In the backyard we are first greeted by two massive dogs, Diamond and Buddy, pressing their faces and paws against the fence surrounding their pen, scuffling for attention and licking away at dozens of eager digits poking through the openings. A third and much smaller pooch appropriately named Monkey later makes a grand entrance during our hosts introduction. Out of the back door comes David, our Taskmaster for the week. He is tall and slender, with eyes that shine of both generosity and sincerity, and display a light blue glint which gives one a hint of the humble intellect pursuing a PhD in Agriculture. He gives a brief introduction and history of the building

It was the first African-American owned and operated business in the Ninth Ward, dating back to the mid 1900's. Apparently after the flood, Turner contacted theBlairs and was given permission for his venture. David led us out front and across the street to a freshly cleared lot which the school had recently purchased and where some of the group would subsequently be segmenting into plots for future homes of variety of greenery.

David proceeds with a further detailed recounting of neighborhood annals at this location, and informs us of all the snafus and snake pits encountered by the current andpre -Katrina residents attempting to rebuild their lives. They are similar to ones we would be hearing throughout the trip. For example, residents still abroad from the diaspora were being fined $500 for having their lawns unkempt and the local government threatens to seize these properties. Furthermore, a local good Samaritan who had been driving around cutting grasses probono was warned of various repercussions if he continued.

Once the history lesson and tales of woe are complete, David takes a few questions and then we head back to the garden and gear up to get dirty. Myself, Milli,Eyal, and Yoav volunteer to unload boxes of discarded Whole Foods products from Dandy (a dilapidated pick-up truck, which looks like it could very well have been sitting out front since before the storm itself). Then we were to separate them into several categories: chicken food, people food, dog food, trash, andcompostable goodies. This is done while tossing the compostable gems into a large metal wheelbarrow in which we get to dice away and spear, rather therapeutically, at the remains which we are using to make a new compost heap. The result was a giant fruit/flower/veggie salad which was usually pleasantly aromatic. Once,Eyal even managed to snag a perfectly ripened avocado, tomato, and cilantro leaf and enjoyed some jaw-mixed guacamole.

One of the other tasks was the endless cycle of shovelling compost from the matured pre-existing heaps onto a giant screen, and sifting it by hand picking out glass, trash, and large bits which hadn't fully decomposed to create usable topsoil. Other groups of people helped pot plants into the flower beds, divvy up the plots across the street, and play with Monkey to keep her entertained and mildly subdued.

After dumping mounds of chopped produce, my group takes a break and heads inside the doggy pen for some play time. Next, David asks for two of the 'less squeamish people,' and Eyal and I volunteer for this unknown task. We end up spending the next couple hours inside the chicken coop, scooping up chicken poop. And I thought cleaning kitty litter or bearded dragon droppings was kinda gross....I'll spare you the details. I did however get to hold and hug my first chickens. My last job of the day withEyal was uprooting cattails which had rampantly overgrown. Honestly, it was backbreakingly, hand-slicingly difficult and I would've rather been back in the chicken coop.

We vacate the grocery, repopulate the bus, and are given a firsthand account of what life was like growing up in the Ninth Ward by a third-generation resident, who was in the Spike Lee film with her mother and grandmother. Tanya Harris, the pleasantly boisterous tour guide, was an ex-ACORN member and now runs a new organization born from the ashes of a defunct local chapter. So not only was she able to provide details of life in the tight-knit community of the Lower Ninth, even driving us by her home and those of her family members, but she was also spouting knowledge of local politics, enumerating historical tidbits, and sharing anecdotes about interacting with Brad Pitt and his Make It Right foundation. We step out of the bus a number of times, including at one of the repaired levees near a bridge where residents were turned away at gunpoint in the days following the disaster. Another stop leaves us at the foot of one of the most colossal wooden decks I've ever seen. But when we reach the summit, the view is of a vast body of water known as BayouBienvenue which is riddled with gnarled tree stumps and a wall of dormant trees on the opposite shore. What catches my eye, and beckons me to sit on the bottom step closest to the water, is an overturned plastic deck chair protruding just out of reach of some rocks nearby. Tanya recounts memories of crab fishing in the waters with her grandfather and explains the causes of the unfavorable and potentiallyjeopardous state of the wetlands including over-salination and overgrowth and...I hear none of it.

I am wholly enveloped by this chair. The lake is brimming with blatant reminders of the vibrant life it once contained, but what affects me the most and absorbs all of my attention - is this chair. All I can hear in my head is a quote spoken in the documentary from the previous night where a woman mentions that New Orleans was once referred to as 'The city that care forgot.' Again, New Orleans was once referred to by its residents as The City That Care Forgot. I am inflamed. I am disconcerted. I am imagining myself removing my belt and fashioning an apparatus to retrieve this outstanding blemish on the lakes already scarred yet serene surface. I feel 'negatively reinforced' to take action against all of the injustices against all facets of this failed state - intangible, living, deceased, and inanimate. It will not be the first time on this trip where we are truly inspired and motivated to turn thought, intuition, and feelings into action. Our service induces learning. The knowledge is empowering. Empowerment can lead to future service, further action, leadership, and exponentially increased passion.

Later that night our programming includes discussions and reflection activities wonderfully led by Alon, Myla and Tovah. I find that these sentiments are experienced by many members in our party. We all engage in passionate dialogues and participate in a variety of exercises designed to improve active listening skills and speaking our minds.

A complaint often voiced by the local community is that organizations offering help, show up with an outsiders view of what they think would assist the community the most, without truly listening to their needs. Afterwards and throughout the week, we all constantly scheme ways to take action back home to positively impact our local community and continue to support Our School at Blair Grocery as well.

This is a post by Jamie Evan Cohen, a San Francisco student who was on a JFSJ service learning trip to New Orleans.

(This post is a continuation of the events which took place on Monday as listed in the post entitled Act 2.0)

I want to begin this blog with the word begin and the word start. I could talk about the beginning of my trip and everything I have done but what is most important is the city of New Orleans and how it began. There is so much history about the land and the people and as I walked around I could see it in their eyes. Everyone here wants to share their stories and take you on a journey to share their truths of New Orleans and what happened during Katrina. 

In the beginning of this trip, I was unaware about the hurricane and how strong of an effect it had on New Orleans. I knew this trip would be an eye opener but now as I sit on my sixth day here, my eyes do not shut. They are wide open with shock and dismay. It has been five years since Katrina and from what I have seen, not a lot has been done to rebuild New Orleans and make it a safe environment for the people who live here. Not only are the houses still in ruin but also the levies are not built strong enough for future hurricane conditions.

After seeing the Lower Ninth Ward, I didn’t think I could see anything worse. Then we kept driving and we saw more and more houses that looked just like the first one I saw. It wasn’t until I saw the levees that I really understood the hardship of the state of New Orleans. It was as if our country did not care about the land of Louisiana and the importance of the beautiful history of New Orleans. The reason New Orleans flooded was because the levees broke.

In 1927, it was certain that levees were blown up to flood the town of New Orleans during the hurricane. It was also speculated that in 1965, hurricane Betsy had levees blown up as well. There is no certain truth to what happened in hurricane Katrina but I believe the levees were not strong enough.

I don’t like looking at the negatives I have seen in New Orleans but the truth is, it is the reality. There is so much support this state needs. For example, education for the children needs to be improved. I met one of the students of “Our School at Blair Grocery,” the uplifting place we are volunteering at. The student I met was captivating as she read a fiction story she wrote and told us stories of her experiences during Katrina. She is extremely bright and she told me she loves the school here. As I watched her tell her stories, a feeling of hope ran through me. At that point I knew that the volunteer work we were doing is for an extremely good cause. We have been doing farm work to build crops for the community grocery store.

There are positives in New Orleans. The main positive I see is love, strength, and community. I gained an understanding of this through volunteering at the grocery store and listening to Tanya, one of our tour guides. Tanya showed us her house in the lower ninth ward and her mom’s house near by as well as her friend’s house. The loving community I see gives me a sense of hope that gradually this community can strive for success. Our School at Blair Grocery is building up to begin and strengthen this community.

The sense of beginning I feel is a slow process of an inspiring rebuilding. Our SF Hillel has been helping New Orleans rebuild but we have been building a community for ourselves as well. We have become close and inspired with each other and we want to help our environment and community back home.

I could go on and on about how amazing this experience is and how much I have learned from my peers, the staff, and New Orleans but I have to stop and help out with growing some yummy crops. I’m going to end this blog with the word I started with. “Begin” because there is always a chance for a new beginning for the people and the land of New Orleans. 

-This post is by Julena Ariel Cone, San Francisco State Student, who is currently a participant on a JFSJ service learning trip in New Orleans

Service Learning - [sur-vis lur-ning] The combination of direct service with reflection on the root causes and relevant issues which are related to the volunteer assignment through direct contact and work in the community as well as critical reflection, service learning participants gain invaluable insight into the nature and nuances of social issues.

-paraphrased from a JFSJ handout

Every morning at 7:15, a trio of chefs du jour arrive at the communal meeting room, decide how to arrange the tables for the morning meal - usually two perpendicular or parallel, and the third table serving double duty as a breakfast bar and make-a-sandwich station for bagged lunches. This morning, after lugging myself across the street, I entered the multi-purpose room at 7:30, groggily greeted and thanked Yoav, Elianna, and Rachel for orchestrating this particular mornings buffet.

Just before 8:30 we are shuffled outside and load onto a massive, white, 20-ish seater minibus driven by a relatively soft spoken yet pleasant and mild mannered driver who cheerfully introduces herself as Latoya, or more informally, Ms. T. Excitement abounds as we embark on our way to the School at Blair Grocery, with a slight detour in order to provide a better tour of what is known as the Lower Ninth Ward.

Shock ripples across the inside of our bus as we approach a graveyard of concrete slabs where whole neighborhoods once existed and have since been abandoned and wilting foliage has been allowed to run rampant. Some still show signs of what once existed - a set of concrete steps leading to an invisible doorway; a large lapus-lazuli tiled corner of what was probably a second story bathtub lies in shambles surrounded by the weeds.

Some of the houses still miraculously standing appear to be in competition for shaming the Tower of Pisa. Others look as though they were damaged just last week. Homes which were once situated literally every six feet, now sparsely populate the landscape. And even within those houses, we have learned that few families have afforded their return.

When we turn the corner towards the once community grocery store-turned schoolhouse/community garden (more of a farm, really), the first thing I notice are two full size school buses, with decorative paint splashed on the exterior which was largely tattooed with the logo NY2NO.org. We would later learn that mastermind behind the School at Blair Grocery, Turner, was once a public school teacher in New York, and had inspired his students to initiate a program at their high school for frequent trips to New Orleans and these buses are their local transportation.

Nearly everyone immediately grasps around for their respective cameras or cellphones and begin the photo documentation of our work to be done and its location.  Some of which I'm sure will be posted soon. We pass through the small gate and onto the sidewalk adjacent the garden, slowly making our way around the back of the building towards the coupled chicken coop and goat pen.

To be continued...

This is a post by Jamie Evan Cohen, a San Francisco student who was on a JFSJ service learning trip to New Orleans.