The Good

Over the past week I’ve been asked how I was feeling. In truth I’ve been trying to gather my feelings. Being a New Orleans native, this certainly isn’t my first hurricane and won’t be my last.  Hurricane Harvey was a different beast. The first we’ve seen of his kind. On, Saturday August 26th, Hurricane Harvey came rolling onto the Texas shore as a category 4 storm. While there were mandatory evacuations for the coast, none were called for Houston.  Perhaps it was a cautionary decision. Reflecting back to the mandatory evacuations during Hurricane Rita, 6.2 million Houstonians took to the road only to get stranded in their cars for more than 24 hours during the storm.  In an effort to not repeat, calls for evacuations are conservative at best. And with the unnerving uncertainty of weather events, it is never a foolproof plan. Houston is mostly dry now, schools in our district are opening at the end of the week, and my fellow neighbors are showing the world what it looks like when a city comes together. With the worst behind us, the clean up is beginning.

The Bad

As the storm approached, most of us were prepared. The city, on high alert, emptied the shelves of food, water, and batteries. Armed with full gas tanks and endless amounts of snacks, the only thing left to do was wait. And stew. And wait. Friday presented the most beautiful Texas sky. It was almost unfathomable that less than twenty four hours later we’d be wind whipped and wet. And then it began.  If there is a purgatory, I imagine this is what it would be. The rain began and it didn't stop for days.  Hurricane Harvey would go on to drop ninety trillion gallons of water over the next four days. With our waterways pushed to their limits, scheduled “controlled releases” kept everyone on edge.  Neighborhoods that were previously outside of flood plains were instantly turned into rivers. Coupled with pop up tornados, Harvey felt like the extended hallway in horror films - endless. Throughout it all, we were prepared, stocked and calm. Until, that is, the waters began to rise. The water would go on to hold outside of our home for the next thirty hours. It never crossed our threshold. We were blessed. A few miles down the road would give way to a completely different story. The persistent humming of helicopters was the soundtrack of the night, as countless rooftop rescues occurred. Families were taken out with boats as homes and lives were lost.  Ariel views would show the true nature of the power of water. 

The Ugly

Storms reveal a lot. Overall we stayed prayerful and positive throughout the weather event. However, there were moments where patience and peace were tested. News of others taking advantage of people at their most vulnerable was the worst. Even in moments of desperation, thieves will continue to be thieves.  When the city fell dark, some would pose as help knocking on doors, only to rob trusting storm survivors. These despicable individuals would inspire city officials to impose a strict city-wide curfew in an effort to lessen the likelihood of repeat occurrences. In the far, yet clear, distance was social media. Social media can give some people wings. Unfortunately, it is those of vultures and not of swans. The otherwise meek find unbridled strength in their screened voices; questioning everything from evacuation decisions, city infrastructure and whether or not whole regions should even exist, while offering no real help. It is fascinating to me how someone could have zero or severely limited knowledge on a subject, yet speak with such certainty. They exhibited a true commitment with every post to the perpetuation of the downtrodden, while never actually being a resident or visitor for that matter. It was maddening to find truth in the fact that there are a few of us who thrive in the negative and have small audiences of the like-minded to support it. With the exception of self promotion, the majority of their sharing is reduced to mockery or shaming. Small yet mighty, they are void of empathy and empty of compassion. I was amazed and disheartened during my infrequent glimpses. Yet my own empathy wouldn't allow my opinions to rest there. I found myself wondering where in their journey did they get lost? What caused these deficiencies in their hearts? Perhaps a limited world view or simply narrow-mindedness? I don't know. But life in it’s fullness has a way of shaking us from time to time. My hope is that when these few souls find themselves in moments of challenge, they are met with enough love and compassion to lull them into a transformative self awareness. And that they may use the enormous energies expelled in criticism for activism that is profoundly positive and good. Until then, yuck…. 

With all things being cyclical, this brings me back to…

The Good

On Wednesday, mid morning, my anxiety receded with the waters and I finally fell asleep. I awoke with a refreshed sense of purpose. We hadn't received any damages and my mom was safe. But it became painfully clear that those of us with these shared circumstances were on an island with massive devastation surrounding us. Houston is gigantic. The large nature of this city and the scope of rebuilding initially felt daunting. It is just so much to do. The great thing about this gigantic city is that at any given time we may not all be in the same boat. This gives way for an incredible opportunity to demonstrate true citizenship. We saw this almost immediately with the rising of the sun. Houstonians were running to help the minute the roads where clear and it was safe to move.  The calvary came, but not in ways that you may believe. Despite the seemingly endless fixation on government leaders, their well-heeled spouses, disaster relief agencies or the character of religious leaders, it did not come from any of these subjects in the immediate. It came in the form of the everyday man and first responders. It came in the form of cajuns with boats and anxious high schoolers. It came in the form of Houstonians with unwavering and undaunted spirits. Houston is huge and the heart of the people is even bigger. I have been here for a decade and will not pretend to be an expert. In the coming weeks I’ll have the chance to take in and learn more. The one thing I am certain of is the goodness of the people. Shelters that are at capacity have had to turn away volunteers. Simple acts of kindness like the neighbor who stood at the front of our local grocery store giving free hugs are commonplace. There are countless stories of heroism that you will never hear, but that are happening even as you read and ponder this post. The truth is I’ve felt a range of emotions over the past week intensely. But I am firmly in a place of gratefulness. I’ve often questioned why God has chosen to place me here. I’ve often felt out of place here and swallowed by the enormity of the landscape. I believe that through this experience I have gained a portion of my answer. I love my family, my community, my neighbors, my church, my friends and even the kind unfamiliar faces that I get to encounter day to day. And while many of us do not share the same hue, political stance, religious beliefs or socio-economic standings we are one in the recovery of our city. As Houstonians our posture in loving our city has never changed. Now, deeply battle tested, it never will. Onward.