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| They Kill Us; Then They Blame Us for Dying
by Tracie L. Washington and Louis X. Washington
For nearly 18 months I have been imbedded in the public housing debate in New Orleans. I am one of the attorneys serving on the legal team that is representing public housing residents in their struggle to return home. And it is a struggle. Most of my clients' homes were completely unaffected by Katrina's flood and wind damage. Notwithstanding, the Housing Authority of New Orleans (HANO), which is governed by a one-person board, who is ruled by a one dictator federal agency (Alphonso Jackson of Housing and Urban Development) locked out my clients from their homes. For all but 1500 families, this lock-out has been permanent.
I am sometimes demoralized by the post-Katrina civil rights battles being waged in New Orleans. When I am, I turn to my father for guidance and balance. See my dad is the smartest and wisest man I know. I'm biased but he holds a Ph.D. in medical microbiology, he is a voracious reader of everything, and he has the perspective you gain only with age. He's 70.
I spoke with dad about a housing meeting I had just attended, and recent comments by certain NOLA city council members concerning who should be allowed to return to public housing, how many units should be opened, and the benefits of "mixed income" communities. "These opinions seem to be shared by a large portion of the New Orleans community," I told my dad, and lamented the fact that housing advocates aren't getting through with the truth.
This is a two part essay - Part I is my dad's commentary on public housing, and Part II is mine.
Part I - What Part of New Orleans Don't They Get?
I grew up poor in New Orleans. My father died in 1947 at 72 years old, and he had worked 2, often 3 jobs as a laborer all of his life. Black men born in 1875 Louisiana were laborers - not doctors, lawyers, or pharmacist. My mother raised 6 children, and she was a domestic worker. $3 a day and carfare; that's what my mother earned. We lived in a 3 room house on Eagle Street, no hot running water, and an outhouse.
My mother died on March 3, 1955, leaving her 4 youngest children with no parents, and me and my oldest brother out of state in the army. A year later, my Aunt Helen moved the family to the St. Bernard Housing Development. It was like moving from a teepee to a castle. Public housing was our home. My youngest brother joined the Army in 1956. I was discharged from service in August 1957, began college, and I worked a paper route for less than $60.00/month to help support the family.
The enlightened architects of our community state "too many poor people" live in the projects, and "the projects weren't meant for permanent housing" and "'those people' need to work." What don't they get? Like me and Aunt Helen, Black people who lived and live in housing developments work, and work hard. We were just poor. And what does New Orleans offer poor people? Not much. The education system is abysmal and traps these young kids in illiteracy. A "good job" for a high school graduate is in the service industry, with little or no upward mobility, so you live, essentially, in a poverty caste. New teachers - college graduates - make only about $30,000 a year. Even if you put a little money aside to save and buy a house, the insurance premiums make owning a home impossible. Apartment rates have skyrocketed.
So they work us like Hebrew slaves, for just a piece of money, yet they expect you to raise a family, save for a house, and vacate the only affordable housing in the city. Where are ordinary working people supposed to live? The life cycle for this poor, mis-educated and undereducated, underclass remains as it was for my mother & father - to be born in poverty, work hard, tirelessly and long in poverty, then to die of over-work and unfilled aspirations.
Part II - What They Don't Get
My dad was frustrated and angry, but true to form for a scientist, he wanted all the facts to support his assessments. That was my charge. Dad has synopsized what so many of us advocates know and live, that is, the public housing debate is part of a much larger civil rights crisis we are experiencing here in New Orleans - housing, education, economic development. You can't solve any one of these issues in a vacuum.
So here are the facts:
First, we don't educate our people. Louisiana ranks near the bottom of the 50 states in educational quality, effectiveness and dropout rates.
▪ National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) results in Louisiana show only 20% of Louisiana 4th and 8th grade students read at the proficient level.
▪ Since the 2005 takeover of most Orleans Parish public schools, LEAP scores in both math and English have declined, most significantly at the high school level.
▪ 43.7 percent of students scoring unsatisfactory in English Language Assessment and Math on the eighth grade LEAP assessments will likely drop out of high school sometime during the next four years.
▪ In Louisiana, and most acutely in Orleans Parish, 8.26% of students never attempt the rigor of high school; instead, they drop out of the middle school.
▪ The 2000 census data indicate nearly 600,000 adults 25 years of age and older in Louisiana do not have a high school diploma, and 137,000 of the residents have less than a ninth grade education.
▪ According to the Louisiana Department of Education, continuing performance at this level simply steers many Louisiana residents to low wage, unskilled positions and make economic development a difficult challenge for the state.
Second, we don't have an economy that rewards educated people. I'm not sure whether this is a 'chicken-egg' argument, i.e., do we have only service jobs because we don't educate our people, or do we fail to educate our people because we offer only service jobs. The numbers don't lie:
▪ In 2005, 28% of Orleans Parish residents - more than 130,000 people - lived below the poverty level.
▪ According to the Louisiana Department of Labor, the industry groups with the largest number of job vacancies - professional & business services; trade, transportation & utilities; and leisure & hospitality - each had a median Post-Katrina hourly wage of $9.00, $8.00, and $8.00, respectively.
▪ DOL predicts the 4 highest demand jobs for Orleans Parish through 2014 will be 'Cashier at $15k/year, Retail Salesperson at $22k/year, Waiter at $16k/year, and Laborer at $20k/year.
▪ Pay for a New Orleans Public Schools teacher aide: $19,500/year.
Finally, those people we don't educate and offer only minimum wages need a place to live, ergo, the need for deeply affordable housing. Last year as I was driving to a meeting, I saw a woman who looked to be my age, strolling a baby down Fontainebleau Drive and I got out of my car to speak with her. I wanted to know what she earns as a sitter. She told me she makes $8/hour, full-time, five days a week. That's nuts! It's not a living wage in New Orleans. Then I thought (as a mother) "Who the hell pays someone responsible for caring for their baby poverty wages?" I learned subsequently that lots of people in New Orleans do just that. For those who pay subsistence wages, here's the housing picture in New Orleans:
▪ Of the 200,000 homes in Louisiana that suffered major or severe damage from hurricanes Katrina and Rita, 82,000 were rental units.
▪ Only 33,000 storm-damaged rental units are on track for rebuilding under state-administered restoration programs.
▪ In August 2007, 60,000 hurricane-affected households were still living in FEMA trailers.
▪ The Fair Market Rents by unit bedrooms for New Orleans in 2007 is $755 for an efficiency; $836 for a 1-bedroom; $978 for a 2-bedroom; $1256 for a 3-bedroom; and $1298 for a 4-bedroom.
▪ Of the 5,200 New Orleans public housing units occupied before Hurricane Katrina, only 1,600 are now open.
▪ HUD has approved plans to demolish four major housing developments: Lafitte (896 apartments will shrink to 276 low-income public housing apartments), St. Bernard (1436 apartments will shrink to 160 low-income public housing apartments), B.W. Cooper (1550 apartments will shrink to 154 low-income public housing apartments), and CJ Peete (723 apartments will shrink to 154 low-income public housing apartments).
▪ HUD will spend over $762 million to reduce low-income public housing by 82% in a city where 28% of the population falls below the poverty level, and a "good job" in one of New Orleans four growth positions pays on average less than $20,000/year.
All public housing residents (with the exception of people who are elderly or have disabilities) are required to have jobs, be in school or be in a job preparation program. They must then pay 33% of their income as rent for their public housing unit. Lazy? No, just poor and in jobs that don't pay well. How distressing is it that this reprehensible human rights tragedy has not been resolved, and the affliction that killed my grandfather 60 years ago is still pervasive in this city.
What I get, and what we all need to get is that New Orleans cannot rebuild unless everyone is allowed the opportunity to prosper. When you invest in the most marginalized people in a community, you increase the economic stability of the entire community. And providing affordable housing, public housing/ workplace housing - whatever you want to call it - is the actual mechanism that will equitably rebuild a healthy New Orleans. Without this, our great city will die. | | |
| So, I work at Carrabbas now.... (Come eat some food) | | |
| I woke up this morning to a very loud cell phone ringing right next to my head. It's Eli, and I don't feel like answering. I was right in the middle of the most perplexing dream, and of course, he woke me up. I'm not sure where I was, or why I was walking with this bible thumping hag, but I was. I recall the conversation beginning with morality, and ending with this random woman judging me. Why? Because whatever actions of mine were against the word of the Bible. To be totally honest, I have no idea what to think about this dream. And, anymore I have no idea what to think of the possibility of a higher power. When I was too young to make a decision about my faith, I was bribed into believing. I went to church to gain the love and attention of my cold hearted stepmother. Mostly after that I continued to go to church because I was convinced that I fit in with these people. That they liked and accepted me. Which was a nice change of pace from my middle school popularity crisis (mind you, I was only in 6th grade). What else was I to do but go along with it all? Eventually I faded to atheism; it was much easier to believe in nothing than to pretend to believe in something. I was trying to do everything I could to rebel against my stepmother, who had just left my father. Around the time of my freshman year in high school, my cousin took me to a place called Open Bible Fellowship. And, for the first and only time I convinced myself I felt God's presence. So, I re-established my faith and started my long and lonely journey towards Christianity. I went on mission trips, to church camps, revivals; I even went off with a group of extremist Christian nomads. All without ever feeling the hand of God upon me. Nothing.. A friend of mine asked me where I was in my walk the other day. At first I was ashamed, and refused to tell him for fear of judgment. And he, of course exceeded my expectations. All that came from him was badgering, persecution, and judgment. None of which I deserved. I'm done with the argument. Blame it on whatever you feel necessary. Call me naive. Do whatever you feel you need to justify the fact that I don't believe. It doesn't bother me anymore, and it shouldn't bother you either. (I'm not trying for self-pitying. I'm attempting expression, and fearing all opinions) | | |
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