Broken houses

I was having a private chat with a coworker after asking people in Slack if they knew of cities that made it easy for residents to get emergency help to fix their homes not specific to disaster funds. I was expressing frustration in the thread and said, “Can you imagine literally holding your house up with your bare hands yet it’s still caving around you, and someone gives you a list of websites to visit?” The coworker and I started to talk about the tension between doing the digital services work we do at Nava and wanting to be on the ground helping people. Sometimes or work doesn’t seem directly connected to helping people when they need it, even though that’s our mission and everything we do does meet that mission, somehow some way. Below is an essay of a response to my co-worker. I feel like it’s worth sharing with everyone.

I totally get the feeling that maybe you could be on the ground physically helping people. I’ve felt that way a lot in the past. I have neighbors that spend their weekends at mutual aid sites around the city, and I keep meaning to find out more. I also have a friend here who goes to the courthouse one afternoon a month to help support foster children and then checks in on them in their new homes to make sure things are going right. I want to do that too. At this point in my life my biggest blocker is time. I thought that was an issue before, but I have two kids now, and I find myself very busy with work—my days are a whirlwind from early AM until I go to bed.

All that said, I feel like the help my neighbor needs should come from the government, and they should organize it. We all pay taxes, and I want mine to go to supporting people in need. The only on-the-ground help I can offer right now is to see him and his situation and then pressure the gov to give him the help he needs.

I’m from LA where people weren’t rich, but nobody seemed in need per se. Then I lived in DC for 12 years where everyone I knew talked about social justice and creating equity, but most didn’t know what it meant to be broke. Finally, I’ve worked in “good gov” and civic tech since 2009, but I have never seen how badly people can have it until I moved down here to New Orleans. It’s terrible.

Like I said, my neighbor’s house is literally in two pieces. I’m looking at it as I type. It’s depressing and stressful to see from the outside, and he has to live in it! His house isn’t the only house in my neighborhood that I can’t believe people live in. There’s one house that I would swear is boarded up and abandoned post-fire, but nope, there’s a family living in there. I don’t think it has all of the walls or windows intact--I feel terrible saying this, but it’s a shack. There are a lot of shacks around here! It’s unbelievable that we see these conditions every day and expect people to be able to dig themselves out. We’ve lived in three places in NOLA. In the first place, there were people who would come to the door asking for money and would say it was for their grandkids’ formula. I gave money when I had it, but I was also uncomfortable with people coming to the door like that. It felt dangerous so sometimes I didn’t answer.

In this third place, people coming to the door asking for things is a regular occurrence. They want money and offer to work for it. Sometimes they say they need it for insulin, or to get a place to stay for the night. They also take food if I don’t have money to give, so I usually only give food. One guy came to the door recently and straight up asked for food-nothing else. He said he was broke. I don’t think he was lying. He had a smartphone, a nice bike, and he was dressed nicely, but literally had no money for food. So I packed up a big bag of fruit, boxes of macaroni and cheese, red beans (a New Orleans staple), random snacks I have for the kids, a bunch of Halloween candy, and some of the dinner we were having that night. He was thankful. I haven’t seen him since. Again, it’s a weird thing to have so many people coming to the door to ask for help, but they need it so I try to give it.

Seeing all these people with nothing and no support has made me incredibly proud of the work we do at Nava. I’ve worked on projects where the impact wasn’t obvious, and I’ve worked on projects where the work is user-facing and easy to see. We’re in a position to influence decisions that truly improve people’s lives. We can help the government meet people where they are, and help shift burdens away from people carrying too much weight on their shoulders as it is. Sorry for the literal essay. All of this is to say, you’re already doing enough. And you’re coming to this with all the right motivations. Thank you for seeing what I was saying about a list of websites. I’m still frustrated. But I’m going to keep trying.