While revisiting When The Levees Broke I struggled with a question–where does African-American history end and American history begin? Is there a difference and if so, where do the two intersect?
The answer should be that you can’t separate the two–African-American history is American history and American history tells the story of the American people regardless of their race. In turn, American history belongs to all the people of the world as part of our collective history. A scar inculcated on any land belongs to us all and it is our duty as a global community to heal that scar. The devastation of Hurricane Katrina effected all Americans but those residents of Louisiana were hit the hardest. The efforts to restore the land and the lives have been slow-moving and in turn disappointing.
Louisiana has the second largest African-American population (first is Mississippi which also suffered from Katrina) and sits as an epicenter of cultural history. Due to it’s large cargo port, Louisiana symbolizes not only a fluid exchange of culture as a point of entry for those immigrating into or exchanging goods with America but a site of passage to many enslaved people in the 19th century. As a result, Louisiana is a mecca for American culture and history and as Katrina pounded down on Louisiana this had nightmarish effects on the national community.
It would be ignorant to ignore the racialized (and classed) aspect of the trauma–the language that permeated the discussions surrounding the victims and their loss, the unimpressive response to human suffering and environmental upheaval shown by the government and the inability to look upon those who lost their homes as victims and not as burdens of the state. It was as if the decades of preaching accountability and “one nation united under god indivisible” were abandoned. It became all too clear that government “protection” was a fallacy and the paternalistic image of America had been torn away to expose a fatherless nation, vulnerable and suffering.
Another question I have encountered while studying hinges upon ownership of history–who can tell history and who can claim ownership of that history? In order to write about Louisiana, must I preface it with my own ties to the land?And more pointedly, how do I handle speaking about communities I am not a part of? If my ties aren’t immediate, should I proceed with caution? I see it as my responsibility to give what I have to give, which is my own educational experiences and resources that allow me to spend my time blogging about the things I have been exposed to. I think we should all question ourself as we dig into history–this is a sure sign that you are interacting with your subject.
Anyway, I am trying to get back on track with the keeping of this blog. I stumbled a bit in the last week but I look forward to picking up where I left off since I believe that the point of this is worth it.
