A Place to Call Home
I just got to renovating my home. I had a shotgun house and I just had 600 feet added on. Come on take a little walk, I show ya’ll. My steps are still there, the rest was swept away.
One of the most sobering moments of our experience in New Orleans, was seeing the lone steps of Steve Robinson’s home. As we interviewed him, he offered to walk us down the road to where his house had been. Although there was not much to show, Steve had a glowing pride at what used to be his --and a bright optimism of what could be again.
The percentage of Black homeownership compared to the overall population in the Lower Ninth Ward pre-Katrina was higher than black homeownership in any other part of the United States (Wagner, 2007). The city represented a tangible movement towards increased black homeownership in the United States --something that has been, and still is, systematically hindered.
Every area we visited in New Orleans, every cab ride, every café, every market, was filled with residents that had an overwhelming love for their community. They were eager to share the history of New Orleans, and what made it their favorite place that they have ever lived. This rings even truer in the Lower Ninth Ward, where 92 percent of the population is born there and stays there. Investment in and love for their community may be one reason that supplies this statistic, but another reason may be that the Lower Nine was one of the few places that blacks have outright owned their homes. Over 50 percent of the population had been living in their home since 1989 or earlier (Greater New Orleans Community Data Center, 2006). This homeownership is passed down from generation to generation of families, giving them an opportunity that they couldn't find if they ever decided to move.
In 2005 when Hurricane Katrina devastated the area, it forced our nation to show it’s true concern for the Lower Nine and the generations of black homeowners who lived there. The unfortunate result was that no concern was shown. Rebuilding the Lower Nine would entail “more than new houses: it calls for jobs, public transportation, and a pattern of retail services placing the area squarely within—not isolated from—the city’s economy. It demands cooperation between government officials and scientists to build the best flood protection system possible. Finally, and most important, resuscitation requires supporting thousands of displaced residents in their desire to return home” (Landphair, 2007). However, 10 years after the Hurricane, we visited the Lower Ninth Ward. The devastation and desolation made it clear that too few people actually showed their care for this neighborhood--this neighborhood filled with residents that could finally call a place their home.
The percentage of Black homeownership compared to the overall population in the Lower Ninth Ward pre-Katrina was higher than black homeownership in any other part of the United States (Wagner, 2007). The city represented a tangible movement towards increased black homeownership in the United States --something that has been, and still is, systematically hindered.
Every area we visited in New Orleans, every cab ride, every café, every market, was filled with residents that had an overwhelming love for their community. They were eager to share the history of New Orleans, and what made it their favorite place that they have ever lived. This rings even truer in the Lower Ninth Ward, where 92 percent of the population is born there and stays there. Investment in and love for their community may be one reason that supplies this statistic, but another reason may be that the Lower Nine was one of the few places that blacks have outright owned their homes. Over 50 percent of the population had been living in their home since 1989 or earlier (Greater New Orleans Community Data Center, 2006). This homeownership is passed down from generation to generation of families, giving them an opportunity that they couldn't find if they ever decided to move.
In 2005 when Hurricane Katrina devastated the area, it forced our nation to show it’s true concern for the Lower Nine and the generations of black homeowners who lived there. The unfortunate result was that no concern was shown. Rebuilding the Lower Nine would entail “more than new houses: it calls for jobs, public transportation, and a pattern of retail services placing the area squarely within—not isolated from—the city’s economy. It demands cooperation between government officials and scientists to build the best flood protection system possible. Finally, and most important, resuscitation requires supporting thousands of displaced residents in their desire to return home” (Landphair, 2007). However, 10 years after the Hurricane, we visited the Lower Ninth Ward. The devastation and desolation made it clear that too few people actually showed their care for this neighborhood--this neighborhood filled with residents that could finally call a place their home.