped in the building by the flood. They all moved to the roof, where they began trying to wave down helicopters flying over them. Then they realized that they should only let the white people flag down helicopters. When the helicopters passed over and saw only white people, they decided to rescue them.

Hearing that really touched me because when people’s lives are in danger and you’re coming to help, race shouldn’t matter.

I’ve been helping drywall a house for the past few days. Seeing the state of distress that this city is in makes me want to just rebuild everyone’s house with money out of my own pocket.

I have also realized what I am going to do in my spare time. I am going to do as much volunteer work as possible because the satisfaction of helping people and rebuilding people’s lives makes you feel like a better person.

The following blog was written by Liz Allen, of Syracuse, N.Y., while participating in a Katrina JustWorks Camp in New Orleans. She will be starting her first year at Bucknell University in the fall.

In the days leading up to this trip and during the multiple plane rides I took from Syracuse to New Orleans, I often contemplated my upcoming trip. I came to the realization that this experience would be vastly different from the community service that I have done in past.

I have worked with the homeless and the less privileged. I have worked with children and the hungry. And I indirectly affected lives through Heifer International. However, never before have I done such focused service work.

I have met people who have been a part of this rebuilding effort and people who have known New Orleans as a tourist attraction but who have never personally been here.

Seeing the devastation firsthand, like we did on our tour today, is surreal. I’ve recognized buildings from the news and felt myself nearly drowning as I saw watermarks far above my head. I saw empty lots and doors marked by deathly symbols. I saw destroyed foundations and stairs leading to nowhere.

But most of all I saw the resilience, optimism, and hope that exudes from everyone whom I have met, and I have happily accepted this positive attitude.

Because I have enjoyed my time here in New Orleans, despite the destruction, I’m sure that I will have an even greater appreciation for the city once it regains its footing.