I managed to tune it out for the first several days, as I did the tsunami over the holiday season last year, simply by ignoring the news. Eventually, however, I started reading various blogs about Katrina. They changed my feelings about Katrina's aftermath in ways I couldn't've predicted.

My initial response, like that of so many people---even before the hurricane truly hit was, `sigh, I suppose my tax dollars will end up footing the bill to get those fools who would choose to live in a floodplain out...' I didn't and don't think much of people who currently build their homes in flood zones and then expect the rest of us to pick up the tab. New Orleans, however, has been settled since the 1700s, back when being on a waterway meant access to the most efficient transportation of the era, our waterways; and we evidently have our dear federal government to thank for gutting the budget to protect it from storms like this, though plans for dealing with Katrina-like storms have been known for years (not to mention burying the collective American head in the sand with regard to global warming which I'm more than a bit convinced has something to do with the increasing ferocity of recent hurricanes.)

As I read the various accounts---sometimes conflicting, often disheartening, frequently wrenching, but always engaging---I began to realize, listening to friends---even quite liberal friends who love New Orleans---that my views of Katrina and its effects were different than those of people who relied strictly upon television news. I had no idea, until I started reading, how poor so many of these folks were---and how willing so many other Americans were---and still are---as I thoughtlessly was, to blame them for their troubles.

---

I was to go to New Orleans next summer, for a conference. I had been looking forward to it for three years; now, even if the city recovers in time, the ISGB has already made the decision to move the conference elsewhere. You can't blame them, I suppose. They've just hired a director, and her salary is a significant portion of the group's income, which it derives from dues and its annual conference. In any case, I will never get to see the city as I'd hoped---so much of what I'd hoped to see is now gone. But how is the city to recover, even if they manage to regroup, if no-one shows up?

I think little of our current administration, which seems to me to be primarily interested in furthering its oil interests and---as a bonus---feathering its nest with rich war contracts in Iraq, rather than taking steps to make the US realize that oil is a finite resource, for which we must now compete with the booming Chinese economy, that global warming is a reality, but instead is busy spreading fear and fundamentalism (Christian and otherwise) rather than understanding (which would mean making hard choices).

(That is not to say there aren't issues we shouldn't be fearful of. We fight wars with more-or-less innocent Iraqis---'cuz we want the oil, but don't have the balls to go after the Saudis, where the oil and terrorists really come from. Not that attacking Saudi Arabia is the right thing to do, but it would be a tad less hypocritical. But our fears are so selfish, so narrow. We fear dark complected `terrorists', as if the bombings at the World Trade Center were the be-all and end-all, when those in the Middle East live with this kind of terror day in and day out. We screech about gays and teenaged sex, instead of addressing the very real problems AIDS is wreaking, say, in Africa. It's pathetic.)

But there seems to be so precious little to do to help. One man suggested donated the money he would've spent on holiday gifts to Katrina efforts; another, while applauding the generosity, notes that there are endless tragedies, and that Katrina, horrible as its consequences were, is just one more. ---In that I agree. But it still leaves me with the question, what to do?

To some degree, one has to tackle problems in one's own scale.This wonderful website of fonts, free for charitable or personal use, and even for commercial use, with a request for a donation from the profits of the latter to Doctors without Borders or a similar group, led me back to the idea of writing again. A voluntary donation is not much to ask, is it? Especially now that I've learned how to download fonts, and use them in inkscape, an open-source scalable vector program that is improving by leaps and bounds.

But it's something at least. ---And so here are some other organizations, for whom I've had the privilege, in whatever small ways, to help.

The hope bracelet project is one of my favorite ways of helping out, cuz I get to make beads while doing it: they're happy to receive beads from lampworkers (and others---e.g. bali silver). I've also realized a long time dream of helping an adult learn to read, tutoring esl through the washtenaw literacy program. So far my learner hasn't seen fit to brain me, which must mean something:)

And, this is the first time in quite awhile---maybe even this year---I've gone past Dexter, all the way to Chelsea, which I did because the ride was dedicated to Ms. Marcotte. The stamina was thanks to riding the 50 mile route last week for PEAC's Celebration of Cycling, which helps to integrate cyclists with disabilities in the cycling community. I'm happy to report that despite the rain, they had their best turnout ever.

These are my little candles against the seemingly endless darkness of hatred, cruelty, and indifference. Sometimes flames just snuff out, but sometimes they light fires, even conflagrations.

You do what you can.

file created 25sep05