qtakesnola

[qtakesnola]

The Blue Roofs

I realized recently that what I want to write about as a science communicator is mainly weather and natural disasters. The side effect of this (of many, I should say) is that it means devoting myself to a line of work where I'm constantly witnessing the dark side of Mother Nature. If you venture down to Grand Isle or the Houma Nation, you'll get your fix.

The second day of the trip, we drove from downtown to Port Fourchon. This port houses hundreds of inactive oil vessels and is the home to oil rigs as they pass inspection and before they are deployed into the Gulf. It's not the easiest sight to behold.

We met three key players of our trip down here. Leo Lindner survived the Deepwater Horizon explosion (he's not featured in the movie but you still watch it if you can get through it https://thelensnola.org/2020/04/21/grappling-with-meaning-10-years-after-macondo/). Sara Sneath is an environmental journalist based in New Orleans (https://southerlymag.org/author/sara-sneath/). Lastly, we drove down with a new Medill alum, Maggie.

Maggie is my age, having graduated from Medill last year. She's a New Orleans native. My clearest memory of Hurricane Katrina is taking canned goods into my second grade class for victims. For Maggie, her family evacuated and their home was destroyed. She attended a school further north for a year before returning to New Orleans.

Hurricane damage is a combination of every type of storm damage you can imagine. There's wind damage, water damage, ocean debris, plastic debris, shaken foundation, missing lives.

In my head, I knew Grand Isle would be hard to see. Maggie even warned us on our drive down: "brace yourself". In-person, it was more weird than anything. Weird to see houses upside down. Weird to see people living in trailers parked in their drive ways. Weird to see all of this destruction, tourist environment, wedged into one of the most oil rig-populated areas in the world. Grand Isle State Park is currently closed, but if you manage to peak up over the beach entrance, you see water. You see the entire Gulf of Mexico before you. On that Gulf, is dozens of wells within view. And it's only a few miles of view.

Louisianans have an inside joke. "If you see a structure with a blue tarp on its roof, you know the owner is an idiot. They're an idiot because they trusted FEMA".

FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency) has its origins back to the era of Jimmy Carter. It didn't become a prominent figure in natural disasters until the 1980s. Their ultimate goal is providing temporary housing and basic necessities to people who have been harmed by a disaster, however they may define the word.

The entire coast of Louisiana (I'm assuming the whole South, as well) is dotted with blue roofs. Maggie tells me that FEMA is quick to place these shiny tarps over structures and slow to provide long-term assistance. Some of the tarps I see are battered. Maggie tells me the oldest ones are 16 years old. Since Hurricane Katrina, FEMA still hasn't fixed them.

I'll write more about hurricanes and Grand Isle, that's a promise. There's so much to this region that is impossible to explain unless you're there with me. My biggest takeaways from this day, which ended up being my favorite day of the trip:

-Mother Nature is increasing her strength.

-She's not going to stop.

-I'm eternally grateful that my dad doesn't work on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico.

Photos and donation links below.

https://www.townofgrandisle.com/hurricane-ida-recovery/

https://healthygulf.org/get-involved/take-action/

Leo Lindner taught English before working on the Deepwater Horizon. He survived the explosion, but his best friend didn't.

A long bridge connects Grand Isle to the main land. In the background, you can see the tops of dozens of oil well machinery.

Grand Isle. No words.

[qtakesnola]

4 February 2022

Hi, I'm Quinn. If you were here two and a half-ish years ago in 2019 when I wrote about Amsterdam, welcome back! I appreciate your readership more than I can express. I learned during that experience how much I really love travel writing.

If you're entirely new here (my main blog has existed since 2009 and is off limits), welcome! Let me introduce myself and this blog.

I grew up an hour north of Pittsburgh, one of the United States' famously polluted cities. My dad is a hydrologist (water scientist) and my mom was voted "most against the system" in high school. If that doesn't tell you anything, here's a clue: I care deeply about this planet, and I like to rebel. Those personality traits are a deliciously dangerous combination.

After the Pandemic upended the rest of my undergrad, I graduated this past May with a Creative Writing and Publishing degree. Last summer, I started my MS in science writing at Northwestern University and moved to Chicago in September. It can be tricky finding good environmental science in the city, but that's half the fun.

My program is the Medill School of Journalism. Yes, it's a well-known name. Yes, it's got its issues. But, it's still a lot of what I dreamt it might be, and often more.

Next week, I get another taste of that "more" factor.

Medill Explores is one of the "highlights" of the program, as quoted by the Dean. It's a week off of classes and some travel to a new part of the world when students can produce a story from the field.

It was a tough choice, but I chose one of two expeditions to New Orleans, LA (NOLA). My trip, specifically, focuses on natural disaster relief and the human rights part of said disasters.

For about eight days, I'll stay in the French Quarter of NOLA with the other dozen students on the trip and two faculty members.

We've got a pretty packed schedule during the day and free time in the evenings. As with any good adventure, I prefer to be phone-less (or at least on airplane mode). I'm developing a project that dives into watershed science, wildlife loss, and oil spills. I want to help showcase how nasty industry can be to a coastline (see the rebel stuff?).

It sounds like a lot because it is. My personal goal is as little screen time as necessary (I'm leaving my laptop behind) and to have all senses tuned in.

I'm aiming to post some photos and a short reflection daily. It might be every two days. Or twice the whole trip.

Feel free to follow along and send a comment if you feel like it!