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September 12, 2005
What Now?
I just arrived back in Omaha after my trip to Shreveport, Louisiana. I say "just arrived" to mean that I walked into the door of my home just minutes ago. And I don't know what to do next. So I would like to share my experiences with you while they are still fresh in my mind. It's long, so I broke it up into sections.
Wednesday
I spent Wednesday on the road to Shreveport with twelve brothers and sisters. We departed Ames, Iowa around 3:00 PM and arrived in Texarkana, Texas around 4:30 AM after a brief detour through the panhandle of Oklahoma (oops). We spent the night (morning) at my Aunt and Uncle's home, where we experienced the epitome of southern hospitality.
Thursday
On Thursday we headed to the Hirsch Coliseum in Shreveport, which is one of the Red Cross shelters for evacuees. We became Red Cross certified volunteers, which is typically earned after a week of training, after only an hour of instruction. During the training, we were warned against trying to "convert" people.
Yet most of the Red Cross volunteers who had been coordinating the shelter were believers. In fact, I am fairly certain that the shelter would not function without the help of the Assembly of God church in Shreveport, which was our contact in arranging our trip. Almost every time I mentioned to other volunteers that I was there with a church group, they praised God for us, blessed us, and encouraged us to minister. A Red Cross coordinator named Kathy claimed us as "her" volunteers as we came out of orientation, and she made sure that we had opportunities to reach out to the evacuees and specifically address their spiritual needs. The Spirit was so evident to me during times of talking with other believers that on several occasions I had chills.
When I walked into the coliseum for the first time and saw the air mattresses lined up on the floor, I almost broke down. I just couldn't imagine living with so many strangers and such little privacy. Yet the rest of the evacuees' needs were provided for. We ate the same food as them, and I thought it was quite good. There were boxes overflowing with clothing, a room with packages of diapers overflowing from it, and more bottles of hand sanitizer than residents of Louisiana.
One of my fears was that the evacuees would be frustrated and take their anger out on volunteers. I never had this happen to me. Every person I helped was incredibly gracious for anything I could do for them, even though sometimes it seemed like so little. It amazed me how these people could be so happy with what little they were given.
Another fear I had before the trip was that the whole situation seemed unreal to me from just watching it on the news. I was afraid of being shocked when I saw it first hand. But the situation never did become real for me. Shreveport was not hit by the hurricane. The closest I came to the disaster was listening to the evacuees tell about how they had spent hours in flood waters up to their shoulders days earlier. The majority had lost or was missing several family members. But hearing the stories first hand did not make the hurricane much less surreal to me.
The first evening, I worked on sanitizing all of the children’s toys and discarding the extremely dirty or broken ones. The task evolved into playing with the children once they returned from school. (They are being bussed to area schools.) Most of the kids didn't have very attentive parents, so they were on their own. They also craved attention and a playmate. We were all instantly their best friends when we took the time to sit down and play with them.
One of the kids who I hung out with quite a bit was named Kentrel. "Trel" seemed not as well behaved as the rest of the kids, and always wanted one-on-one attention. He would alternate between hugging me and hitting me. I wasn't shocked by his behavior the first night, because I new he, along with all of the other kids, had been through more than anyone should ever have to deal with.
Friday
On Friday I helped in the computer room with searching for missing people. In the evening, though, more volunteers were in the room than computers, so I left to help elsewhere. Nancy and I took some kids to see the very end of the circus. When the little girl's feet got tired, we gave her piggyback rides half of the way back. When we couldn't carry them any farther, we discovered two abandoned shopping carts and pushed them the rest of the way.
After we returned, Trel saw me and ran up and grabbed my hand, so we went over to play with the toys. By the end of the evening, I had seen several obvious warning signs that Trel had seen and experienced things that were deeply troubling him, and he needed more help than I could give him.
I took a few minutes to walk over to the mental health desk and meet the two psychologists who were working there. I told them that I was worried about Trel, and they agreed to talk to him. Heather and I tried to walk him over that evening, but whatever we wanted to do, he didn't want to do it. Soon, his mother called him to go take a shower, and we had to leave. That evening was really hard for me. I felt incredibly helpless and prayed constantly that God would give me the opportunity to help Trel.
Saturday
On Saturday morning, Heather and I took a shift in the diaper room. We arrived around 7:30, but the "guests" were sleeping in since the kids didn't have to get up for school. Sleeping at night was difficult, since we were putting in 14-hour days at the shelter and didn't have much time to process our experiences. It took me at least an hour of lying in my sleeping bag each night with my head spinning before I could sort things out enough and relax enough to fall asleep. So I'm not sure about Heather, but I was falling asleep in the diaper room.
I shifted around a lot on Saturday. I worked in the toiletry station, where guests could come pick up shampoo, deodorant, towels, and even check out curling irons. A few people stopped in, but not many. I helped haul in some boxes of hand sanitizer. I ended up back in the diaper room for a while. Trel was running in and out, destroying the diaper room and strewing clothes all over. I was rapidly loosing my patience and continually praying for more. I worked at the registration desk for a bit, then was summoned back to the computer room. I felt like a ping-pong ball, and wasn't sure that I was accomplishing much of anything.
Late that afternoon, I decided that I needed to make Trel my priority. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed far away from that kid, but I wasn't there for me. I walked back to the mental health desk and was relieved to find the same two guys working there. I had checked a few times earlier that day, but couldn't see past the crowd of people in front of the desk. I told the psychologists that I was going to try to bring Trel again. I nabbed Heather from the registration desk, and she had the brilliant idea to give Trel a piggyback ride over to the desk.
We sat down at the desk, and I introduced Trel to my "friends." Trel wasn't very verbal, and he clammed up and wouldn't even tell them his name. He ran over to the wheel chairs (the health center was right next to us) and sat down in one. One of the psychologists came over, popped up the wheel chair on it's back wheels, and took Trel for a ride out the door. He looked thrilled as we waved good-bye.
Heather went back to the registration desk, and I had the opportunity to talk with the other psychologist. He said that he had never done disaster work before, but he worked for the state and they assigned him to it. Talking with him made me start thinking again about going back to school and getting a grad degree in psychology.
After a while, Trel came back, and the pscyhologist asked me to bring him back again in about an hour. We played until then, and took another piggyback ride back. This time, he went over to the psychologist right away without any hesitation. I was so thankful that Trel seemed to be clicking with him.
The medical desk was in dire need of volunteers, so I worked there for the rest of the night. I had hoped to be able to talk to one of the long-term volunteers and ask them to make sure that Trel went back to talk to the psychologists, but most of them had left for the day. I ended up just going over to Trel's bed with Tiffany and Heather to tell him good-bye. Whenever I had to leave in the past, he had grabbed my hand and begged me not to go, but he seemed to understand this time that we had to leave for good. He gave us each one last hug, and I told him that he should keep hanging out with our new friend and that God loves him.
It was so hard for me to leave the shelter. I felt like there was so much more that needed to be done, and I wanted to stay with Trel and make sure he got the help he needed. But we left and had a relaxing dinner at a restaurant with an amazing view of the river and the city.
Conclusion
One general experience I will take away from this trip is God's provision. I'm a planner. I want to know where we will eat and where we will sleep. The first night in Shreveport, we slept in tents in Tim's brother's backyard. The second night, some people at the shelter learned that we were camping and offered us their homes. Meals were provided for us. Someone, I thought it was Matt but can't find it in his blog, posted Matthew 6:31-34 before we left, and I saw that promise kept.
Finally, there has been some talk on the theory that God sent Hurricane Katrina as a warning or as punishment. I don't believe that. I believe that this world is not perfect and is filled with pain. But I believe that God was with every person during that hurricane, hurting with them. And I believe that he is there meeting people in their time of need. He will work through the tragedy to bring about good.
I know I will think of more stories and experiences in the coming days, so I'll post them as I recall them. But what about my feeling of "what now?" I have seen need, and I feel like I should continue to help meet it. But I need to find a job, so I'm going to work on that some more. I don't get the adrenaline boost from the job search that I do from disaster relief work, but that's life. On the other hand, if a group decides to go back, I am ready to go again at a moment's notice.
Posted by Megan at September 12, 2005 07:36 PM
Comments
that is an awesome writeup, megan. Thanks.
Posted by: Matt Heerema at September 13, 2005 10:58 AM
thanks Megan for writing up your experiences. I loved reading about them. I'm really glad that you went!
Posted by: naomi at September 14, 2005 12:38 PM
Thanks for coming down Megan, and very touching articles. Good luck on the job hunt.
Posted by: Rob Gaudet at September 15, 2005 09:26 PM
Thats a great write up. I was also at Hirsch the same time you were. I went from Kentucky with my mom (Barbara) and sister(Lindsey). I definately remember meeting several of you guys. Yall were all really great from taking time out to volunteer. I don't know how you all feel, but I have such an itch to go back and help out more.
Haley
Posted by: Haley Roach at September 23, 2005 02:11 PM