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.
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.
posted by Dartmouth in Biloxi at 11:11 PM
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