Training: Other opportunities
Partnerships continue to be a mainstay of the Whole Schools Initiative affording opportunities for training and events that might otherwise not be possible.
Post-Katrina workshop
The recent post-Katrina partnership of the New York based arts education organization DreamYard and the WSI brought high school students, their teachers and the artist facillitators into a place of full circle reflection.
Visit katrinaproject.homestead.com to view the sights and sounds of the workshop.
Read the quotes, monologues and poetry from those workshops. Gramatical corrections were not inserted into the submitted work, it appears here in orginal form.
“If in fact art is the interpretation of life, then we will all be blessed in the years to come from the interpretations forthcoming from the devastation dealt our beloved gulf coast. Much of the story will be told by those who came, contributed and were impacted for life, while some will come from within. The coming together of the two — my interpretation of the DreamYard work here — makes the “living through” this tragedy almost bearable. I will never walk on my own stretch of beach with the same history, the same memory or as the same person. Being changed is where I find some of my spirituality.”
Thanks.
-Malcolm
“Good People,
I don’t know where to begin, because it is so hard to put into words what I am feeling. I am both saddened by the destruction and amazed by the resilient spirit of the people of south Mississippi. I feel honored to have been a part of something so special and I feel guilty for having received so much in return. I am warmed by the hugs, the words of affirmation, the smiles but my heart also breaks for those I know who are still sleeping on
the ground.
I want to thank each of you for your part in creating this experience, for the willingness to step out and do something, and as Judi says for “trusting the person on the other side of the phone”. As I carry on, I carry with me the great gifts that I garnered from this experience. I have been changed and I have been blessed.
I will always remember Mississippi.”
-Takema
Students were asked to share their feelings from the three perspecitives that follow:
1. What will the kite flying represent to you?
2. What do you say to the voice in your head that keeps you from being all you want to be?
3. Write a monologue describing your experience with hurricane Katrina from a non-human point of view.
“Looks like they cut off the power a little early. We woke up at four o’clock this morning to find ourselves in the dark. Millie and my mom looked outside and it was raining pretty hard. The gust blew my whiskers as I took a peek at the dark rain. It was pitch black in the house and we all went into Mom and Dad’s room so if a tree fell down no one would get hurt in one of the empty rooms.
All of the family decided to go back to sleep, as I proceeded to chew on Miles’ old sock. They woke up only two hours later and it was light outside, but there was no sun. Most of the windows were covered with boards; one had blown off from the window on my parent’s room. My mom all of a sudden starts to say, ‘Water’s moving up.’ Dad pays no mind because usually when it rains around our house it kind of blocks up with water. Thirty minutes pass and water is pushing in through the cracks of the or. ‘Wow,’ I look at my paws, ‘Water’s coming in fast.’ Millie passes me once, twice as she stuffs her pictures, cameras, and extra clothing into her bag. Dad’s yelling, ‘It’s time to go,’ but everyone’s rushing, packing, yelling. I see Millie again—poor girl. She’s saved almost everything from friends; letters, pictures, poems. She looks so hopeless knowing she can’t save it.
‘Oh no,’ I think to myself. I’m up to my neck in water and no one’s even paying attention to me. I pass the kitchen and I see the refrigerator is floating. I remember Mom taking my special sauce out and I would eagerly wait for her pour it onto my dry food. Those were the days. Now look. We thought this was just another storm. I jump onto Millie’s bed and the family is bracing themselves for the rushing water. All of the doors are stuck, and the attic is blocked. The window is the only way. ‘No, no, no!’ I hate taking bathes. And now… Dad lifts up the window. Water rapidly rushes in almost knocking us back. I’m shaking, my coat drenched with salt water. One by one the family swims out. Then it’s my turn. Dad sweeps me under his arm. I hate the water.”
-Millie Jones
“As I am waiting here for that deathly silence to come and prepare me for what I am about to embark on, I watch you all leave and take shelter. I know by the feeling of emptiness that something big is about to happen. As the last few families leave and the sun starts to fall asleep, I rest my thoughts on a warm and sunny Sunday afternoon with green tress and green grass flourishing all over my skin. The feel of thousands of feet tapping, letting me know how they appreciate me being here. When I can feel the last footstep, hear the last bird, and soak up the last ray, my breath is stopped by the intimidating silence. I know now. It is time for me to be strong and brave. As the storm hits, the silence turns quickly into a roar as I watch my brothers and sisters being drowned by the wall of water. I watched houses and trees that I’ve known forever be ripped away from their root and heritage that I have provided for them. At one point I even lost sight of my brother to the west and my sister to the east as they were invaded, overcome by the massive wall of water, destruction, and devastation. I sat there and felt the water surround me like the air but it wasn’t welcome like the air. There was no air around me. Air is tranquil and pleasant, but the air now is not air, it is wind. This wind is full of fear, obstacles, and fortunes that will be revealed as it calms down. I stand strong and hold my ground when I feel the wind die down and the water go away. I am tired and worn out, but the next day when it is clear and I see the sky I realize that I can’t feel the rays of the sun as vividly as I once did. I felt bare, naked, cold, and scared because so much has been lost and ripped from my skin; however, there were no footsteps at first. As the day progressed I felt more and more footsteps and soaked in more and more radiant rays pouring out of the sun. I all of a sudden got excited because I knew this was a time of new beginning, a second chance. I can’t wait to struggle and sacrifice with my community and my family. Here I stand side by side with my brother and sister as the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Yes, we are a little bruised and battered, but we are still here for you and the other families to come back and enjoy being able to say “Home Sweet Home.”
-Johnny Blade
“The kite, to me, is us letting go of all our bad memories from Katrina. All of us put our thoughts into our kite as we make them, and when we let out kites go in the wind, the wind will blow all the bad times and memories away. Our kite will have to work with the wind in order to fly, just like us as individuals, are working with the community to accomplish a better place to live. The kite’s one goal is to fly and that is just symbolizing our community’s one goal to rebuild.”
-Caitlin Dalgo
“I don’t get it. They left four hours ago, but now that are back. What is going on? The dad says something about the traffic being too bad and the travel too slow. The mother is begging the father and son to leave, to come back to their senses. No. They are going to ride this one out. Nothing can touch Camille. They agree. We’ll be ok. This one wasn’t named Camille. The night is quiet. Here comes the wind, with its friend the rain. I wish they would have put my top on before the storm. Around four we lose power. It is really blowing out here. The sun rises and I can’t believe my eyes. Where is the beach? Water covers most of the street. The son comes out on the porch to take some pictures. The water rises faster and faster. My feet are wet. Where is this all coming from? Did the house down the street just move? Yes. Here it comes. Water is covering my seats. Time to go says the dad. I am no longer in the driveway, but washed into the front yard. Put the key in. Wait. I roar to life. Where are we going? Turn me around. That’s not the street is it? Is that a river? It makes no difference to me. I can handle five feet of water. Over a mailbox, over a tree, over a pile of walls and cars. What’s happening? I am dying. How high is the water now? More that five feet. I sputter and die. Peace. The family unzips my windows. Out they swim. Good luck”
-Conley Bourne
“I don’t just play hard to get, I am hard to get. My bark far outweighs my bite. I am partial and frugal. I love my children very much, hence my reluctance to share them with others. Many people have animosity towards me, yet they still come to see me. Everyday. After Katrina, I sat back and waited, and waited, and waited. In this time I set up large red barriers, so I wouldn’t be so vulnerable to giving help. There have been rumors that I have my children named Check and Trailer. By my only confirmed child is Long Line. People hear of me all the time but rarely see me. I’m more of a legend.
F is for the way you fight with me.
E should not stand for emergency.
M is many, many prayers to come and get me.
A is all the pain that came due to this hurricane.
Help is not much I can give to you. Help is just a cloak I wear fro you. You have no idea how very scared I am to see you.”
-no name
“You’ll have to excuse me, I’m a little exhausted from my last step. Those little islands always seem to weaken me and my family. Not to worry though, I can feel myself regaining strength. There’s nothing like a warm dry day to get you back on your track. You should have seen me at that last island though. You wouldn’t have recognized the place. It was beautiful. Not a building in site. I just wish I was given a challenge. Sometimes I feel like the big bad wolf blowing down a house made of hay.
This place I’m heading towards might be a little different though. My mother, Camille, has told me of the troubles she had there. She made it seem as though she lifted the weight of the ocean. This weather sure is putting me back in the mood. Maybe I’ll be remembered like her if it keeps up. It would be nice if I had some one to meet when I arrived just to give me a little bit of confidence. I get lonely after a weeklong trip over seas. Sure, there’s always a few weathermen to greet me, but they’re the ones who always pull through. Oh well, I should be getting my rest anyway. You’ll be seeing me tomorrow.”
- John M.
“Dear Evil Seducer,
Your voice in my head is so nice to hear. Your words are comforting my fears. I don’t want to stop and yet I do. You tell me it’s ok but I know its not. Why do you encourage me to do things that are wrong. You area bad influence. You’re like the child that parents don’t want their children to hang with. You are the devil but you’re tempting me. Leave me alone you evil seducer. I don’t want you or your evil temptations. Sincerely,
Your Unsuspecting Victim” – Jennifer Frazer
“My owner might have just driven me for the very last time. He just put me under the carport because that is the best place for me to be as of right now. I am getting way too old for this as it is approaching my thirteenth birthday. My brother, Expedition, just took my owners to Georgia. The wind is beginning to pick up a little bit. I am surrounded by mo other brothers, Cherokee and Ram. They are warning me for what is about to happen. The say that I am lucky because I am the highest off of the ground. My brothers seem worried. This worries me. I begin to feel the wind pick up more. It feels the same as when I drive sixty miles per hour now. I begin to hear my distant relatives cry as they are pounded by the water. I have never felt wind this string before. Debris is beginning to rocket in my direction. I hear more relatives crying, except not it’s getting closer.
Be sure to check the Mississippi Arts Commission website for other opportunities in training and events. The homepage always features the latest news and happenings.
