Dartmouth in Biloxi

Dartmouth in Biloxi

Adventures in Dixieland Part II*
My First Visit to Taco Bell

Hey Y’all!

Somebody at dinner last night told me I had developed a “southern twang.” I could not be prouder.

Most workers here take Sunday off. I decided to continue Dan Killeen’s tradition of making a Sunday trash crew. Unfortunately, everybody who committed to cleaning up East Biloxi with me found a ride to a New Orleans. So while they piled 12 people into two cars to go explore Bourbon Street and the Lower Ninth Ward, I donned my latex gloves and started to pick up cigarette butts. I worked on Pass Rd. (where Hands On is located) instead of East Biloxi because my ride joined the crew on their way to New Orleans.

Picking up trash by oneself is not fun. I entertained myself by making up life stories of the person who decided the sidewalk was an appropriate trash can for her pregnancy test or the man who lost his socks somewhere along the way. But boredom soon forced me to decrease my goal of reaching Wall-Mart. I grew frustrated with all the people driving by and honking: if they were honking appreciation, I wanted to yell at them to get out of their cars and come help; if they were honking at the (good-looking) girl on the side of the road, I wanted to yell at them.

Then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Remember? Friday? Me llamo Alfonso. Cual es tu nombre?” This is not as entirely sketchy as it seems. “Friday” does not refer to a magical night that I spent with Alfonso, but an ESL discussion class that I attended with a few other Hands On volunteers. (Disclaimer: Everything from here on out was said in broken Spanglish and could all be a complete lie. As most of you know, me + Spanish = big mistake.) Alfonso asked me how far I planned to go; I lied and said Wall-Mart. He showed me his Wall-Mart bag and pulled out two pairs of work gloves. He said he saw me earlier and wanted to come back and help. I spent the next hour speaking Spanish, listening to Alfonso’s English responses, and stuffing deteriorating Popeye’s containers into our third trash bag.

When we reached Wall-Mart, Alfonso insisted “We go to Taco Bell.” Taco Bell disgusts me. For more reasons than the breakout of E Coli that it was responsible for earlier this year. “Ah pero no tengo dinero.” “I pay! I pay!” And so, to be polite to the man that already bought me gloves (did I mention they were pink?) and spent two hours picking up trash with me, I abandoned my morals and went to Taco Bell. For the record, it actually wasn’t that bad.

*With creativity credit given to Miss Elizabeth Alabama Mills.

-Elizabeth Mitchell '10

concluding thoughts

We’re driving down to New Orleans this morning so that we can get the opportunity to check out the conditions of the city as most of us haven’t ever been down there. Even better, we’re spending the night at Hands On New Orleans and there’s even a group of Dartmouth kids working at that base so that will hopefully provide an interesting basis for dialogue and for comparison of how things get done in different relief and community rebuilding groups.

I’m so sad about leaving (yeah, I’m really eloquent, can’t you tell). The biggest internal uneasiness I’m feeling right now is the sense of having learned and gained so much down here yet not enough at the same time. I think many in our group share that sentiment—this seemed to be exemplified in our meeting yesterday with Carrie ’04, Falcon, Mr. Dan, and Ellie. The meeting was a discussion on how we as college students can take our experience down here back to Dartmouth. The predicament most of us seemed to feel was that while all of us agreed that we have learned soooooo much just by witnessing and helping with the community-rebuilding processes in Biloxi and by having conversations and making interpersonal connections (not just with local residents, but also with other volunteers), it’s still incredibly hard to synthesize what we’ve learned and to create a “call to action”, so to speak, with specific concrete steps that we can do while at Dartmouth to both 1) help rebuild the community in Biloxi (better) and 2) to make even longer-termed changes towards the creation of a society of true equal opportunity and justice. See, all of that sounds really abstract, right? Many of us thought so too, and we have only inchoate ideas on how we can even start reaching these goals. All that said (and I’m not usually known as the optimist in my circle of friends) I’m really hopeful about this experience as being the impetus of something much larger in each of our lives. I am excited about keeping the line of communication going with Falcon and Carrie, etc., so that they can guide us in using our experiences and new knowledge in productive and pretty powerful ways at Dartmouth.

All in all, the stories and experiences I got to exchange and share with local residents and other volunteers, the time I spent with the most precious kids at the local Boys and Girls Club and Pass Road Elementary, the incredible fun I had from doing simple things with others at base (making meals, Christmas caroling, doing mold dances and cheers, harassing Helicopter [my personal project]) after a hard day’s at work, were more than priceless. I look forward to future service and learning opportunities that will match, if not surpass, the one we’ve just had. It'll be so kick-ass to return down here.

I would like to close my thoughts by saying that I went down to Biloxi with such incredible peers. I think many of you underestimate your own thoughtfulness and kind spirit. During this trip, I got to know other Dartmouth kids of various socioeconomic, cultural, religious, and political backgrounds yet I sensed the same desire for affecting change. And yes, things got hard at times, and the group dynamics sucked in a few occasions, but such is the nature of putting together a bunch of very opinionated and very willing, smart people (self call! not, lol). Anyways, I’m glad I got to know you all at least a little. Hopefully we can work on some future projects together. And I hope (I'm sure) you guys feel as encouraged as I am from these past two weeks. K, that is all for now. Peace. Huzzah.

~May-Lieng ‘09

Live Oaks

It's past midnight, and I've just come back from the beach, where a group of us volunteers were sitting around exchanging stories about our lives and how Hands On and Biloxi fit into everything. Aided every once in awhile by the bright lights of a hotel or casino, an eerie string of streetlights reached desperately out to light US-90 into the thickening mist. Most coastal structures are still crumpled and dark. The newly built Holiday Inn radiates its neon "Happy Holidays" marquee just across the street from the sparse skeleton of an old souvenir shop, Sharkland.

For me the most compelling sight is the trees. The majestic live oaks stripped of their leafy fullness by rushing wind and water then left to slowly regrow their ancient branches. Unlike all the man-made structures that have come and gone along this coast, the trees have been here forever competing yet coexisting with the weather, and they will flourish and be battered again as cycles of storms come and go long after I leave this place.

Today, most of the Dartmouth group went to church at the Main Street Missionary Baptist Church, where we enjoyed amazing gospel singing, and a rousing sermon by the Rev. Hayes. He spoke about the Virgin Mary and following God's plan, and seemed to direct his words at us a bit more than was comfortable, but in all the congregation was overwhelmingly warm and inviting to us. They wanted us to share a song with them, and we conceded by singing the alma mater. How embarrassing to have us standing and weakly singing a preppy college song in front of a congregation with more musical talent and rhythm than all of us put together!

I'm very lucky to have had the opportunity to see Biloxi at two very different stages of recovery from Katrina. Last December, the area was still very much a disaster zone, struggling to keep order and provide necessities. There was very little life on the streets, particularly at night. Most stores were closed, and the city was ghostly. A year later, there is a faint but palpable sense of life reborn in Biloxi. It is certainly not a normal city again, but many citizens have settled back in to make new lives for themselves and their families, and the occasional string of Christmas lights reminds the outside world that someone is back in their home.

I can't help but think again of those trees. The live oaks along the coast are particularly beautiful and interesting because of their twisting, convoluted branches. They grow in response to wind and weather, bending to accommodate their surroundings. The bark will envelop and eventually grow around a foreign object, like a chain or brick or wall. Strong and determined things, these slowly growing giants. They have learned, as Biloxi and many towns before it have learned, that handling disaster is to grow with it, incorporate it into one's being, and become all the stronger and more beautiful for the hardship.

-Sarah Overton '07

The past few days: A Christmas Carol, lots of paint and potential future volunteer efforts...

Of course it sounds cliche, but I can't believe the trip's coming to an end. We have two days left here and then fly out of New Orleans to return to hometowns across the US, to celebrate the holidays in a much more holiday-like environment for all of us. I mean most of us have at least a little bit of a disconnect between warm weather and the holiday season (minus Overton maybe) but it's not just the weather that throws off the 'holiday' feeling down here. The only places that are decorated for the holidays it seems are the casinos which have taken over so much of the coast that was lost to the hurricane, and have been immediately rebuilt. The Beau Rivage talked about two entries down was built up as fast as possible it seems and opened on the 1 year anniversary of the hurricane. It's great as far as the jobs that it provides, but is such an odd thing to be in the middle of such desolate surroundings. Especially right on the shoreline where there are still smaller chain hotels that have not made any progress in rebuilding.
Yesterday, I spent the entire day painting at Mr. George's house. This house is really special to a couple of long term volunteers because they have been working on it from the ground up and now it's at a phase where we are painting the interior walls and putting up siding. Gaby and I spent hours inhaling paint fumes and getting it all over ourselves, but definitely enjoyed it. The only part that might not have been enjoyable was this tiny little closet that was probably 2 by 1.5 feet and needed to be primed all the way up to the ceiling, and part way up it became an enclosed box. Poor Monica got her hair covered in paint because she was the only one tall enough to reach the ceiling in there. But really, it was a great day. A certain Luc down here is consistently hilarious, and being the leader of our team, made everything laughable. I guess Mr. George asked him to put up an American flag in the front of the house and Luc assembled it and then ran down his street with the flag while I almost fell over laughing.
Backtracking a little, on Friday, Dan, Eli and I went to the production of A Christmas Carol that was put on at the Biloxi Little Theater with the help of 6 or 7 Hands On volunteers. While the older kids in the play did a great job, probably the best part was the 5 and 6 year olds who tried so hard but just kept us laughing the entire time. There was one little boy who probably evoked the most laughter. He kept waving at the crowd and sang very loudly during all the carols and completely tone deaf. The kids sang pretty well too, and I remember Silent Night particularly, hearing his absolutely and completely off key little boy voice coming out of the chorus. Then occasionally he would jump up and down in excitement and pull out his dance moves at interesting times. What a riot. It was a great production and afterward the high schooler who played Bob Cratchitt came up to us and asked if we were with Hands On, then wanted to shake every one of our hands and thank us for everything we were doing. We've been thanked by so many people, but each person who individually takes the time to say something touches my heart again and again, and that is definitely something I'll take back with me.
Thursday a few of us went to the Mississippi Center for Justice to talk with some pro bono lawyers who are managing so many cases right now, probably a majority of them related to FEMA reimbursements that are nowhere near adequate. We had a half hour appointment with one man, were 15 min late, ended up waiting an hour and then talking with not one but three lawyers for just about two hours. I think they could really see how we wanted to keep up and possibly change the some of kind of volunteer work that is going on down here. As many people will keep doing construction work, it is important to consider the other traumatic impacts of the hurricane. Psychiatry/psychology is apparently the number one health need here right now. I'm trying to figure out how to bring my dad-a psychiatrist-in the spring; how we could make an impact in ways other than gutting, molding, framing, drywalling, siding and painting houses. We'll see how that works and I definitely plan to be back here come spring break.

Elysa Severinghaus '09

Kilz, a holiday party, some cute children, and a trip to the other side

So I've spent this trip a bit differently than I did last year...much more physical work and much less personal interaction. This wasn't intentional, I don't think, though it's probably emotionally easier to be down here if you're just working with paint and hammers instead of hearing horror stories of the storm; this is corroborated by many conversations with long-term Hands On volunteers on the verge of burnout. Sometimes emotional distance is the only way to survive and sustain an intense experience like this one. See my play for more on that subject...
In any case, I've done a bunch of different things, but overall have spent about 4 full days doing mold removal work. There are several steps to the process of transforming a house from flood-damaged, molding wood to a frame that can then be renovated and drywalled: scrub mold off the wood with toothbrushes, painstakingly vacuum the dust collected from that, carefully wipe down all the wood with disinfectant, and then paint it with Kilz, a latex paint that kills (surprise!) and seals in the mold spores. Not tedious at all, right? But surprisingly, I had a lot of fun. It was satisfying to know that we were part of an important step in the rebuilding process, plus, we had a radio station full of endless pop songs to keep us occupied (and sometimes annoyed). And yes, there was dancing too (mostly to scare away the mold). Some might deem the goofing off part of mold crew a waste of time, but there's no way anyone would spend 6 hours on their knees with a toothbrush to rotting wood unless there was some joy involved. I think an important thing to recognize about Hands On now, and the relief effort in general down here, is that it has to be sustainable. Last year there was a real sense of chaos and panic: this has to be done now, this cannot wait, we have to keep up the intensity to get this place back on its feet. But now that Biloxi does have at least something to stand on, we have to realize that things will move at a slower pace towards recovery. Hands On's mission is changing now too...they're trying to move towards a model of consistent rebuilding rather than temporary relief. Which is a tough transition, but a totally necessary one. I feel like the mold fun is part of that, of finding ways to make this work, this life, doable day after day after day. And plus, I got a sweet bracelet out of it that says FIGHT MOLD! Woohoo!
In other news...Hands On had an awesome holiday party on Wednesday night...we invited Bay St. Louis volunteers to come, everyone dressed up, there was tasty food (including potato latkes) and Dan and I decorated our brains out. Walmart supplied us with many ridiculous items, including a light up Santa sleigh and a Superman pinata, and we even made Christmas-colored rice krispie treats. So awesome. The longterm volunteers had set up a secret santa exchange before we arrived, so we did our own Dartmouth version, which turned out SO WELL. My mom was involved too (oh yeah, she's been here all week with us!), and everyone worked so hard to make these amazing presents for each other...the rule being you weren't allowed to spend any money.
Afterwards a group of us headed to the Beau Rivage, one of the many casinos on the Biloxi coast, and therefore both a blessing and a curse for the community. In some ways the casino industry is a great supplier of jobs, of income generated by tourism, etc...but in other ways it takes over the community in a really negative way, trying to buy land from lower-income homeowners in order to develop its empire. You'll also note, driving through Biloxi, that the roads leading to the casinos are lined with pawn shops. Not a good sign. In any case...the Beau has been completely restored since Katrina. Though the rest of East Biloxi, and even most of highway 90, remains a mess of debris and broken homes, the casinos are back in action and bigger than ever, lit in neon and gaudily decked out for Christmas. We walked in to this enormous lobby and I wanted to throw up. I was covered in Kilz from the painting/mold-fighting adventures of the day, all I had seen driving around Biloxi were the recovering ruins, and here in the midst of it was a high-rise hotel complex with designer carpeting. What world had I walked into? In the bathroom, two girls overheard: "I'm sooooo glad we came to Biloxi, the boys here are soooo cute!" "I know, and the party is just starting!" I looked at myself in the mirror, face splattered with mold paint, hands chafed from sanding floors, and felt an enormous disconnect. This feeling was amplified a few days later when I followed a friend to the Mississippi Center for Justice and we spent over two hours talking with some pro bono lawyers about the income discrepancies in Biloxi, especially when it comes to affordable housing. There is so much more to learn about this place- I'm overwhelmed...and a little exhilarated that I can be part of creating real change here, in whatever way that might manifest itself.
One manifestation of change is art. I haven't said much about the musical version of A CHRISTMAS CAROL, the play I've been helping out with down here at the Biloxi Little Theater. We did a production last year that starred yours truly and some other Hands On/Dartmouth volunteers as Scrooge and company...but this year it's all kinds of little (and big) kiddos from Biloxi elementary and high schools. It's so freaking cute, I can't even explain. I'm semi-stage managing, and Sarah, Nathan, Becky and Janill are doing tech, under the lovely direction of one Elizabeth Falcon (cousin to the famed Jay Starr of last year). Sad to miss dinner every night at base, but it's worth it for the excitement of these children (and the chaos/hilarity that inevitably ensues from their unbridled enthusiasm). Opening night was last night and went relatively smoothly (with excellent ad libbing all around) and tonight was (I thought) even better. Tomorrow's our last show, and I'm going to miss the energy of it. I wish I'd gotten to know the kids better- we were mostly in the booth so it was hard. If I were staying longer...
And I do wish I were staying longer. But this time I'm also ready to go home, in a way I never was last year. I think that's healthy. I think I've accepted that I can't be here right now, in the way Carrie or Falcon or Guillermo is here. My place right now is Dartmouth...and though I can work from there to hold on to these issues, my time to exist in a place like Biloxi has not come yet. I will be back, and back again, and it will be different every time, and I will be different every time...but that's how I'll know we're moving forward.

Miss Jean and the Loaves and Fishes Soup Kitchen

I had the pleasure yesterday of working at Loaves and Fishes, the only soup kitchen in East Biloxi. Loaves and Fishes serves a meal every day from 11:30am to 12:30pm and has resources for homeless and needy residents of Biloxi. When I arrived with two other volunteers at 10 o'clock I was approached by a one Miss Jean. Now Miss Jean was about 5 feet tall(if she was lucky) and about as big around as my thigh. Donned in her stylish bell-bottomed jeans, the 70 year old woman works at Loaves and Fishes daily as a volunteer. Upon meeting Miss Jean, it became clear that she ran the kitchen how she wanted to. Instructed first to assemble small to go bags which contained a sandwich, snack, banana and condiments, I laid out the paper bags and began. Not more than a minute passed before Miss Jean in her endearing way, accosted me and told me I was doing it all wrong. Miss Jean said, " You put the mustard in and then the mayonnaise. Haven't you ever been to McDonald's?! On the burgers, it goes mustard and then mayonnaise." I was not about to step on Miss Jean's well-justified rationale. Finishing up the lunch bags, I moved to the coveted lunch serving line. At the end of the line, "where I belonged" joked Miss Jean, I was charged with dishing out applesauce on the trays. When the lunch line began, things were rolling along fine until Miss Jean scooted over to my end of the line and said, " You serve applesauce away from you,child! Haven't you ever served applesauce before? " We laughed and a few minutes later when I had mastered the art, Miss Jean quipped " He can listen and learn." It was only after a few minutes of conversation that I learned that Miss Jean had been working at Loaves and Fishes for over 20 years...and never missed a day. The morning her husband died a few years ago, she was there. This type of dedication and perseverance was something I have seen in few people. Miss Jean was an inspiration to me. She was not well off herself as she made clear, but " always felt the need to help." A final touch in my parting words with Miss Jean shined light on a lesson we should all strive to understand this holiday and always. When I asked Miss Jean what she wanted for Christmas, she told me "Nothing but good health and life." She then asked me the same and when I told her that I wanted nothing, she said," Well sugar you can't want nothing. You have got to want to be and love to live. The second that want stops, the second you stop truly living."

Daniel "Slaughter" Killeen '09

Library Books, Little Kids and Mass Cooking

This morning I awoke to about 7 alarms between the hours of 5 and 7am. One of the few downsides of community living, no walls. I heard salsa music at 5, a portion of 'SexyBack' about 8 times over at 7, and a whole variety of beeps and buzzers in between.
Anyways, today I took a little break from the manual labor side of things down here and went to Pass Road Elementary School with two other volunteers. When we arrived there, we went to the library to sort books. They got so many donations after the storm and a lot of them still haven't been catalogued or organized so we went to work. I saw lots of books I read in my childhood, from The Boxcar Children to The Berenstain Bears to My Father's Dragon to Bridge to Terabithia. Looking stuff up on the computer and writing numbers on books isn't something to write home about, but I loved observing the classroom dynamics while the kids were in what they call a 'special', periods like library, p.e., or art. First of all the librarian was completely out of a 90s movie and used no method of quieting the children down other than repeatedly saying 'STOP TALKING OR YOU'LL GO TO THE CORNER.' An interesting approach. It did bring back the memory of how my brother used to try to get in time out in kindergarten because then he got to watch the fish swim around their tank instead of listening to the teacher.
Anyways, one of the more amusing things that the library teacher had them do was rewrite "'Twas the night before christmas...". They each added in their own little touches as she kept a thesaurus on hand to give them ideas for certain words. One kid wrote "'Twas the night before Feliz Navidad" and the librarian had no idea what he meant, but after a little explaining on his part she left him to his own creative license.
After library, we went to one-on-one tutoring with 3rd, 4th and 5th graders. Each was working on a letter to a pen pal in Compton, California. The funniest part of the day was probably a certain fourth grade boy named Jessie who was telling his pen pal that he was a rapper. He wrote, verbatim, "I go to talent contests to rap for them, you know what I mean?" He also was going to inform his pen pal that he "gets all the ladies", but I think he ran out of time. He didn't start off on a good note with me as he decided to take his short multiple choice quiz with 'eenie meenie mynie mo' at which point I informed him that was not how he was supposed to take this test, or any test for that matter! (SATs? haha) The day was over pretty quickly but I enjoyed spending the day talking to little kids instead of shouting through a respirator.
I came back to prepare dinner around 3. I cook from time to time, but I have never prepared any meal for 75 people. It's really quite the feat with three people on preparation duty. We made a baked potato and salad bar which ended up being a great success among HandsOn-ers.
Well, I have to get to SpinCycle for another exciting game of Catch Phrase!
Cheers,
Elysa Severinghaus '09

Trees in Pass Christian...

Today, 8 members of our illustrious group had the chance to offer our help to the citizens of Pass Christian, MS, a town about 40 minutes west of Biloxi. Pass Christian was one of the hardest hit towns as a result of Katrina and Rita. Going down Route 90 which follows the coast, the remnants of numerous antebellum mansions were apparent as well as the few grand homes that have been rebuilt. I asked a citizen today how many people there were in Pass Christian. He said before the storm 5,000 and after only 1-2,000. Many in the upper-middle class neighborhood decided to leave and not come back. The debris and destruction is something that it seems most have gotten used to. Stopping at a unique circular church on the way back from Pass Christian, people were preparing for mass in the church that had no carpeting, plywood instead of windows and numerous other structural issues. Driving daily, citizens and visitors are exposed to and more importantly reminded of the storm that changed their life. In the park in Pass Christian, I walked passed a memorial that named the fallen citizens from the last great storm Camille in 1969. But people came back. And that seems to be the attitude of most. That people will come back. I certainly hope so, as the area is absolutely breathtaking. Waking up every morning to look out on the ocean. Can you beat it. In Pass Christian, we helped citizens to plant upwards of 30 trees along the coast. They are only trees. But I told myself that we were giving life back to a place that needed it more than most.

Tired and inspired,

Daniel P. Killeen '09