Sinaloa Tread Not Trudge
there is a story in each room, door to door. battered
and torn, still doesn't erase what was here. from
street to street, we walked in arms, from lizardi to
congress, finger to finger. these seeds will grow into
fields, into a beauty that always lived here. hope
within these walls, within a people who know, know no
boundaries. swim these waters, tread with head held
high. share your sorrows and struggles. hearts that
have been sunken deep, this is where it lives and
breathes. these waters ripple in each soul who enters,
stir like new beginnings, with a hope so strong.
explanation
in the summer of 2006 i had the opportunity to help
lead a group of teenagers down to new orleans,
louisiana to help in the aftermath of hurricane
katrina. to truly explain the experience would be
impossible. from helping to gut houses, to meeting the
people who lived in the area and were planning on
moving back, was an eye opening experience. almost a
year later from the storm, and from the lay of the land
you would have thought it had just happened. most of
the areas were ghost towns. we'd enter abandoned houses
with clothes and furniture strewn across each room,
walls covered with mold and watermarks that were close
to the ceiling. upon entering each house i couldn't
help but think how we were trespassing through
someone's belongings. to have everything that was once
so personal to someone, emptied throughout the house,
destroyed. remnants of a life that took place within
each room. yet, all we could do was make piles to be
sorted or eventually trashed. however, when we met the
people who lived in these houses, they had a way to
them, a sincerity, strength and hope that they would
continue to move on, that this disaster would not stop
them. it really put things in perspective, to hear
stories and see the people of new orleans (and all
areas effected by katrina) push forward and reclaim
their lives.
