Third World and Sad

There's a tongue-in-cheek bumper sticker you see on some cars around here that at once proclaimed the distinct and independent spirit of New Orleans while also displaying the racism that undergirds so many of the euphemisms here. It read: "New Orleans: Third World and Proud."

Well, today on an airplane trip into New Orleans I was reminded of how much truer that bumper sticker has become. Our plane was filled the brim with kids in a Christian youth mission. They've come down here to save us (they're t-shirts said something like "Rebuild, Renew, Blah, Blah, Blah). Now don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see folks coming to New Orleans: to see what happened, to help, to spend their money, to tell their friends and family and congresspeople and president about what they've seen and what they haven't seen. But I fear, like much of this kind of mission tourism, that their sense of their own good works excuses the larger forces at play and the reasons why their efforts are needed. The U.S. federal government should be sending down people (and employing locals): workers, builders, bureaucrats, the whole nine yards. They broke the city, they should pay for it. And that's the problem with so much of the mission work is happening in New Orleans and in the rest of the world: it obscures the larger social, economic, and political story behind a much more palatable one about charity.

So to the missions: Thanks. We need the help. But don't forget to let the dirt bags know what's what. To go home and ignore what has happened and just tell folks, "Oh those poor people; but at least we helped" is actually just turning a blind eye. Keep your eyes open.