Perspectives Persp e c t ives Habitat for Humanity: Trip of a lifetime

KASEY MINNICK SPORTS EDITOR KM735@CABRINI EDU

Many people in this world take things for granted in their lives and have no idea how lucky they are compared to those without anything. I was classified as one of those people who didn’t know how good I had it until I traveled with five other students from Cabrini College to New Orleans, La. to help rebuild houses with Habitat for Humanity and Americorps.

I can explain how we arrived at Camp Hope, a volunteer base camp, and were shown our small quarters to sleep in with 25 or more cots, the freezing showers we had until the day the mobile, warm showers pulled up and we felt like we all had won the lottery. But this writing shouldn’t be about my hardships; this is about the victim’s sufferings and how more than two years later life isn’t easier for them, but they put a smile on their faces and stay strong.

The eerie 9th Ward in New Orleans still looks to be a ghost town and the feeling I received while traveling though the area was, “Why would people keep coming back to this when there is always a threat of devastation?” The truth that I later realized is that these natives have their roots here; they aged with the house, their neighbors, their community and they can’t just give-up. What kills me is that these people who desperately want to get back to their old lives and out of the government FEMA trailers can’t because there aren’t enough volunteers to go around or funding to get done what us students did to Miss Edna’s house.

Yes, part of that problem is our governments fault, but other blame goes to individuals with their heads in the clouds who believe that since the dilemma is not being broadcasted on television, everything is “fine and dandy.” If circumstances in the South are moving in an optimistic direction, then why are those same Cabrini students and I returning during our spring break? There is only so much the Cabrini community can do together, so that’s why others need to open their eyes to these perspective pieces on the damage still remaining.

For those that think we will be the people to pick up your slack, think again. While you are sipping your drink on some beach somewhere during your break, we will be in the company of grateful people and WE will be making the difference.

ASHLEY COOK NEWS EDITOR AAC722@CABRINI EDU

One of the first things Miss Edna ever said to us was that we were her angels and we would be her babies forever.

And that’s just the way they are in St. Bernard’s Parish and New Orleans. The most welcoming, thankful, friendly, inspiring, best people you could ever had the pleasure and privilege of meeting.

They are just simply really wonderful people. And what makes them so wonderful is they would say the exact same for you.

This town is a place where neighbors are considered family, everyone is embraced with a hello, people talk because they have a true interest in getting to know you better and even with the devastation that Hurricane Katrina caused, they still smile and laugh and take the time to really see the beauty in everything, something I think we in the North take for granted.

As Miss Edna showed us her small FEMA trailer, maybe the size of a small shed, a mix of emotions came over me. First I was in disbelief she had been living here for about two years. I felt sad, and then thankful for all that I have.

A sudden thought rushed to my mind and I felt ashamed. To think, I had thought I had it bad living in a small one-bedroom apartment with my family.

And here was Miss Edna, like many others from New Orleans with practically nothing to their name. Leaving her home with just two pairs of clothing, she came back to find her paid off home completely destroyed.

I realized though we may not always see it, their will always be someone who has it worse than others.

But why Miss Edna? It will never seem fair. Someone as loving and kind as Miss Edna deserves nothing but the best. After just recently losing her husband and whole world, I will never be able to express how sorry I am for what she has had to go through.

Miss Edna showed me depression pills her doctor prescribed her after the hurricane, the jar still full. She didn’t need to take medication because she would fight this battle on her own.

I think she is amazing.

After meeting with Miss Edna, our week was much more important then I had imagined. We were here to restore not only buildings and houses; we were here to restore the hope in these people.

Stepping foot into Camp Hope, it was not exactly your luxury get away. In fact, it was the worst living conditions I had ever seen. Four minute freezing cold showers, cots for sleeping about as long as my height, food donated that looked like maybe a four year old had cooked it and if you weren’t in the mood that day for another peanut butter sandwich, there was always the boxed food straight out of a military camp.

I have to admit; at first I wasn’t too thrilled to be stationed in the heart of the devastation. What I didn’t realize then was that this test was something that would change my life and perspective forever. Living like a local, I got first hand of just what it is like to live poor. And oddly enough, by the end of my trip, I was so happy. I didn’t want to leave!

I could handle peanut butter sandwiches, cold showers, small living spaces, because I love Miss Edna and the heart of this city is still so alive; just take a walk down Bourbon Street once, and I can guarantee you’ll never want to leave; it feels like home.

Every bruise, ache, scar, blister; working in the pouring rain, the scolding hot and the freezing cold, we did it. There was no time for breaks, no time to screw around; this was Miss Edna’s future we were building. Finishing was all that mattered.

As a team, we came together and even became our own little family, working together and helping each other out. I have never seen such determination and hard work in each and every volunteer as I did on this trip. Someone like myself who spends way too much time in front of the mirror, couldn’t care less about anything else but hit- ting that nail into the board or prying apart that window frame. Working from eight in the morning until sometimes four at night non-stop was not mandatory, but not one of us complained for a second.

I found something deep inside of myself that I had been hiding before I met Miss Edna. I found the strength to take this little 115-pound body and lift things twice my size, hammer until I could feel the blisters forming on my hands, and then continue anyway.

Working with pulled muscles and achy bones, our team was able to accomplish our goals and come together in the end as not only friends, but also a family. A family blessed to be brought here all for the same reason; to do the right thing.

I think everyone on this trip was changed one way or another because of the circumstances we were put into and because of how we rose up to the challenges we were faced.

Watching Miss Edna see us off as we were leaving was one of the hardest things we have ever had to face. But her words will live forever in my thoughts and prayers:

“I’m not rich with money, I’m rich with friends.”

There will be a day when we will be able to visit Miss Edna again, and I am looking forward to that day.