My community looked past our differences after Harvey. I hope America can do the same.
PERSPECTIVE | We can find the helpers and join them, or let the moment pass us by with passive inaction
“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’” — Fred Rogers
This is the story of Hurricane Harvey.
Amid one of the worst natural disasters in recent U.S. history, we were surrounded by news coverage broadcasting courageous acts of kindness and compassion from helpers. Civilians from throughout the state of Texas, Louisiana and beyond brought their boats and risked personal safety to help save lives in our community.
Average Houstonians confined to their homes set up makeshift command centers via social media to lead rescue missions from their couch. First responders from across the country came to our community to support the search and rescue effort.
I’m married to a native South Louisianan and Hurricane Katrina survivor. I’ve heard my fair share of horror stories about the emotional distress hurricanes leave in their wake in addition to the havoc wreaked upon your home — a city you love. Still, it’s hard to understand this side of the storm’s impact until you’ve experienced it firsthand.
There are harrowing tales from the pregnant mother who left everything she had to escape rising flood water in the middle of the night. Or the picture of elderly Houstonians siting in waist deep water waiting to be evacuated. The fatigue from sleeping in your closet with your children and your dog through a night punctuated by hourly phone vibrations alerting you to nearby tornadoes.
In the aftermath of this tragedy, we have been surrounded by contagious acts of kindness and compassion by helpers from all walks of life. The outpouring of donations that enabled us in just four hours to set up a fully functioning shelter in my neighborhood high school for evacuees being pulled from boats 10 blocks away. A group of retired women and stay-at-home moms started a laundry service for the first responders who didn’t have a change of clothes after three days of active rescues. Faith-based community leaders opened their doors for us to collect, sort and distribute donations in the immediate aftermath of the storm. Individuals worked 10-hour days to drive evacuees from shelters to their homes or donation pick-up locations.
I already recognize a dividing line in our collective lives — pre-Harvey and post-Harvey.
Pre-Harvey, as a mother of two young children, I spent considerable time contemplating how to raise children in America’s current fractious and disheartening political climate.
How do I teach courage when our leaders have succumbed to petty, fruitless arguments about the most basic moral standards? How do I instill compassion in my children when we’re surrounded by hate filled rhetoric?
Then Hurricane Harvey hit.
Perhaps it took a disaster of this proportion to put into perspective the pettiness of our pre-hurricane differences. Or perhaps, our differences in perspective aren’t truly that different?
As families, we are driven at all times to provide safety and security for our loved ones. As individuals, we need a roof over our head and food on our table. We hope for a decent job to support our families and maybe afford us enough time and resources to pursue our passions outside of our chosen vocations. But all that I’ve witnessed through Harvey leads me to believe we also yearn for something more — a sense of belonging in our community and to feel as though we’re leaving a positive imprint on the world we live in.
Our response to tragedy defines us.
No one truly knows why events unfold the way they do, but these events all leave us with a conscious choice that we get to make. To find the helpers and join them, or let the moment pass us by with passive inaction.
As the Hurricane Harvey recovery effort continues to unfold over the coming weeks and months, my hope is that Houstonians can serve as a foil to our current political climate. An example of how we as Americans are capable of working together despite our differences.
Perhaps this disaster is a chance reminder of the core values that bind us together not just as Houstonians or Texans — but as Americans. Can we push ourselves to see beyond our differences and find some middle ground for the sake of our collective good?
It is incumbent on each and every one of us to evaluate how we can be our very best. Then look for the helpers and join them to rebuild and leave a positive imprint on our communities with our actions today.
What can you do today — in your community — to be a helper and make it a better place?
