Examining the Racism of Individuals and Institutions in Hurricane Katrina's Aftermath

10.10.15

     Joni Seager argues that ever since Hurricane Katrina came ashore, “it’s been a human disaster all the way.” I used to think that natural disasters were simply that: natural. Their consequences were unavoidable, their reach inescapable, their brutality   non-discriminatory. However, after taking a closer look at the storm, I realize that there is truth in Seager’s claim. Katrina, in stripping away all semblances of order, demonstrated the flaws not only in our social structures but also our government. Its intensity forced us to reexamine the way American society functions: specifically, the way individual and institutional racism perpetuate each other in a vicious cycle throughout the nation.

     The racism of individuals in New Orleans was made clearly visible after Katrina. As the water levels rose, so did the paranoia of many white residents in the city. The chaos not only heightened their preexisting racial biases, but also provided the perfect cover under which these biases could grow into something monstrous. In his investigative piece, “Katrina’s Hidden Race War”, A.C. Thompson describes the way this was seen in the Algiers Point community, which was left relatively undamaged. Several of its residents banded together not in order to provide aid to their fellow citizens but to target any black people who they deemed as a threat to their property. Their hatred of African Americans was made obvious through their shootings of innocent victims, who they referred to as “niggers”, “hoodlums”, and “outlaws”. One local made it crystal clear that he considered black people to be less than human by describing the situation as “pheasant season... if it moved, you shot it.”    Another resident said that for her uncle, “the opportunity to hunt black people was a joy.”

     The media also did nothing but exacerbate the already-thriving racial tension through their coverage. For example, Mayor Ray Nagin told Oprah that the Superdome was full of “hundreds of gang members” (Thompson). Such portrayals of black people as looters and thugs, in contrast to sympathetic characterization of white people as victims simply trying to survive, drew clear lines between the races and encouraged the kind of discriminatory behavior displayed by the vigilantes of Algiers Point.

     This proof of racism in American citizens is inexcusable, and, for those who aren’t exposed to it on a regular basis, truly shocking. It begs the question: are human civilizations unavoidably filled with the evils of prejudice? Who is to blame for this deeply rooted aspect of American culture? The answer lies within the fact that it does have deep roots in our history. The foundations of racial division upon which this nation was built endure within our institutions, and this played a significant role in determining who was affected in the storm and how.

     The African-American population was already a vulnerable one, and Katrina was the tipping point: the nation had to start paying attention to its problems. In his book, Come Hell or High Water, Michael Eric Dyson delves into the history of black New Orleans and reveals why the racialized minority was hit so hard. Many poor blacks did not have the resources to comply with evacuation warnings, nor the necessities for surviving the storm when they stayed home. Michael Brown of FEMA, who “blamed the poor for staying behind and drowning”, completely ignored the obstacles that blocked their path to safety (Dyson 6). A major one was the fact that 27 % of New Orleans’ black residents had no cars. This suggests that they lived in areas of concentrated poverty, in neighborhoods that followed “a distressing pattern of rigid segregation.” Their schools were poor, and funding would be further cut in response to low test scores, continuing a system in which black children did not receive platforms that could boost them to academic achievement. Combined with the effects of concentrated poverty, such as high crime levels, worsening mental and physical health of the poor, and less job opportunities, this insufficient education led straight to low-paying jobs or even prisons.

     This combination of inferior education and lack of economic opportunity thrived in certain parts of New Orleans. Dyson argues that these conditions resulted from “decades of public policies and political measures that [isolated] black households in neighborhoods plagued by severe segregation and economic hardship.” This isolation is reflected in the decline in African-American contextual mobility, or “moves significant enough to change circumstances and opportunities” (Gladwell). Poor black citizens were stuck in these cycles due to the structures present in the U.S. that kept them from attaining a higher quality of life. For many, it meant they were also stuck when disaster hit.

     But perhaps the most depressing truth Katrina brought to light was the reason behind the strength of our race issues. If our minorities were faced with simply individual prejudice, they could consult the police and government for aid. If it were only the authorities that were unjust, then the people could band together to reverse the system. It is when citizens and institutions are both problematic that oppression becomes overwhelming and change seems improbable.

     This intersection appeared several times in the aftermath of the hurricane. The shootings at Algiers Point, in fact, were amongst these occurrences. The New Orleans Police Department condoned the unjustified actions of the militia, advising the vigilantes to kill and “[leave]... bodies on the side of the road” (Thompson). Their careless attitude towards black lives was also made evident in their decision not to investigate any of the murders that happened there. Although witnesses and evidence were available, no one was arrested. Furthermore, some locals believed that even “if any of these cases went to trial… [they] [couldn’t] see a white person being convicted of any kind of crime against an African-American during that period” (Thompson).

     While racist criminals were getting away, innocent citizens were also being imprisoned, solely because they were minorities. Abdulrahman Zeitoun, a law-abiding, Syrian-American man living in New Orleans at the time of Katrina, was arrested and taken to a makeshift jail named Camp Greyhound without even being read his rights (Eggers  218). When he asked why, he was told it was because he was a terrorist. Biases against Muslims, strengthened by 9/11, were faced by Zeitoun not only from people within his community but also from the government itself. This combination built a solid wall between minorities and their rights to justice.

     Kanye West famously declared on live television that “George Bush [didn’t] care about black people.” The validity of his sentiment could be argued against by providing alternative reasons for the Bush administration’s feeble response to Katrina. However, the fact does remain that much of the black community’s suffering was disregarded by fellow Americans and the government alike. Such ignorance has gone on for so long that the prejudice behind it has embedded itself into the very fabric of our society. As Michael Ignatieff explained, the storm did not uncover a revelation about how unjustly poor blacks have been treated; for  “the displaced people in the convention center and elsewhere”, this was a reality too glaring to be overlooked (Dyson 14). What it did was reveal was how little a minority’s citizenship could mean, even in the twenty-first century. Now, as our country continues to take baby steps towards equality, it is more important than ever that we are aware of the inequalities that prevail in different facets of our culture. It is only through acknowledging and resisting their existence that America will ever eradicate them.