The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

So much has been happening since my last post. I've been quite busy and too tired by the end of the day to post updates. But right now, my beautiful daughter is taking a much-needed nap, so I'm taking advantage of the free time. I'll try to consolidate as best I can.

Let's start off with The Good news. A couple weeks ago, my aunt informed me that a friend of hers was looking for a housesitter. So I called, we talked, and it looks like I'll be making a little extra money housesitting for 10 days starting this Sunday. Extra money is always good, but that's not THE good news. The good news is that the owner of the (hurricane-damaged) house, Maela, is doing all the repairs HERSELF. AND is open to having me come and help her so that I can learn a thing or two. I went to help one day last week. I removed nails from the wooden stairs; and though it wasn't a major job like putting up a wall or plumbing, it was something I'd never done and now I know what tools I need and how to do it. Skills!! She also showed me how to use the table saw. Skills!! I'm so excited. I'm gonna learn how to make and fix stuff. No more "damsel in distress" every time something breaks.

More Good news - My sister came down from North Carolina this past week to visit. We started cleaning out my mom's house. This is awesome because I haven't physically done anything on her (or my) house since I got here. So that's a start. We cleaned the kitchen together. This was no small task. The kitchen had not been touched since August 29, 2005 (Hurricane Katrina's arrival). There was a layer of dust (containing who knows what... probably mold particles) over everything. Black and brown water stains on the floor. And debris from the small construction projects she had done recently. We cleaned it all up. Shiny and new. My sis and her friend, Shakana, cleaned the bathroom the next day. Then I swept up all the fallen paint chips and other debris in two of the bedrooms. The next step will be pulling up that nasty carpet. Hurricane-damage aside (it didn't get any water-damage anyway), that carpet is 13 years old and needs to be thrown out. So we'll be either installing new carpet or installing ceramic tile. By ourselves. I'll keep you posted.

And now The Bad news - I mentioned in an earlier post that the front door had been stolen off my house. I'd left it unsecured after the Search-and-Rescue teams busted the door in post-Katrina. The house was empty and my air conditioners had already been stolen... so I didn't think there was anything else to take. Last year, they took my front door. Ha ha ha. Architectural theft is rampant down here now. On a block like mine, which has been completely abandoned (save my next door neighbor Eddie who is also a landlord, and periodically comes by to work on his house), it's pretty easy to steal architectural details off people's houses. No one's there to watch. Apparently, people are doing this in broad daylight. And these are not just your every day crackheads looking for something to sell either. Contractors, people posing as contractors, and people posing as Preservation Resource Center officials are doing it too. Well-orchestrated thievery. My door was not hurriedly ripped off the frame. It was carefully unscrewed from the hinges (there's no damage to the frame or hinges at all). As I've been looking around for replacements, I'm discovering that my door was quite unique. I haven't found anything like it yet. Guess that's why they helped themselves to it. Anyway, about a week ago, my neighbor Eddie informed me that someone stole the copper pipes from underneath his house... and that mine were gone too. So my pipes are gone, conveniently replaced by my suspicion about my neighbor's hand in it. Sucks. Not only is copper expensive these days, but I also have the added expense of fencing off the crawlspace underneath my house so that this doesn't happen again. I've heard they're stealing electric wires now for the copper inside. I just had the place re-wired (Well, almost... that is another bit of bad news. But I won't get into it. Let's just say that the electricians down here are running a racket and they finish whenever they feel like it), so I have to do that soon.

Now for The Ugly. It is literally ugly. I wish I'd taken a photo, but I didn't think of it at the time. I recently discovered mold growth BEHIND my walls. Pre-Katrina, I thought that my walls were plaster. The fact that there was no visible mold growth after the hurricane validated this theory for me. However, as my mother and I were assessing the damage in my house last week, we noticed a crack in the wall under a window. A small piece of the wall was loose and when I pulled it back, I saw it plain as day - mold. The mold and I greeted each other, as dignified enemies do when waging war. Its days are numbered. So, this is ugly for me because the silver lining on my dark hurricane cloud had been "at least I didn't get any mold." I was one of the lucky ones. Now I have to gut the house (at least four feet from the floor) to get rid of the mold. For those unfamiliar with the term "gut" in relation to construction (or de-construction), basically I have to remove all the sheetrock and whatever is behind it down to the framing of the house. It's not as fun as it sounds. But I can (and will) do it. Maela offered to help when she gets back from her vacation. So, I'm grateful that The Bad and The Ugly come with The Good, otherwise I might regret the day I set foot back on the soil of this charming (and charmed) city.

That's all for now, guys. Sorry no pics, Gary. I had "before-and-after" shots of my mom's kitchen, but it's not much of a visible difference so I decided not to post them. I guess you'll just have to READ. Better to do that sober.

Road Home Says No

Yesterday, I attended an application workshop for the Road Home Small Rental Properties Program in hopes that I might get some state money to assist in fixing up my house. The program awards forgivable loans to owners of 1-4 unit properties in hurricane-damaged areas, provided they rent their units for affordable prices. Deal. I wasn't going to charge a lot anyway. There are LOTS of landlords in New Orleans now who are taking advantage of the housing shortage by hiking up rent. I don't need to do that.

Anyway, I figured that, unlike the Historic Grant, I might actually have a good chance of getting this money. My house is one unit and it is definitely in a hurricane damaged area. It's also in a historic district that has been on the city's "revitalization" list for a while. I figured there was no reason I SHOULDN'T get this money. The State of Louisiana disagreed, however. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the first two lines on the second page of the application -

If the answer to the following question is NO, you are not eligible for the Small Rental Property Program:

Were you a Louisiana resident at the date of Hurricane Katrina or Rita?

Ouch.

Can I get ANY assistance? I couldn't get any FEMA money because the property wasn't my primary residence and no one was living there at the time of the storm. I couldn't get any insurance money for flood damage because I did not have flood insurance. I didn't get flood insurance because it NEVER floods in that area. That neighborhood didn't even flood when Hurricane Betsy (the worst hurricane to hit New Orleans before Katrina) hit in 1965. A month after I bought the property, the entire city flooded, however. I'm not eligible for any Road Home Homeowner's money because it wasn't my primary residence. And now I'm not eligible for the Small Rental Property money because I wasn't a resident at the time of the storm. Will they consider the fact that I was born and raised here... and that I quit my job and moved down here in order to work on my house? Can I get SOMETHING?

Anyway, I put my emotions aside and did not let this painful news get me down. There were advisors at the application workshop whose job it was to answer any questions we might have. I waited in line to speak to one of these fine people. I asked my question and was surprised that even she seemed puzzled. She explained to me that the rules for these programs are changing constantly and that the rule-makers may not have considered applicants in my position. She advised me to apply anyway and talk to my local representative. More work. But is that not what I am here to do? Yes, it is. So I'm up for it. I will speak to local representative. I hope that these rules change.

Beauty Amidst The Destruction

Yesterday, my father and I went looking for a comrade of his in Hollygrove, a neighborhood in Uptown New Orleans. (He hadn't seen her since the storm, but heard that she was back in New Orleans.) Half the residents in trailers, half in damaged homes. Abandoned houses, abandoned cars. No one using the sidewalks, since they were covered in debris or standing water. People out on the street, walking, fixing cars, sitting on their porches, talking with neighbors. People making due. Still living. This is what people do.

Amidst all of this, I found this thing of beauty. A rusted shell of a car propped on its side on the side of the road.

Touchdown

Wow. I just moved to New Orleans. I’m not sure how I feel just yet… and people keep asking me. Really, it feels like I’m just visiting. Ask me in a month.

We missed yesterday’s flight and ended up flying down early this morning. I was so exhausted, I wanted to cry. Once we got to our new home (aka my Mom's apartment in Treme), I SLEPT… for like 5 hours. The good thing about moving in with your mother is that she WANTS to hang out with your child. And, thus, you get to sleep. (Thanks, Ma. I needed that.)

I think I am happy to be here though. I’m anxious to start working. No, I’m not getting a job. I mean REALLY working. Taking my future into my own hands and making things happen. I started a TO DO list today. So beginning Monday, I’ll be visiting places like Preservation Resource Center, Global Green, and Common Ground. I know I need LOTS of help restoring my house, so I want to explore these potential resources immediately. My mom is thrilled that I’m here… happy for my energy and drive. I’ll be helping her with her house too.

Well, I just wanted to post a short update. I’m still tired. That’s my punishment for having so much STUFF to move. Even though I’ve gotten rid of A LOT of my belongings over the past year, somehow I still have too much. And packing it all just wore me out. So I’m headed to bed. Goodnight.

The Damage

A lot of people have been asking me how much my house was actually damaged. Here are some pics of my house taken in Oct/Nov 2005. Not much has changed since then, except that I had the roof replaced and the wiring redone.


The front of the house. Since this photo was taken, the front door (not the iron security door, but the custom-milled wooden door) has been stolen. Thieves have been stealing architectural details off people's houses since the storm hit and neighborhoods were left abandoned.



My house got at least 3-4 feet of flooding. The water tipped over the fridge in the kitchen. This appliance has since been removed from the house. Also, part of the ceiling fell in, as you can see.



Here's the gaping hole in the kitchen ceiling.



The floors were damaged a little, but I think they're salvageable. I just have to refinish them. They were painted before I bought the house, so that's part of the reason for the awful coloring.



This is the shed behind the house. The garage door was ripped off. There's lots of debris inside that still needs to be cleared out and I think it needs a new roof. I could use it as a garage, a washroom or maybe a studio of some sort. The previous owners put their music studio back there.



Hello, gross bathtub. I probably would've replaced you anyway. Why are you pink?

A Milestone

Friday was my last day at work. A HUGE milestone for me. I've spent the past seven years of my life at that place. SEVEN long years of routine (9am to 6pm every day, except holidays, vacation and sick days). Seven years, three movies (and one in production), some good friends and tons of experience. I started out pretty much as a kid there, nearly fresh out of college. After a nightmare experience as a PA at Nick Digital, I was OVERJOYED to land a PA position at Blue Sky. But, then again, I would've done anything to get my foot in the door. I was hungry and that was my dream - to create computer animated films. Now seven years later, I feel that I've fulfilled that dream.

And I'm a different person. As driven as I was back then, I certainly feel more focused and wise today. Becoming a parent certainly accelerated that growth. Even though I'm not sure where I'm headed, I am more clear about what this life is about for me. I'm also calmer. The fiery spirit I had around political, racial, economic and environmental issues has been replaced with a more sensible (and authentic) desire to affect change in whatever way I can. I went through Doing and almost burning out, to just Being and now I'm at Doing through Being. And if that doesn't make any sense, check out Landmark Education. But, in essence, it just means that I am more sure about who I am and that what I do comes out of that... instead of defining who I am BY what I do. I just feel more like a grown-up.

I never thought that I might feel sadness about leaving work. In fact, I was thrilled when we were laid off in 2001 after Ice Age. I still refer to that time period as the best six months of my life. I was able to focus on all my outside projects. I traveled; I curated a provocative art show; I trained capoeira. But as my life became more about what happened at work than what happened outside of work, my attachments to the job and co-workers grew. And after I had my daughter (and accepted that I could not be a stay-at-home mom), the workplace became a bit of a respite in a way, a place where I could interact with grown-ups and be free of the immense responsibility of parenting. Something scary happened; I began looking forward to the routine of it. Before, I thought that true friendship was inherently inauthentic through the forced social setting of the office and I was also filled with insecurity and mistrust around being one of the few black people in a majority white company, but then I started really getting to know some people. I made some good friends. I'd always been afraid in a way to put my all into my job (because a company certainly doesn't give its all to the employee and I felt that my personal life was far more important), but then I started focusing more on improving my skills and even the environment at work. My job became a significant part of my life... and I wasn't horrified by that. And although that's one of the reasons I knew it was time to go, I will truly miss The Office and the familiar faces in it.

A large group of those familiar faces threw me a surprise party on Friday. Who knew... who knew that so many people cared. I guess I grew on them the same way they grew on me. And, even though it doesn't feel like it yet, I guess what I'm doing is really big and inspirational to some people. My co-workers pooled together their money to give me the best going away presents ever. So specific, so thoughtful. Books on New Orleans architecture and design; gift certificates to Home Depot and Target; a Tickle-Me-Elmo doll for my daughter; an IPOD!! I could not believe it. I had a clue that something was going to happen, but I had no idea it would be this big and involve so many people. I was stunned, speechless. I'd actually semi-prepared a speech to give to my department (because I thought it would just be a small thing among us), but I completely forgot every word of it when I walked into the conference room and saw 100+ faces staring at me. I stammered a few words... I'm not sure exactly what I said (I think KP has it all on video though!). I was overwhelmed, but I hope they all know how much that meant to me. I was really moved.

And then, after work, there was a gathering at a local bar. Another co-worker (our daughters are best friends) offered to babysit my daughter while I drank myself into oblivion. Just kidding. I only had two drinks (thanks Alena and KP!), stayed for about an hour and a half, hugged everybody, chatted, then hugged everybody again. What a nice way to say goodbye.

These days, goodbye isn't as final as it used to be, since there are SO many ways to keep in touch. But there is something special about being in the physical presence of another person, even if it's just to smile or say "Hi" as we pass each other in the hall. I will miss my co-workers. Thanks for seven years.

In Earnest...

Here are some post-Katrina photos of the Lower 9th Ward, taken in November 2005 (3 months after the hurricanes hit). Some colleagues and I put together a photography exhibition called "In Earnest: Moments, Places, Events and Faces" in our office gallery. The opening was February 8, 2007 and this was my contribution:



My aunt in front of the house where she raised her 5 children.



Homeowners who are determined to stay in New Orleans inspire me.



I called this one "Katrina, Play Nice"... this whole scene is reminiscent of a child's room after a tantrum.



The Lower 9th Ward LEVELED...