A mildly insane day.

In a flash of inspiration this morning, I realized that I wanted to do my final research paper for the Urban Geography of New Orleans on a memorial that stands at the entrance to the Lower Ninth Ward (pictured above). The memorial has always been a source of interest for me since I was informed that it was built by a "bunch of rich white people" and that the Lower Ninth Ward residents unanimously hated it. I've been looking into it more recently, and it turns out some of that information isn't correct. For example, several articles seem to imply that the designer, David Lee, is a person of color (they don't specify of what origin). One article also mentioned many residents crying in appreciation at the unveiling of the memorial. Still, I've spoken to a resident who related that she avoids the memorial at all costs because it reminds her of the friends she lost to the storm. This brought me to an interesting question: How do Lower Ninth Ward residents react to this memorial? Does this piece of artwork change the way they move about their neighborhood? And thus, a question for a research paper was born.

In other news, the person I work under was "let go" today completely unexpectedly. I have no idea why. This leaves me as the only person in my department. I also have very little information (for example, where my volunteers are supposed to be going tomorrow). This all happened in the last half-hour of my day, so I really have no idea how it's going to turn out. More on all of this later.

Work itself was great. My Colorado volunteers and I met our homeowner. She was incredibly sweet; she brought us cookies, chips, water, and juice to the work site and wouldn't cease telling us how grateful she was. We prayed with her and her sister at the end. I had the pleasure of sitting with her on her newly built porch as I waited for the project manager to pick me up. She told me about how she is at peace over losing her house (it was entirely uprooted and destroyed by the storm) because, after all, "it's just stuff." As I told my dad about this experience later on the phone, he remarked, "that's what you came for." Excuse my bragging, but the man is brilliant, and he was certainly spot-on in this case. (Dad. . .I miss you.)

I've had a great time bonding with the Colorado group. Their energy and curiosity often reminds me of my own youth group. I find myself getting a little motherly with them, urging them to drink water and shielding their eyes while I spray their faces with sunscreen. (Mom. . .I miss you.)

The newsletter is going much better. I've been consolidating what I've created while concentrating on keeping the essential parts of the newsletter there. It's difficult; I'm used to organizing words, thoughts, and meanings, but certainly not images. Though I enjoy color and images, I've never been asked to format them in a pleasing-yet-professional way, and it's certainly proved to be a new challenge.