Five years ago we Gulf Coast residents watched a circular spot grow larger by the day, held our breath watching its path, readied our houses and ourselves to the extent that past experience had prepared us, evaluated our options, and planned our course of action as the threat came closer, unable to forsee the magnitude of the disaster to come, and in the case of the New Orelans area, some of the reasons for it. Now we watch as the large black spot gets larger on the map, the oil sheen spreads on the top of the water, the black clumps appear on the marshes, and another devastating, “never been anything like it before” event unfolds.
Like five years ago we realize the domino effect of the devastation. Not only were people killed in or displaced from their homes in the flooding, but those houses once needed postmen to deliver mail, grocery stores to provide food, doctors, schools, and so on, all of whom were affected by the loss of each area. Similarly, not only did eleven men die, countless fishermen and people working the Gulf lose their jobs, and damage or destruction of wetlands and animal life begin, but people across the nation who drink coffee, eat shrimp, like fruit, plan to buy a new set of tires, or export grain, and those who supply these items, could also feel the effects of this oil incident.
Some things have changed in five years. There have been a lot more more disasters worldwide and people have become much more proactive, much more connected, and have heightened their expectations. Volunteers line up to help with booms, debris, and wildlife. Fishermen, who are prevented from doing what generations of their familes have done, quickly sign up to help because they desparately want the solution and so that they may have some income. Networks of interested groups communicate with their constituents to mobilize needed support, pressure, and action for a quick response at all levels.
We’ve also learned to stay informed, and to distinguish facts from the damaging misconceptions and generalizations surrounding the event, so we don’t compound the effects of the catasrophe.
Louisiana needs people to know that 75% of its coastline is not affected, so it is safe to support the seafood, recreational fishing and hunting, tourism, and other normal activities available there. Similarly, the New Orleans area remains as active as before this spill, wanting to share and continue its progress. As the spill approaches other parts of the Coast, other states will ask for similar discernment. If the Florida Keyes or Miami are affected, it will be important that tourists continue to visit Orlando or other unaffected areas. People outside the affected areas must avoid adding to the oil damage by penalizing whole states economically, and thus defeating the state’s ability to help itself and creating more national burdens.
In Why People Live in New Orleans, I discussed some of the tough choices locals and global citizens have, particularly related to Louisiana and the Gulf Coast region. This catastrophe recalls those and focuses specifically on choices regarding off-shore drilling and our dependence on oil. I respect President Obama and Senator Landrieu, but I disagree with their persistent championing of more offshore drilling despite this evidence of the mass destruction that can occur with just one incident. We are even having to destroy the oil that we originally sought with this well. When will we as a nation and world find a cure for our addiction to oil?
One could argue that we didn’t know this would happen, just as we didn’t forsee that we would trade off southeast Louisana when we cut up the land with canals for oil pipelines and shipping channels, creating more erosion and salt water intrusion, or when we built levees along the Mississippi preventing it from continuing to restore the land by carrying silt as it did when it created the delta. We didn’t know those things then, but we do now. There are a lot of jobs and revenue tied up in oil and gas in Louisiana, but the amount of energy we’re using to produce the oil and gas is offsetting the resources we gain. More importantly, the jobs won’t be there anyway if the land disappears from silt starvation, erosion, or incidents such as this oil spill.
400 species who depend on the wetlands and Gulf resources are endangered by this spill. Why People Live in New Orleans documented how the wetlands protect us from hurricanes. What will hurricanes do after oil coats Louisana wetlands, and Florida’s mangrove forests, seagrass beds, and coral reefs? As we watch this oil drama unfold, it would be in our interest to consider these tough choices. What are we willing to risk for ourselves and our children?
We Orleanians have long been enthusiastic to receive visitors to our home town and, like any good host, have endeavored to make sure they enjoy their stay. That’s why, like the lei, we often offer beads to new arrivals to welcome them, as we did these Canadian Volunteers, the Mission Team from St. Albert Catholic High School who recently volunteered a week of their time to help our residents.
Knowing that it takes both visitor and host for a successful stay, we’re optimistic when we see visitors openly wearing Mardi Gras beads, like Tim Onasch and Rich Becker from The Potomac River Jazz Club who attended this year’s French Quarter Fest. They told me they come every year for the festival and that putting on the beads is a way of starting the fun.
At the 2011 Sugar Bowl Game, over both Arkansas and Ohio jerseys, the beads around fans’ necks as they walked the streets and cheered in the Superdome made a similar statement. They declared their intent to enjoy the setting in which their favorite teams competed, win or lose. Would men and women walk around wearing bright, inexpensive beads in their home towns? It doesn’t matter. What a sweet compliment their beads conveyed: “We accept your hospitality and we’ll match your enthusiasm for this place with ours.”
