As I’ve tried to process the cruel “The city is safe!” “No it isn’t!” procession of news streaming out of New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, one of my initial reactions was, “Well, build a city under sea level, what do you expect?” Not charitable or humane, of course, but you can’t censor your own thoughts. It didn’t take more than a few seconds, though, to realize that the reaction wasn’t just mean-spirited but foolish: at the moment I had it, I was sitting in my house in the middle of a major earthquake zone. Floods and storms, quakes and fires — we do our best to cocoon ourselves from danger and feel safe, but one way or another, we’re all nature’s pawns.
Americans have always rebuilt in the wake of disaster: The city I live near and work in, San Francisco, has done so more than once. But plainly this is neither an easy nor a quick prospect in the case of Katrina. I’ve never been to New Orleans, though I’ve enjoyed its music enough — and spent enough time in the kitchen attempting to duplicate its recipes — that I always intended to go one day. I hope I’ll still have the chance. More importantly, for the people caught up in this tragedy, I hope for food and shelter, safety and strength. (You probably don’t need them again, but here are a couple of links with information about how you can help.)
And I hope (against hope) that our nation gets its priorities clearer and begins to reverse this decade’s trend of underinvesting in public services and infrastructure to support improvident tax cuts and a misguided, mismanaged war. We’ll come to our senses eventually, right?
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