Just call me Scout

Happy February 27th! What a beautiful day here in Galveston. After an unseasonably cold winter - or so we are told - Galveston seems to be warming up. Andy is at a conference all day today presenting some work. I'm kind of bummed he is missing this beautiful sunny day, but Nellie and I are making the best of it - we took a nice walk to the beach and Nell had a blast. She LOVES the sand. Its really hilarious to watch. She starts digging a hole and then jumps up to run in big track like circles. Shes certainly got greyhound in her.

Well, this week was an interesting turning point for me in Galveston. I haven't really talked much about the political scene here in this island community. As most people know, Galveston was hit by an incredible hurricane in September of 2008. Hurricanes are not foreign to Gulf Coast dwellers and very much a part of life. Evacuations are semi regular - many folk have told me about their treks out of town in the past for different storms as they make their way into the Gulf. We are incredible greatful to Sam Houston State University for giving our good friend Rob Cramer a job next year, just two hours north of where we are now. Rob is now officially our "evacuation buddy" should the need arise. Better get a nice big apartment buddy!

Storms with incredible "hurricane Ike-like" damage only seem to happen every 100 years. While hurricane Ike was only a class 2 or 3 hurricane in size and wind force, the storm surge or resulting flooding onto the island produced the damage equivalent to a class 5 storm. Many families and business owners lost their homes and stores. It is not uncommon to learn that friends spent 7, 8, 9 months in a hotel before their houses were restored enough to move back home. Many businesses and residents have not moved back yet and this has a terrible effect on the economy as it moves in fits and starts back to life again.

This is the background for my work at the Galveston housing authority. Prior to the storm, the housing authority provided affordable housing solutions for the island poor. A predominantly tourist economy, many island workers make their livelihood in the restaurants and hotels that dot the island. A waiter or waitress may only bring in $25 - 35,000 a year if she's lucky. For one person, this salary can be tolerable. But if a single mom has children to feed, she is in trouble if she can't find an affordable apartment.

When the storm came, the island's public housing had to be torn down as did many rentals that families lived in. Now the question turns to how the island might rebuild so that the lower, middle and upper class can live together to make this island flourish again.

I'll refrain from getting into the details of the arguments. Its surely been interesting to be a part of, to say the least. In many ways, I can understand the drama the island finds itself in. Government (tax payer) funds are at stake. Hurricane Ike spared no one. Rich and poor felt the pain and sadness of losing all they owned and also losing the community they had built. With so many choosing not to return or struggling to get back home, the community has suffered greatly and therefore tensions are high as the city determines how funds are dispersed and who gets what.

Thus, I found myself in cramped city hall quarters on Thursday night listening to 4 hours of public comment from folk on both sides of the debate regarding the island's public housing. My colleagues are feeling beat up. For over a year now, they have fought hard to represent those who are so often without a voice - the poor. In many ways, I felt like an outsider as I am new to the fight and so often do not know the history of what was and what has occurred since the storm.

I felt in the position of 10 year old Scout in Harper Lee's incredible book To Kill a Mockingbird which I just recently read. Scout is the young daughter of a southern white lawyer who defends a black man in the Alabama south. Its an incredible book that displays the intensity and rawness of emotion that erupts in a town over controversy.

There was a woman on Thursday night that really struck a chord in me. Apparently an advocate for affordable housing for some time now, this elderly woman of 96 years old walked up the podium with the help of a cane and noted her decades of struggle for equality. She likened the current arguments to the early days at UTMB when she and her friends fought for a nursing program for black women who wanted a chance at furthering their careers. She pointed at the 6 council persons and the mayor and stated emphatically that "the poor are our conscience" and shame on us if we do not allow for their prosperity in our society also. It was wonderful for me to see so many people walk to the podium and explain how public housing was a stepping stone for their families. Many had children who went on to college and had attained a measure of success for themselves as well.

GHA won a key vote Thursday night. We are to contract with an architect to draw up plans for council approval. The fight still looms large and while I my heart for the poor continues to beat loudly I do also hear the voices of those who don't want to return to the woes of the past. Because the poor live at the margins they are so often impacted and pulled in by detrimental societal forces. We may rebuild structures but we will fail miserably if we do not implement systems to build people too.

Personally, I want to continue to be shaped by those who are frustrated with what was so that we might not be content with doing what is easy. It is easy to build houses. it is much more difficult to change mindsets and to take on new skills - no one is exempt from the process of rebuilding oneself.