My emotional intelligence is leaking.

It was still early in my day, 7 am or so when I stumbled across, my friend, Chris's post urging me to read the content of the link he provided. I met Chani Simms. What a moving presentation. The way she talks about war... I suddenly remembered the ah-ha moment in my own life. I was so lucky it wasn't nearly as catastrophic. 

 My very first experience with disaster was 2005, New Orleans- hurricane Katrina. I had evacuated to Memphis, as hundreds of thousands did. Interstate 55 flowed in one direction for days- north. Under normal conditions- that trip would have only taken 6 hours. From start to finish, 15 hours later I made it to my brother’s apartment.  

I can’t remember exactly how long I had stayed but I do clearly remember the news coverage. On August 29th, there were more than 50 levee and floodwall failures. I guess they hadn’t updated the infrastructure for some time. It’s uncanny how many parallels can be drawn in that statement alone.  

You have to understand something about people in New Orleans- they are never afraid. They’d seen worse storms they would stare this one in the face too. So many people stayed behind. Many out of lack of panic- more because of tax brackets and the plain inability to evacuate. It’s hard to leave with your whole family, through the swamp, on foot, no money and nowhere to go. 

I waited to return; I remember making that decision. On the way back the damage was inconceivable.  Great pine forests showing every degree of wind gust they had suffered. About an hour from the state line between Mississippi and Louisiana civilization was operating by candlelight. Gas stations had lines that extended miles. Not blocks, miles.  

When I reached the city, it was in lockdown. No way in or out. Huge blockades of National Guard, state and local police, etc. obviously there to protect against looters and citizens that would inevitably get into dangerous situations trying to check on their homes and businesses. Inside the city, we later learned, there was a nightmare unfolding. Thanks to helicopters carrying reporters and cameras we had a very clear picture. People trapped, in the dark, the dome, and the dead.  

The city sat 80% breached by water for a little over two weeks. It’s something New Orleanians can never forget. The pumps they trusted failed. The walls were taken for granted. 

 Good people lined up to help, brought buses to take people out. They were school bus drivers, church bus drivers, folks with trucks, whatever they had to transport people. Often, they were loaded with medical professionals, water, blankets, etc.- but they were turned away at every blockade and even threatened. Sometimes, at gunpoint, they were forced to turn around and go back from wince they came.  

Some country boys that grew up knowing the labyrinths of bayous took matters into their own hands. These were their people, neighbors, family, strangers- and they needed help. One such boat rescued 400 people in 14 days. It rested in front of the Louisiana State Museum in Jackson Square until just a couple of years ago. 

Looking back, I guess that was my first glimpse into physical hacking. Just some determined, dumb ole Cajuns and their fishing boats bypassing control points. I was so inspired and empowered. Today, we locally know this collection as the "Cajun Navy'. Wherever the water rises, so do they, and in substantial numbers.  

They’re ethical and they aren't turned away anymore. 

If they could be so bold- well damnit, then so could I. I may have been turned away in the past- blocked by rules that didn’t make sense anymore. It’s too big for a woman, too much, stick to what you know, let someone else do it- but I kept on finding my way through all that backwater and I feel like: I'm here- who needs a ride?