Initiatives of Change - Repairing the Breach by Robert Corcoran, United States

It will take more than steel and concrete to repair the festering wounds revealed by Katrina’s onslaught on New Orleans. The ferocious power of wind and water combined to expose the reality of a community deeply divided by class and race. Twenty-eight percent of New Orleans lives below the poverty level. One hundred and twenty thousand people exist on incomes of less than $8,000. Eighty percent of the poor are black.

But New Orleans is simply a dramatic reflection of much of America. My hometown of Richmond, Virginia contains one of the wealthiest census tracts in the US. Almost within walking distance lie neighborhoods with some of the lowest incomes in the nation. In New York, the poorest one fifth of Manhattan residents earn 2 cents for every dollar that goes to the richest one fifth.

Robert Reich, the former secretary of labor writes that across the nation the “old work-force compact is in shreds.” Wages are stagnant; everyone is putting in more hours simply to stay afloat. Health care costs continue to skyrocket.

In the great Mississippi flood of 1927, New Orleans civic leaders intentionally flooded poor neighborhoods in order to release pressure on the rest of the city. (Rumors of similar action circulated last week.) Bowing to the demands of uncontrolled development, swamps were drained and reclaimed land sank even further. Short-term thinking trumped the need for serious spending on levees that were known to be vulnerable. New Orleans reflects trends in the country as a whole: under-investment in vital infrastructure, over-greedy development, and a growing disparity of wealth and access to vital services.

Overseas, America promotes democracy, freedom and opportunity. At home, a large section of our population is trapped in poverty, fear and daily indignity. Great sacrifices are expected of our young men serving in Iraq and their loyal families. Nothing is asked of the rest of America except to go on living as if there is no tomorrow, spending endlessly at the malls and driving gas-guzzling SUVs. The international response to the disaster – even from traditional foes – has been remarkable. But, as the poor, the elderly, the very young and the disabled struggle to survive the ravages of Katrina, the world asks how the most powerful country could leave so many of its most vulnerable citizens so unprotected.

Yet, Americans are hugely generous, highly practical people. Hundreds of millions of dollars in donations have poured in to aid the hurricane victims. Towns and cities across the country are opening their hearts and their doors. More than one hundred and forty thousand evacuees have been invited to individual homes. We have been stirred by stories of nurses working ventilators by hand, round the clock, to keep alive desperately ill patients. We have seen heroic feats of rescue and simple acts of kindness.

Americans know as they look at the heartbreak on their television screens that something is deeply wrong. They understand that sustaining a diverse national community demands shared risk and sacrifice. They are prepared to pay the cost if our leaders have the courage to ask.

The human tragedy of New Orleans challenges us to consider our country’s still unfulfilled commitment to the proposition that all men are created equal. Broken promises over the decades have breached the levees of trust. None of us is responsible for the wounds of the past but we are all responsible for the acts of repair.

In the summer of 1992, with the fires of the Los Angeles uprising still smoldering, Americans of all backgrounds convened to commit themselves to a movement to heal the heart of America. An honest conversation on “race, reconciliation and responsibility” was launched in Richmond the following year. Twelve years later, our understanding of the conditions for constructive dialogue and healing of painful history has advanced significantly. But the work has just begun.

Initiatives of Change has promoted dialogue and citizen action by asking questions we may prefer to leave unspoken, and addressing topics we fear to put on the table. In Richmond we are asking: why is it that fifty years after the historic Supreme Court ruling in Brown versus Board of Education, which outlawed racially segregated education, so many of our schools are still separate and unequal? If every child were my child, how would I respond differently?

Every community in America must learn to ask itself hard questions. Without blame, but with shared responsibility, we can move forward together towards solutions.