Fourteen paintings have a specific moment in time captured. All of the moments are memories of the things that came out of Hurricane Katrina’s destructive path. Most of the paintings in the collection by Rolland Golden are social critiques of the neglect experienced in New Orleans. One piece titled, “Throw Me A Line Mister,” shows a helicopter that is passing over the outstretched hands of citizens who are very obviously struggling to survive after their homes and neighborhoods have been destroyed by high winds and flooding. The helicopter stands as a placeholder for the government agencies and relief programs that failed to provide timely help to communities that experienced high levels of poverty even before the natural disaster.
Golden’s paintings can be found in the New Orleans Museum of art. They tell a visual story of tragedy and loss with several frames having foregrounds that depict flooded streets and homes. They stand as a reminder of the extent of the destruction Katrina caused and the lack of aid experienced by NOLA communities in the years following the disaster.
Find information on the paintings in Golden’s Katrina collection through the Historic New Orleans Collection (Bonner, Judith. “In 14 paintings, Rolland Golden Captured the Anguish and Hope of Life After Katrina.” The Historic New Orleans Collection. 10 September 2020.) And at Golden’s website.
Rontherin Ratliff is a New Orleans native artist. His piece titled, “Things That Float,” was created after the flooding of New Orleans’ ninth ward. He took a raft through his grandmother’s neighborhood and saw the destruction to the houses firsthand done by the flooding, all he could recover were a few pictures and other things that were able to find the surface. Ratliff created houses to resemble those of his grandmother and her neighbors and included clear basements where the pictures could be displayed. The exhibition, held at the NOLA Contemporary Arts Center, gave the effect of floating through the destroyed houses. The viewer is intended to feel as though they are on the raft as Ratliff was, discovering objects left behind and scattered just as Ratliff did.
This piece is a reminder of the physical destruction New Orleans saw as much as it is a placeholder for the sentimental objects lost in the flooding.
After observing a lack of access to nutritious, affordable food, I pondered what do communities do beyond food gathering strategies? What happens if a community doesn’t have the option to bargain or can’t access food programs? In New Orleans, community gardening has emerged as a social and political response to disasters and social issues (Kato, Passidomo, and Harvey). After Katrina, small-scale gardens in backyards or community gardens emerged because the storm produced vacant areas and there were food shortages that weren’t being immediately solved (Kato et al). Also, the hurricane was followed by a social and political shift that reintroduced the problem of food insecurity and pushed political organizing (Kato et al 1835). Gardening can give a community a chance to establish “political control” over a social space and strengthen the bond of the community by sharing and contributing to the physical space (Kato et al 1834). Produce may be available in stores and local markets, but the prices may not be affordable or in a convenient space. A community establishing a garden for plants or produce in a shared space shows that there is a “physical or geographic” barrier to food, and shows a possible solution to that barrier (George and Tomer). Gardening is an “inherently political” act because it engages with larger political and social issues in “subversive” ways (Kato et al 1845). Furthermore, it’s more than a beautiful sight, it is an act of resistance that physically shows the community’s ability to support itself and challenges political governance. When they’re built and shared within the community, gardens have the power to unite people and bring attention to intersecting issues.
Although I didn’t observe any community gardens within walking distance of my hotel, I did learn of one beyond Canal Street. In the Tremé neighborhood on Dumaine Street is Ms.Gloria’s Garden. It was built by her and her friends in her community, and she grows nutritious and healing plants. She’s worked hard to create a welcoming, open space for her community to visit and contribute to. While visiting Ms.Gloria’s garden, friends from her community came and they were content to see visitors enjoying the space they created. Even though it was a new place, I felt a connection to the community and garden, and it inspired me to look into creating one in my community at home. It’s important that the labor that Ms.Gloria and her community contributed to the garden is recognized because it shows how food assistance from the government isn’t enough to decrease food insecurity and increases access to nutritious foods. Labeling neighborhoods as food insecure and not addressing their efforts to solve the insecurity is counterproductive because it can characterize the neighborhood as comfortable with food insecurity. It’s important to map where food deserts are and what spaces are food insecure, but it’s equally important to map community gardens and food banks. This method would show that the community is engaging with a social issue through a physical space and can empower other communities to “share their local knowledge” in gardening (George and Tomer). In addition to this, “modernizing” food assistance programs, like SNAP, would benefit communities so food from gardens isn’t a sole option (George and Tomer). Food programs should be upgraded and adapted to fit a household’s needs based on their size, income, and the cost of living of the area they’re in (George and Tomer). Addressing food insecurity by having policies that reflect community needs and acknowledging their efforts raises the potential for improvements in food programs and directly supports the community.
Works Cited:
George, Caroline, and Adie Tomer. “Beyond ‘Food Deserts’: America Needs a New Approach to Mapping Food Insecurity.” Brookings Metro: Washington, DC, USA (2021).
Kato, Yuki, Catarina Passidomo, and Daina Harvey. “Political gardening in a post-disaster city: lessons from New Orleans.” Urban Studies 51.9 (2014): 1833-1849.
Before I arrived in New Orleans, I expected to make specific observations about environmental injustice. I anticipated looking into a lack of green spaces, the effects of climate events, and how housing disadvantages caused Black communities to experience them at a higher rate. Although I did observe that some communities are housed in areas that are more vulnerable to flooding, I decided to follow a different branch of environmental injustice: food insecurity. It’s when there is inadequate availability of nutritious foods, uncertainty about where food will come from and causes people to pursue different ways to gather food (Fitzgerald 4;Pyles, Kulkarni, and Lein 44). It disproportionately affects low-income households of women, Black, and Hispanic households, and in New Orleans, the “presence of food deserts” increases the food insecurity in the area (Pyles et al; Fitzgerald 8). Food deserts are areas that have “unequal geographic access” to nutritious, fresh foods and this was something I couldn’t help but notice in the city (George and Tomer). Within walking distance of my hotel, I noticed several convenience stores or restaurants as food options. The surrounding streets of the hotel was where I began my observations about the availability of food because the options made me consider if they were more suitable for locals or tourists. The food options were either fast food, touristy expensive restaurants, or liquor stores. They were convenient for visitors of the city, but not for the people who consistently visit Canal Street. New Orleans being a popular city to visit raises prices in general, but affordability is harder to achieve in areas that are focused on the satisfaction of visitors instead of locals. My observations pushed me to consider if an area with a concentration of tourists doesn’t have the best food options, what are the food options like in areas where tourists don’t visit? How can locals of the city maintain a balanced, nutritious diet in food insecure areas?
Since Hurricane Katrina, food insecurity has been a concern. In a research article exploring the food-gathering strategies of households before, during, and after Hurricane Katrina, the authors found that evacuees had to combine multiple food-collecting strategies to make ends meet (Pyles et al). They would share food by trading and bargaining, having meals together, and some households would give their extra provisions to families in need. However, these methods were not sustainable for long periods. Public and private food assistance programs were also an option for eligible households, but those who weren’t eligible or didn’t receive enough aid couldn’t rely solely on them. Additionally, a participant in the article described how the arrival of food from the National Guard was dehumanizing because it was thrown at them like animals (Pyles et al 50). Food assistance from the government was meant to help people affected by the hurricane but was unreliable to the point of pushing people to rely on multiple strategies to collect food. Relying on one channel of support was too risky for households, so combining any available strategies was the most resourceful option. Since Hurricane Katrina, there have been more hurricanes in Louisiana that continue to impact food-insecure households, and in 2017 the state had the second-highest rate of food insecurity in the US (Fitzgerald 4). Although it was almost twenty years ago, New Orleans is still affected by that disaster, and food insecure areas continue to increase.
Works Cited:
Fitzgerald, Kathleen J. “Hungry at the Banquet: Food Insecurity in Louisiana 2018.” (2018): 1-17.
Pyles, Loretta, Shanti Kulkarni, and Laura Lein. “Economic survival strategies and food insecurity: The case of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans.” Journal of Social Service Research 34.3 (2008): 43-53.
The importance of gardening extends beyond producing fresh food for communities and strengthening connections. Gardening and farming has a historical and health significance to the Black community. Enslaved Black people were forced to farm on plantations for generations and they used their farming skills to grow food for themselves to supplement their diets (Tolliver-Jackson). Moreover, gardening was an act of resistance that defied the forced labor on plantations and showed that Black people had control over their labor and their food. A tradition of growing food and connecting to outdoor spaces has followed Black communities throughout time, and it still exists for us. Black communities disproportionately experience racial violence and they can be trapped in cycles where their mental and physical health are being exhausted (Tolliver-Jackson). Gardening can act as an “outlet” for their negative experiences and give “tranquility and ownership” in situations where it feels impossible (Tolliver-Jackson). In a UK-based article reviewing the health benefits of exposure to green spaces, the author describes how “exposure to plants and gardening” can have positive health effects on patients in hospitals (Thompson). Exposing patients to green spaces or gardens within hospitals has reduced the pain of patients, improved productivity, and is connected to decreasing anxiety and depression (Thompson; Tolliver-Jackson). For Black communities, green spaces can positively impact their mental states and give them comfort. These same benefits are likely experienced by visitors to Ms.Gloria’s Garden, or other community green spaces. Green spaces can be therapeutic and social spaces, enabling strangers to visit the same place for similar reasons and be fulfilled mentally and physically.
This fulfillment was something I was lucky to experience. In addition to visiting Ms.Gloria’s garden, I experienced the positive effects of gardening and green spaces in a different location. On my second day in New Orleans, I visited Louis Armstrong park. The entrance featured various plants and trees, and there was a large path through the trees that led to Congo Square. The Square is a historic site of resistance where enslaved people gathered to share their traditions, sing, and dance. It’s a space that’s dedicated to honoring ancestry and sharing a social space. As a Black woman visiting New Orleans, it felt pleasing to be in a space that’s dedicated to honoring ancestry, identity, and memory. The day I visited I witnessed a drum circle, and I was invited to join in a dance circle along with other members of their band who were dancers. I was also welcomed to visit the ancestry tree, which was described as a site to honor your ancestors and leave offerings. It was an empowering experience to be a part of, and the nature surrounding Congo Square contributed to my experience. Combining green spaces, physical activity, and social interaction is reported to be an enjoyable type of therapy and exercise (Thompson). Spaces like Congo Square are necessary for communities because they simultaneously honor the history of previously enslaved people in New Orleans, and provide an open space for people to collectively enjoy nature.
Works Cited:
Thompson, Richard. “Gardening for health: a regular dose of gardening.” Clinical medicine (London, England) vol. 18,3 (2018): 201-205.
Tolliver-Jackson, Laura Jazmin. “Why Black People Are Turning to Gardening during Difficult Times.” The Palm Beach Post, Palm Beach Post, 29 June 2020, https://www.palmbeachpost.com/story/news/coronavirus/2020/06/29/why-black-people-are-turni ng-to-gardening-during-difficult-times/41743333/.
By pushing and encouraging a private sector in relation to healthcare, dislocation and displacement of Black and low-income individuals was evident. Charity Hospital had previously been accustomed to the idea of closure and rebranding in the twentieth century. It is no surprise that for many years individuals had attempted to distinguish Charity Hospital’s focus on accessible healthcare and prioritize capitalism. Dating back to the 1990’s, The Louisiana Health Care Authority (LHCA) possessed immense power over many charity hospitals– what initially was an attempt to “modernize and replace” (thesis page number 38) hospitals soon warped into an attempt to rebrand the hospital entirely. The LHCA declared that in order for Charity Hospital to reach its fullest potential in terms of modernization and quality of care, the removal of the word “charity” from the hospital name was necessary. It can be deduced that the LHCA’s attempt to remove the word “charity” from the hospital’s name was embedded in institutional racism in hopes of creating and transforming the space into a “white, middle-class space” (Lovell 260). To remove the word “charity” from the hospital’s name is to deny and refuse care to marginalized identities living in New Orleans that relied on the care that the hospital provided. In addition to this, many citizens felt close ties to Charity Hospital and felt a sense of community with other’s who were born in the hospital. Lovell mentions one group that named themselves “Charity Hospital Babies” (260) and how these individuals possessed momentum in terms of reclaiming identity and making meaning of their existence in a society that wouldn’t allow for it otherwise. Lovell states, “Charity Hospital Babies, rooted in popular history, embody a cycle of birth, life, and death at that public hospital, while simultaneously linking the individual body to the city as body” (265). With this in mind, it can be further understood how individual’s align themselves with the location in which they were born and how the removal of this physical space weighs heavily on an individual’s sense of self. More on this can be explored through Nicole Fleetwood’s article titled Failing Narratives, Initiating Technologies: Hurricane Katrina and the Production of a Weather Media Event,
“…those with limited social networks and financial means, the most secure place to be in times of crisis is home. The safety associated with one’s domestic environment takes on heightened relevance in postindustrial urban areas with neglected infrastructural systems” (782).
Individuals were not able to leave the space they inhabited due to a variety of reasons– whether it be financial burden, lack of access to transportation, or personal ties to the space and the people they knew. In addition to this, structural inequities exist that prevent individuals from leaving the area. For example, some individuals felt as if there was immediate access to medical care. In the same article, Fleetwood mentions how the Superdome in Louisiana cared for individuals that were described as being “special needs populations” (782). It can be deduced that there were a multitude of reasonings for individuals to remain in New Orleans throughout Hurricane Katrina; some of which were personal justifications and some simply due to the inequities that exist in society. In addition to this, society perpetuated the idea that the safest place to remain throughout the storm was at home due to the fact that there were intrapersonal relationships that individuals had with other citizens and they were able to forge a sense of being while remaining at home.
Art, both public and studio based/personal, is a device used by communities in New Orleans to remember the events prior to, during, and after Katrina. The art is also simultaneously used as a method of healing the trauma and negative emotions that remain in communities whose lives were deeply affected by the natural disaster and lack of government support after the event.
Nik Richard and Monica Rose Kelly’s piece titled, “The Spirit of Lower Mid-City,” lines the street’s median outside of The University Medical Center. The area used to be the home of Charity hospital, a medical center that stood for the underserved citizens of the Lower Mid-City section of New Orleans. The artists selected to present their story through steel-cut sculptures. The story details the events before, during, and after Katrina highlighting stories of rescue and perseverance through the incredibly destructive hurricane. Inventive aspects of the public art piece shows the overtaking of Charity Hosptial and the destruction of the community around it. Through the piece, viewers discover that The University Medical Center replaced Charity Hospital under the guise of Katrina. Homes and the hospital were being rebuilt and on their way to being cleared for use when a bar went across the front doors. People were fired and evicted to make room for the multi-million dollar medical industry.
The piece is a memorial not only for the events of Katrina and the stories of loss and struggle but for the entire community that was torn down by corporate greed. The metal carvings are a subtle and intricate way of ensuring the Lower Mid-City community is not entirely lost from the area.
This article provides information on the artists of the metal sculptures and their motivations behind the installation. The article also provides information on Charity Hospital and the hospital that now stands in its place along with information on the transformation from the old hospital system to the new system.
For more information on Monica Rose Kelly, visit her website. Information on more pieces she has worked on and created can be found on this site. People for Public Art is a foundation created by Monica Rose Kelly to provide financial support and artists for public art projects focusing on healing and celebration in New Orleans. People for Public Art’s site gives more details on the non-profit’s mission and more work they have completed since its foundation. Nik Richard’s website provides more information on his previous and current projects. His site provides methods of reaching him via Instagram and email and includes a tab with his completed visual works.
Fourteen paintings have a specific moment in time captured. All of the moments are memories of the things that came out of Hurricane Katrina’s destructive path. Most of the paintings in the collection by Rolland Golden are social critiques of the neglect experienced in New Orleans. One piece titled, “Throw Me A Line Mister,” shows a helicopter that is passing over the outstretched hands of citizens who are very obviously struggling to survive after their homes and neighborhoods have been destroyed by high winds and flooding. The helicopter stands as a place holder for the government agencies and relief programs that failed to provide timely help to communities that experienced high levels of poverty even before the natural disaster.
Golden’s paintings can be found in the New Orleans Museum of art. They tell a visual story of tragedy and loss with several frames having foregrounds that depict flooded streets and homes. They stand as a reminder of the extent of the destruction Katrina caused and the lack of aid experienced by NOLA communities in the years following the disaster. The Historic New Orleans Collection has more information on the paintings in Golden’s Katrina collection.
Charity Hospital, better known to New Orleans locals as “Big Charity,” is located at 1532 Tulance Avenue New Orleans, Louisiana. This hospital served as a resource to the low-income population, residents of color, and any individual who did not possess insurance in the Lower Mid-City area. The hospital was well known for it’s dedication to fostering and curating a space that encouraged learning that would not otherwise be feasible for marginalized identities. As previously mentioned, Charity Hospital was overtaken post-Hurricane Katrina by the creation of the multi-million dollar University Medical Center, LCMC Health, the Veterans Affair Hospital, and the LSU Medical Center. This shift that prioritized privitization left the Lower Mid-City community shaken and in disarray– without access to affordable medical care otherwise, it only amplified segregation through ulterior means in a space that was already deeply segregated.
Charity Hospital, 1532 Tulane Avenue. Unidentified. COURTESY OF THE HISTORIC NEW ORLEANS COLLECTION
Prioritizing Privatization
Charity Hospital derived its existence from The Daughters of Charity, a group of religious women that focused on paving the path towards spiritual healing through “saving souls.” In 1931, Huey Long, the governor of Louisiana, pushed for accessible and affordable health care at Charity Hospital. The hospital focused on providing accessible care, Anne Lovell states in Debating Life After Disaster: Charity Hospital Babies and Bioscientific Futures in Post-Katrina New Orleans how, “most of the New Orleans area low-income, uninsured care took place in Charity Hospital inpatient facilities” (259). Individuals even described Charity Hospital as a “medical safety net” (Lovell 259) and discussed how the incorporation of the GNOBED facilities would lead to shifting health care to prioritize privitization, which would only further cause inequities in the area. With this in mind, it is important to discuss the demographics within New Orleans pre-Hurricane Katrina and post-Hurricane Katrina– according to Herve Leleu in Renovating Charity Hospital or Building a New Hospital in Post-Katrina New Orleans: Economic Rationale versus Political Will, the Black population of New Orleans shifted from 67% to 60% while the white population increased from 28% to 33% (93). The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina showed the lack of regard towards Black individuals that lived in New Orleans, specifically how the construction of new multi-million dollar medical facilities have long term ramifications on the individuals living in the neighborhood. For example, Leleu states, “…thus [citizens living in the mid-city neighborhood] incur costs without achieving any benefit in the course of the new hospital’s construction” (93). Leleu also discusses how many individuals believed there was no immediate need to rebuild Charity Hospital post-Katrina due to the fact that a public hospital was no longer needed. This can be explored through understanding the intersection between public and private sectors. In order to save money to allocate funds towards the construction of the new hospitals, thousands of hospital workers were layed off. Many individuals were left to fend for themselves once being layed off and in addition to this, they were already struggling with the ramifications of Hurricane Katrina. This further exacerbates the lack of regard towards residents living in this area. Leleu mentions how, “Patients, predominantly the African American population and the poor, accustomed to going to CHNO for treatment now face the prospect of a new health care location, not knowing where to go, or having to travel greater distances” (93).