Refugee Watch-31-Build Back Better

This paper examines issues of race, class and gender in the U.S. government response to Hurricane Katrina. Specifically, I will investigate the role of the Federal Emergency Management Agency and analyze the socio-gender dimensions of three key FEMA activities: evacuation, resettlement, and recovery. The Category Five hurricane hit the Gulf Coast of the United States on August 29, 2005 and devastated large areas of Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisiana. This study will focus on federal disaster relief in New Orleans, a city of 1.3 million that lost 73% of its housing and 80% of its population (Brown 2005). My analysis highlights how issues of social and economic marginalization in New Orleans figure largely in debates about FEMA’s efficacy and accountability. Perceived governmental bias against New Orleans’ poorest citizens has major implications for the city’s physical reconstruction, economic reorganization and cultural renewal. The sources used in this analysis cover a range of discourses regarding FEMA’s response to Hurricane Katrina: FEMA policy statements and briefing papers, U.S. congressional documents, assessments by outside agencies, and selected media reports. My investigation of FEMA’s role likewise draws on eyewitness accounts by local residents, allowing survivors of Hurricane Katrina to speak for themselves.

Central to my analysis is the position of women in New Orleans, who represent the most vulnerable and disadvantaged of the city’s residents. I propose that the multiple disadvantages faced by women of color posed unique challenges for evacuation and displacement and require gender-specific measures for resettlement and recovery. This does not mean, however, that the women of New Orleans perceive themselves as victims. My analysis reveals that African American women are on the forefront of sustainable initiatives for post-Hurricane recovery. Their grassroots efforts identify the differing needs of women and men in post-disaster New Orleans and offer concrete strategies for enhancing women’s immediate participation and long-term advancement. These local initiatives, in conjunction with FEMA’s federally mandated relief programs, offer the most sustainable framework for ‘help to self-help’ action plans. They also present the best possibility for dismantling New Orleans’ pre-hurricane legacy of poverty and discrimination.

Hurricane Katrina dealt a devastating blow to America’s Gulf Coast in the late summer of 2005. The storm also exposed, to Americans and to the world, an unnatural national disaster that was entirely man-made. Hurricane Katrina stands as a metaphor for race and class in the American Deep South. As public health officials announced, ‘being poor in America, and especially being poor and black in a poor southern state, is still hazardous to your health’ (Atkins & Moy 2005). The televised plight of hurricane survivors—poor, sick, elderly, and predominantly black—counteracted the incredulity of some reporters that the mayhem unfolding in New Orleans could happen ‘in America’. After Katrina, it is no longer possible to view the United States as immune, either from catastrophic natural disasters or the crippling human effects of poverty and racism (Segrest 2005).

Feminist scholars are quick to point out that Hurricane Katrina is not only about race and class; it is also about gender. The poorest people in the Gulf Coast are women, notably women of color. This is especially true for the city of New Orleans. African American women in New Orleans are more likely than men to live in poverty, to be primary caregivers in single-parent families, and to work in low-paying jobs. Prior to Katrina, 35% of black women in New Orleans lived below the poverty line. 56% of families were female-headed households. The median annual earnings for African American women were less than $20,000. A recent study of women’s status ranked Louisiana 47th out of 51 states in terms of poverty and 43rd nationwide in health insurance coverage (Williams & Hinz 2005). In short, the Mississippi Delta, and New Orleans in particular, is one of the poorest regions in the United States. It is, as one feminist scholar writes, ‘a ‘third world in the first’ (Segrest 2005).

The Federal Emergency Management Agency was established in 1979 to consolidate a range of organizations involved in U.S. disaster relief and preparedness: the National Weather Service, the Federal Disaster Assistance Administration, and the Federal Insurance Administration, among others. One of the primary reasons for creating FEMA was to closely link preparedness, response and mitigation within one organization (NOW/PBS 2005). FEMA had long been aware that a natural disaster in New Orleans could have a devastating impact on the city’s poorest inhabitants. Much of the city rests on marshland and is 8 feet below sea level. In addition, New Orleans is surrounded to the south, north and east by water. A large system of levees, canals and pumps were constructed beginning in the colonial era to protect New Orleans in the event of major storms. Despite these precautionary measures, hurricanes caused flooding and evacuations throughout the 20th century.

In early 2001, FEMA published a report that predicted a major hurricane in New Orleans. In 2004, FEMA attempted to increase its readiness by conducting a mock hurricane response to ‘Hurricane Pam’. Participants in the 8-day exercise concluded that a category three storm in southeastern Louisiana would displace roughly a million people and destroy up to 600,000 buildings. The assessment also indicated that a direct hurricane landfall on New Orleans could precipitate massive flooding. It warned that thousands of residents could drown and that disease and dehydration could pervade the city as the flood waters would recede (Fischetti 2001; Times-Picayune 2002). On August 28, 2005 the National Weather Service field office in New Orleans issued a bulletin predicting catastrophic damage to New Orleans. Anticipated destruction included half of the city’s houses, most of its office buildings, and massive piles of debris from trees, telephone poles and cars (National Weather Service 2005). Authorities likewise predicted an urgent lack of clean water, making ‘human suffering incredible by modern standards’ (Whittell 2005). A special report by meteorologists warned that standing water and toxic waste could render New Orleans uninhabitable for up to six months (Galle 2005).

News sources unanimously report that ‘Hurricane Katrina was the costliest and one the deadliest hurricanes in the history of the United States’ (Wikipedia 2005). The official death toll from Hurricane Katrina is 1,604, with 2,000 persons still unaccounted for. The total physical damage is estimated at $105 billion. Federal disaster assessments set the area of land affected at 90,000 square miles, approximately the size of the United Kingdom. One of New Orleans’ most vulnerable districts—geographically and economically—is the Lower Ninth Ward. The Lower Ninth is 98% black; 1/3 of its population lives below the poverty line. In 1927 and 1965 hurricanes caused severe flooding in the impoverished district. In both incidents, eyewitnesses recounted how levees were intentionally breached to divert floodwaters from middle- and upper-class neighborhoods. Residents of the Lower Ninth testified before Congress that similar measures were taken during Katrina. The prominent black activist Dyan French Cole, known in New Orleans as ‘Mama D’, provided dramatic testimony of two large explosions soon after Katrina made landfall. Cole’s statements were corroborated by additional residents of the Lower Ninth. Others, including the Army Corps of Engineers and local hurricane specialists, refuted these claims, citing poor construction as the reason for the breaches. (The levees in white communities withstood the storm.) It is indeed possible that, given New Orleans’ history, African American residents are suspicious of official explanations of ‘natural’ disasters. Many in the media went one step further; the stories of Mama D and others were the result of ‘generations of oppression’ that had created a ‘psychology of paranoia’. One thing seems certain: the levee breaches during Hurricane Katrina targeted floodwaters directly at African American communities. The Lower Ninth Ward was almost totally submerged (McKinney 2006).

Within days of Katrina’s landfall, widespread public criticism arose concerning FEMA ‘bungled’ response to New Orleans. Public outcry was fueled by televised images of citizens clinging to rooftops, residents left without food, water or shelter, and corpses floating among the refuse. Condemnations ranged from mismanagement, to a lack of resources and leadership, to charges of racism and classism. Despite these differences of interpretation, one thing seemed clear: ‘Government failed the people of the Gulf Coast’ (McKinney 2006).

It can be said in defense of FEMA that federal policy in the wake of 9/11 severely weakened the agency’s authority, organizational structure, and responsibilities. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS), created by President George Bush in response to 9/11, subsumed FEMA under its broad umbrella. As part of DHS, FEMA was charged with developing a National Response Plan focused on combating terrorism; it was simultaneously stripped of billions of dollars in funding for natural disaster management. Attention and resources were redirected to the ‘war on terror’ and later to the war in Iraq; preparedness for natural disasters no longer took top priority. By 2003, morale at FEMA was at an all-time low and many experienced agency staff resigned. FEMA director Michael Brown warned that FEMA’s lack of autonomy was undercutting preparedness for natural disasters, weakening relationships with key responders, and leading to ‘an ineffective and uncoordinated response’ in the face of a national catastrophe. As Congresswoman Cynthia McKinney later observed, Brown’s pronouncement in September 2003 was nothing short of prophetic (McKinney 2006).

It is likewise important to note that FEMA’s response to Katrina was by no means a total failure. Before Katrina made landfall, regional FEMA personnel called state and local officials to coordinate evacuation plans. On August 27, President Bush declared a state of emergency for Louisiana; FEMA was thereby authorized ‘to identify, mobilize, and provide at its discretion, equipment and resources necessary to alleviate the impacts of the emergency’ (Wikipedia 2005). Logistical supplies were immediately deployed to New Orleans, as well as a mortuary team with refrigerated trucks. With the help of its principle subcontractor the Red Cross, FEMA provided food, water and emergency medical treatment to storm victims. FEMA likewise coordinated the provision of emergency housing, in specially designated shelters, in local hotels, on commercial cruise ships, and in homes throughout Louisiana and neighboring states. Working alongside the Red Cross, the agency assisted in reuniting families and established mental health services to traumatized New Orleans residents (‘FEMA Answers’ 2006; Red Cross 2006).

Yet despite these initial measures, it soon became evident that FEMA was ill-equipped for a hurricane of Katrina’s magnitude. Equally inescapable was the fact that the worst affected by this ‘disaster of disaster relief’ were poor African Americans, notably women and children (Segrest 2005). Studies of gender and disaster show that evacuation measures pose special challenges for women. As primary caregivers, women are the ‘emotional center of gravity’ and must escape emergency situations with ‘infants, children and elders in tow’ (Enarson 2005). This burden was compounded during Katrina due to the rapid onset of the emergency. There was no time to plan, and for female headed households in New Orleans, no men to share responsibilities. One female survivor testified before Congress that she was invited to evacuate, but could not leave her daughters and grandchildren. Her panic intensified as the floodwaters rose because many in her family could not swim. ‘We saw buses, helicopters and FEMA trucks, but no one stopped to help us. We never felt so cut off in all our lives’. Another woman recounted before government officials how she and members of her family attempted to assist five seniors abandoned at a nursing home, but were blocked by police shouting racial slurs and obscenities’ (McKinney 2006).

A major obstacle for residents trying to escape New Orleans was the lack of official transport. Despite adequate warning 56 hours before landfall, FEMA, working in conjunction with Louisiana authorities, had no transportation for the 27% of citizens without vehicles (Quigley 2006). Public transport, including Greyhound and Amtrak, had been disabled in many areas as a precautionary safety measure. And although New Orleans had 364 city buses in its fleet, only 64 were available for evacuation (Azulay 2005). Evacuees were directed to military trucks and then moved on to collection points. For many African Americans, however, further evacuation was delayed for several days under armed guard. One woman testified that she and her family were detained with other black citizens, including the elderly, at a bridge without proper sanitation or medical treatment. She claimed that whites were consistently bused out first, with blacks being left in what she described as a ‘concentration camp’ (McKinney 2006). Photographs taken at the site match the witness’s description of substandard conditions, as well as the absence of whites.

A study of survivors evacuated to shelters provides further evidence of New Orleans’ economic and racial divide. As one British reporter observed, race and class in the city ‘are so closely intertwined that to try to understand either separately is tantamount to misunderstanding both entirely’ (Younge 2005). A joint Harvard-Washington Post survey conducted in September 2005 shows that, of those living in shelters.

o 55% had no car

o 72% had no property insurance

o 52% had no health insurance

o 68% had no savings

o 77% had a high school education or less

o 93% were black

(Harvard/WP Survey 2005)

The sudden displacement of New Orleans’ population proved for FEMA a logistical nightmare. As Hurricane Katrina approached the Gulf Coast, New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin designated the Louisiana Superdome (capacity 26,000) a ‘refuge of last resort’ for those who could not flee the city (Fox News/Associated Press 2005). FEMA, assisted by the National Guard, brought evacuees en masse to the Superdome; other New Orleans residents came on their own, seeking food, water and shelter. Many came expecting emergency transportation elsewhere. By August 31, the population within the Superdome had exceeded 30,000, despite major damage to the facility caused by high winds and flooding. Conditions within the Superdome were described as chaotic, unsanitary, and dangerous—even life-threatening. FEMA responded to the crisis by relocating evacuees to the Astrodome in Houston, Texas. By September 1, the Astrodome was declared full and was forced to close its doors to new arrivals.

The mass relocation of New Orleans’ residents to evacuation facilities posed special risks for women. While displacement during natural disasters is disorienting for both men and women, and can arouse feelings of extreme uncertainty, women face additional pressures as caregivers and as potential victims of physical abuse (Gururaja 2000). The stress of disaster and displacement, combined with lost livelihoods, income, and control often exacerbates pre-existing tendencies towards violence (Women’s Funding Network 2005). Women who escaped to the Superdome later exposed the appalling conditions in the cramped facility—dead bodies, garbage, feces, urine. But they also report fear of physical violence from men. One of the most disturbing reports comes from a woman who testified that police officers instilled the greatest anxiety. ‘We were cursed when we asked for help for our elderly, we had guns aimed at us…They made everybody sit on the ground with their hands in the air, even babies…My 5-year-old granddaughter cried and asked her mama if she was doing right’ (McKinney 2006). Restricted communication, loss of support systems and relocation to temporary shelters is especially traumatizing for victims of domestic abuse. Louisiana lost five domestic violence shelters during Hurricane Katrina. Practitioners report that ‘many women in New Orleans fled abusive homes for the protection of the shelter only to find themselves displaced from the shelter in the aftermath of the storm’ (National Coalition Against Domestic Violence 2005). Practitioners also fear that battered women in New Orleans will return to abusive partners in the absence of viable alternatives.

Critics contend that FEMA’s haphazard evacuation measures are explained not only by the scope of Katrina’s devastation, but by the ‘psychic distance’ of the Gulf Coast from more affluent regions of America. In the words of one commentator, Katrina’s victims had been ‘written off’ long before the hurricane touched ground (Segrest 2005). Witnesses who appeared before the Select Bipartisan Committee to investigate Katrina testified that communities throughout New Orleans were ignored by FEMA and the Red Cross. According to residents in African American parishes, FEMA and the Red Cross focused operations in primarily white neighborhoods; it was left to local black churches to provide food, medicine, shelter and transportation. Barbara Arnwine, president of the Lawyers Committee on Civil Rights, relates FEMA’s decision to avoid African American neighborhoods to rumors and racial stereotyping. Unsubstantiated stories of violence and looting instilled fear in aid workers, who were then reluctant to provide assistance to African American citizens. Ms. Arnwine goes on to suggest that, had federal agents arrived sooner and provided adequate security and communications, the false allegations would not have taken hold (McKinney 13).

There can be little doubt that media reports of a breakdown in law and order had a disastrous affect on relief efforts in black neighborhoods. The negative depictions likewise served to criminalize black communities already traumatized by the flood and its aftermath (Segrest 2005). African Americans leaders charge that media coverage of Hurricane Katrina was racially biased and portrayed black residents as thieves and white residents as victims. The national media reported widespread looting in New Orleans, mostly by people of color. Items stolen included food and water, as well as non-essential items (clothing, jewelry, and electronics). The ‘good guys’ were the doctors (white-collar heroes) who raided pharmacies to procure drugs for their patients. The most frequent reports declared rampant carjacking, murders, theft, and rape. All but one were subsequently discredited as mere rumors (Rosenblatt & Rainey 2005). Footage was aired of local citizens with shotguns aiming towards helicopters. Eyewitnesses later reported that these so-called ‘vigilantes’ were frantic residents trapped on rooftops. Their gunfire was an attempt to alert rescue teams of their presence (Quigley 2006). The controversy reached a crescendo when photos taken by Agence-France-Press and the Associated Press were published with differing captions; Caucasians with questionably acquired goods were ‘finding’ supplies; African Americans were ‘looting’ (Mikkelson & Mikkelson 2005).

As the initial evacuation phase ended, FEMA was faced with a new set of challenges—the enormous task of resettlement. In two weeks Hurricane Katrina produced 1 million evacuees, the largest U.S. displacement and resettlement in 150 years. FEMA reports that evacuees remain scattered across all 50 states in 1/2 of the nation’s postal zones (Quigley 2005). Many who escaped New Orleans vow never to return. Others continue their temporary existence in hotel rooms, on cruise ships, in FEMA trailers, or with host families or relatives in other states. ‘Whatever they do’, one reporter writes, ‘the nation may never be the same, as a smaller New Orleans rises up from its ruins, and bits of Creole culture are seeded from East coast to West’ (Grier 2005). The migration of Katrina survivors to other U.S. cities will undoubtedly affect the communities where evacuees resettle, especially in more rural or homogenous towns. But such changes are by no means one-way. Louisianans transplanted to other U.S. regions can experience their own ‘culture shock’, as well as the loss of social networks and support systems. One of the most contentious issues is the fate those, mostly poor and African American, who want to return to their communities but do not have the resources to do so (Baraka 2005). Reports also reveal that 10,000 trailers commissioned by FEMA for flood victims remain on runways in Arkansas (Quigley 2006).

Human rights advocates are challenging the government to recognize the survivors of Hurricane Katrina as internally displaced persons and afford them the same protections delineated under the U.N.’s Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement. Protection under these guidelines would guarantee Katrina survivors access to basic shelter and housing, access to essential medical services and sanitation, access to education, and recognition of the special concerns of women and children (Human Rights Network 2006). Feminist commentaries present similar arguments that the recent disaster must be viewed within a global context of emergency management. International women activists write of the ‘striking similarities’ between hurricane-devastated Gulf Coast cities and crisis areas outside the United States. Sri Lankan activist Sunila Abeysekera observed following Katrina that her own experiences after the tsunami revealed ‘it is easier to deal with material assistance than the long term scars and processes of grieving and healing…and this type of assistance is even more inaccessible if you are poor and marginalized’ (Urgent Action Fund 2005).

The debates about FEMA are far from over. Was the agency’s poor performance during Katrina due to government incompetence? Indifference? Lack of knowledge? Lack of resources? Should FEMA, as some suggest, be abolished altogether? (BBC 27/4/06). While the fate of FEMA hangs in the balance, the embattled agency is trying to repair its reputation and publicize its current efforts to assist Katrina survivors. In a recent memo, the agency outlined its ongoing commitment and contributions to the recovery process.

o $14.7 billion in flood insurance payments

o $1.05 billion in business loans

o $5.35 billion in homeowner loans

o $3.5 billion in rental assistance

o $330 million in unemployment assistance

o More than 1 million housing inspections to assess disaster-related damage (FEMA 2006)

New Orleans’ residents contend that, while helpful, FEMA’s strategies are only part of the solution. One of the most striking aspects of post-Katrina recovery in New Orleans is the widespread recognition that grassroots initiatives must fill the gap of federal relief. Local citizens are aware that those left behind during Katrina could be left behind again in the city’s reconstruction. As one analyst rightly asks: ‘How many people will [New Orleans] be built for, and who will they be?’ (Grier 2005). Grassroots recovery combines humanitarian activity with an ‘alternative vision of rebuilding’ focused on empowerment and respect (Azulay 2005). Residents do not want to be seen as victims, but rather as knowledgeable and active participants at all levels and at all stages. Local organizations (civic groups, women’s groups, religious groups) unload trucks, patch homes, deliver supplies, and manage on-site distribution centers. Community activist ‘Mama D’ helped organize the Soul Patrol, a cleaning force that clears debris from streets, sidewalks, and front porches. Common Ground, a grassroots collective founded by black activist Malik Rahim, established a center where residents can register online with FEMA. African American leaders are also organizing worker cooperatives that employ local residents, setting up land trusts, and arranging housing, free education, and health care. Activist Suncere Ali Shakur provides the following summary: ‘Right now we are in the phase of spreading hope, and when there is hope, anything can happen’ (Azulay 2005).

It is clear that post-disaster adversity will not deter citizens from reclaiming their neighborhoods. It is also clear that women are central to this reclamation. As New Orleans rebuilds, women confirm that those most vulnerable to disaster are those who also create disaster-resilient communities (Enarson 1998). In the words of one commentator, ‘Women and girls were in the thick of the crisis and now are on the forefront of resource management and rebuilding in every household, school, and community’ (Women’s Funding Network 2005). Women in New Orleans’ poorest districts emphasize the need to rebuild communities, not just houses. They seek to restore pre-existing social networks (family, church groups, civic organizations), but also to expand these networks to previously underserved populations: youth, the elderly, and ethnic minorities. The vitality of women’s efforts in the wake of Katrina, and their passionate promotion of women’s skills and capacity, underscore the lessons learned from global crises. International disasters reveal that emergencies simultaneously are opportunities for renegotiating gender and empowering women. Female survivors often derive confidence from their new role as providers and protectors. Surrounded by loss, women develop a stronger sense of political consciousness and agency (El-Bushra 2000).

The events of August-September 2005 made painfully clear that fundamental changes are needed to combat race- and gender-based discrimination in New Orleans and to improve the status of the women. The women of New Orleans are doing just that. Grassroots movements in the city’s poorest communities are re-evaluating past policies and advancing new strategies for permanent improvements in women’s well-being. Their efforts draw special attention to the disproportionate rates of poverty among black single mothers and highlight the need for long-term anti-poverty reform. Activists insist that women be equal recipients of state and federal relief funding. At the same time, steps should be taken to effect long-term social and economic change. Recommendations include:

o Employment assistance that incorporates education and training for disadvantaged women, help with job placement, and the guarantee of a fair wage.

o Opportunities for women in non-traditional jobs, including post-Katrina reconstruction projects, fire prevention, and public safety.

o Provision of quality child care for evacuees seeking employment. Child care centers are vital to allowing women full participation in all stages of the rebuilding process. Such facilities also offer long-term solutions for improving women’s chances of employment and advancement. (Gault, Hartmann, Jones-DeWeever, Wershkul & Williams 2005)

President Bush recently announced that the reconstruction of New Orleans and other Gulf Coast cities provides a ‘fantastic opportunity’ for private businesses and investment. FEMA’s most recent report indicates it has spent $22.9 billion on Katrina projects alone (Brookings Institution 2006). What neither the president nor FEMA have ensured is the equitable participation of Gulf Coast citizens in this economic ‘windfall’. Thus far, minority businesses have received only 1.5 percent of the $1.6 billion awarded by FEMA to repair damages caused by Katrina. In addition, the Bush administration suspended affirmative action policies that promoted the employment of women and minorities in reconstruction projects (Williams 2005). Reverend Jesse Jackson has asked why African Americans are not heading federal relief efforts when the majority of New Orleans survivors are black. ‘How can blacks be locked out of the leadership and trapped in the suffering? It is that of lack of sensitivity and compassion that represents a kind of incompetence’ (Wikipedia 2005). In the midst of these painful exclusions, it is essential to recognize that the people of New Orleans—largely poor African Americans—served as first responders during Hurricane Katrina and now offer the most inclusive long-term strategies for recovery. Such initiatives go beyond well physical reconstruction to confront the systemic issues of race, class and gender that existed prior to Katrina and exacerbated its affects. I propose that FEMA has much to learn from the policy frameworks, and accumulated experience, of New Orleans’ poorest communities. It is these efforts that most effectively ameliorate the consequences of Hurricane Katrina and ‘build back better’ for the future.