katrina, color and class

it seems that this has become a blog about katrina.
but, as my roommate and i were discussing this morning, it would be almost frivolous to write about anything else right now.

i've already mentioned that austin has converted its convention center into a makeshift shelter for the evacuees from new orleans. i understand that people are living communally. sleeping on cots, showering in shifts, sharing toiletries, etc. i've also made reference to the fact that many of the people currently housed at the convention center are black (thus the need for the black hair products).

there is another evacuee story, however.

thursday morning i was waiting for the bus to shuttle me to school. there are mostly graduate students who populate the nook of my neighborhood; the women waiting for the bus with me did not seem to be exceptions. just as the bus rounded the corner i began to catch strains of conversation between two of the women also headed to UT. one was asking the other how she liked the neighborhood so far. she loved it. if she had settled into her apartment ok. she had.

they sat next to me on the bus and continued the conversation. i caught the newcomer recounting her journey to austin weeks before. she and her roommate had evacuated new orleans when the hurricane warning was issued. it had been like other hurricane evacuations. even though they had avoided interstate 10 and took backroads, the trip to austin proceeded at a snail's pace for most of the way to houston. not so bad from houston to austin.

she had been to the red cross for what, it wasn't clear to me. but she had drawn a number to be seen in the thousands. there were too many people there. "there was no way they were going to get to my number by the end of the day," she said. "they just told me to go back tomorrow. so i'm going to go back today after class."

i am not going to say that it was not traumatic for this woman to have to leave her home in new orleans. it must be devastating to realize that your home, your entire town has been wiped out. but i coudn't help but think about the vastly different life this young woman - this evacuee - is living compared to her counterparts who are currently in the austin convention center.

she lives in an actual neighborhood, probably in a cute duplex (like mine). she has been able to transfer to UT - thanks to the generosity of the university and the state - to continue her degree program. she takes the bus to school and attends classes. her life is probably certainly different than it was in new orleans. but she's obviously preserved a certain degree of routine and normalcy.

the difference. this woman is white. she had a car in which to evacuate the city when the hurricane warning was issued. she had a destination, perhaps a place to stay in austin. maybe because of her student status, she has financial aid for school, probably for rent. food. the basic necessities to make it on her own.

while i'm happy that she has been able to transition so smoothly to a new life in austin, i can't help but be shocked at the difference between her journey from new orleans and the journey of others. of those who were trapped in the superdome, for example. or of those who were evacuated from somewhere else to the far corners of the country. who are living in shelters. who are living communally and dependent on the generosity of others for their basic necessities.

their journeys are clearly marked by their color and their class.

i am so grateful and proud to live in a community that has been so generous in helping the people who have been displaced by hurricane katrina and the damages in her wake. i would be remiss, however, not to notice who has been hit the hardest, not to question why.

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