Definition of hard work...Katie DeLeo

Up until this week I used to consider vacuuming the pool in the summer sun, or pulling up weeds up around my house was hard, strenuous work. My definition of those two words has flipped completely. The days have all seemed to blend so I can not describe each day but I can tell you that I have sanded a whole ceiling two days in a row, gutted a whole room infested with black mold (both of which needed respirators and safety goggles), cleaned out a yard that has over grown for years and had been crawling with cockroaches, lizards, ants, and worms, made a 15 foot pile of compost, painted the exterior of a house, and tore up around some of the biggest stumps I have ever seen. That to me redefines hard work and dedication. I can no longer find it within myself to complain about one single task I have completed this week.
While completing all these I thought that the day was never going to end, but looking at the progress and change that was made, helped me realized that all the hard work, gallons of sweat, and loads of frustration is more than rewarding and I would not ask for any easier work in a million years.
But if my parents are reading that does not mean I am going to come home and dive into everything that has not been done yet!
This trip is definitely life changing I do not want to leave, but at the same time I am happy to come back home and take all the skills and new experiences and put them to great use around locally. Love you all and see you soon enough!

Painting, the group, and more. (Allison)

Over the past few days I have continued painting the house I originally started on. It is really nice to see the progress we have made, and now the house is almost done. I have really enjoyed working with everyone to put the hard work into that house because now it looks so beautiful.

Besides working we have been doing many other things, like going into the city, playing four square, or just talking. The group has really come together and really supports each other. It is nice to be working with the group to get all of these different projects done. Everyone supports each other, works hard, and is having a lot of fun doing things that most people would consider boring, or tiring (like composting, or digging up stumps, or cleaning the floor after dinner).

Overall this trip has been a great experience, and I cannot tell you how many people are upset we are leaving so soon. Even though we have been waking up at 6:30 every morning, and working all day, and going to bed really late everyone is having the times of our lives, and we all want to have a lot more time here.

Pictures of "US"

Hello everyone! Thank you for reading the students blogs. You have amazing kids! If you want to see some pictures, United Saints has posted them on their facebook page. Go to www.fbook.me/unitedsaints or search for United Saints 1st St. Recovery.

Ms. Osowski :)

Where I need to Be--Laurel Haines

Today I was working at David Leonard's house. We had a relatively large group there, and we were all scraping, sanding, cleaning, priming...and doing whatever needed to be done for the final coat of purple paint to be put on the house. Although I had a great time and a lot of fun, I felt frustrated. I pondered for awhile and was not about to find the source of my unhappiness. However, I realized that I felt so so so insignificant. There are so many houses demolished by hurricane Katrina...and so many houses that aren't even houses; they are just empty concrete slabs where a house once stood. I see these things and so much more and I wish I am so much bigger than I am... That way I could make a bigger difference. But I can't...I am who I am and I am where I am. It was hard for me to paint today for some reason because I kept thinking about all the other empty slabs. The city could fine a house for having an unsatisfactory paint job. But then I think of the houses half rotten with no paint jobs. I wish I could be so many places at once. They all need help. David Leonard and his family still needed us to repaint their house. People keep saying to me this week that you are where you need to be. I needed to be there...and there....and there...oh and there too. I just can't though...but I was where I needed to be...which was helping. One house at a time is all anyone can do, and helping in one way or another is what we are here to do. I am not a superhero, nobody is unfortunately. So I just try to work to do whatever needs to be done. Well, that was the epiphany I had today. I am so overjoyed that our group is here working together, doing whatever we can no matter what. Not once have i heard someone say that they can't do that because-oh it's gross, or nope too hard. So thank you everyone for all your hard work, determination and teamwork. Together we can make a difference despite the fact that we are all only one individual. We are where we need to be which is now in the present helping, so thank you everyone.

The Lost Children -- Casey L.

At first, I was a little bit disappointed about the work I did yesterday. I went to OSABG for a conference, ate some of their home-grown food, only helped a bit with moving some materials, and then I turned around and went to the French Quarter to learn about the city. At first it felt like I hadn't done anything worthwhile, but then I remembered Bre, a girl that I had spent my two days at OSABG talking to. She's a bit of a brat, but honestly I don't blame her, not after spending a long time talking to her and learning about her life. Talking to Bre (who's only 8) reminded me of a kid I met last year named Lazyharus. Lazy, as I fondly called him, was living with his aunt next to Mamma Gaines last year after both his parents died due to violence and then his second guardian, an uncle, had died of a heart attack. Lazy didn't feel at home with his aunt, her two kids, and her abusive boyfriend, but it was the only home he had. All he wanted was to become a lawyer to help people like himself when he grew up and I remember worrying that he'd never even have the chance. Worst of all, I tried to keep in touch with him, but all my letters remained unanswered. And when we visited his old house earlier this week, Lazy and his family were nowhere to be found.

Talking to Bre yesterday caused the same feelings I have/had about Lazy to resurface. She's only in 4th grade, but she's currently suspended from school for fighting. Back home, almost no younger kids get suspended and even fewer get suspended for violence like that. Bre also has a scar on her chest from some medical procedure (I'm guessing a central line or some sort of open chest surgery). She goes to a bad school, lives in a bad neighborhood, and knows plenty of very bad kids. She's only eight. Eight.

On top of all that, she wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up. It bothers me that I even doubt her ability to achieve her goal, just like I did with Lazy a little less than a year ago. If a kid at home said that he or she wanted to be a vet, I'd believe in them without a doubt. But Bre doesn't have the opportunities we have back home or the support system to push her in the right direction. I feel heartbreak for her, just like I felt for Lazy and it's beyond hard to relive those emotions. I worry that she won't make it and I worry that Lazy is dead or stuck in the system or being abused by his aunts boyfriend.

Bre is my new "lost child"; another kid that I've "collected" (as some one put it at reflection last night) on my journeys here. She is another kid to worry about and feel guilty about since I'll never have to deal with have the stuff she has to deal with.

When I talked about Bre at reflection last night, one of the girls in our group said that what I said made her think about the annoyance and anger she had felt towards Bre during the day. Someone else told me later that they liked what I said. I only mention this because I'm happy two of my teammates thought and felt about what I said. This is what needs to happen. I need to share the worry I feel, for my own sanity and because it isn't fair and we aren't grateful enough. If I could change one thing about Massachusetts I'd make everyone more grateful. We complain about teachers and homework and AP classes. But instead we should be happy that we even have the opportunity to complain. We have a school with teachers that care enough to push us. We have safe homes to do our homework in and the means to make us so busy that homework gets pushed aside sometimes. And we have schools that can afford to teach AP classes instead of just the basics.

If there is one thing that the New Orleans program has taught me, it's that we have it good. There are so many screwed up things about this world and it's time to open our eyes to the bad stuff, even if only to understand just how lucky we are.

Hopefully, if everyone does that, then there will be less "lost children" in the future.

Tony's House. Meghan T

Today I went to a guy named Anthony's house. It was my favorite work day yet. His house had chipped and peeling paint and was going to get a $150 fine and then everyday after that a $500 fine until he fixed/painted the house. Tony is elderly and lives with his wife and two adorable dogs. He is on oxygen and there is absolutely no way that he would ever get his house painted without us and United Saints. I was on a roof all morning with Meg Hannah and Peter scraping paint and sanding and painting. It was scary but really really fun. We did such a great job the house does not even look the same. I'm really proud of everyone that was there for their hard work. I'd like to see Louisianna fine them for that house now.

Gospel (Gwen)

This morning, we drove over the Claiborne Bridge into the Lower Ninth Ward, watching the houses and the emptiness rise out of the mist. We'd found a radio station that plays gospel music on Sunday mornings, and the five of us in the van all stayed wrapped in our own thoughts. The voices rang slow, honest and raw, singing about seeking comfort in Mary a long way from home. I'm a long way from home. Residents of the Lower Ninth are still a long way from home- even the few who've returned.

Since part of our group attended a gospel service this morning, religion has been a topic of discussion all day. Personally, I've never been much for traditional Christian theology; as a Unitarian Universalist, my beliefs tend towards humanism. As a result, lyrics about reaching out to the Virgin Mary didn't mean so much to me on a personal level. But underlying the religious overtones was a feeling of loneliness and homesickness that is so intensely human that it transcends boundaries of culture, belief and geography. Singing our souls out, unloading our pain together, reaching out for comfort- it doesn't matter the medium, these are all essential parts of being human. The structures slid by, home after abandoned home, new construction, vacant lots, the endless, endless loss. My eyes filled with tears for a moment, and I was glad for the quiet place within the voices where I could take a minute just to grieve.

Sometimes a part of our task here is to let the magnitude of it all wash over us; to grieve. After we've been overwhelmed and come out the other side, we gain the strength we need to fix it.

As the song ended, we arrived at Blair Grocery, where we heard a gospel of a different sort. They believe as strongly as I do in the dignity and value of every person, and their vision and passion for creating a place for that dignity in an unjust world is contagious. Their method of creating social justice through community organizing, education and food was yet again just what the doctor ordered, and I left feeling vitalized.