Operation Understanding's Blog

Throughout this trip I’ve learned more than I’ve ever learned in school.

I knew some things about my culture, but the people we’ve come in contact with opened my eyes to so much that I should have already known about. I came into OU not knowing anything about the Jewish culture, but I had nothing to worry about.  All the Jewish kids answered every question that I asked. I even enjoyed every Shabbat services.  I danced, prayed, and even attempted to learn Hebrew…it was so much fun. Despite the differences I really enjoyed everything, I feel like we are a family now. We check on one another to make sure everything is okay, tried new things, and really came out of our comfort zones.  So as I conclude I know for a fact that this is not the end, its actually a new beginning to our journey called life.

Kirstin Kearns, Strawberry Mansion High School, OU 2010

From the Afro-centric people of the Gullah Geechee nation to the soulful streets of New Orleans, Louisiana, streams of the ugly but yet beautiful truths of our nation’s history embodied minds and triggered curiosity. Personally, I feel that my insatiable hunger for an understanding of the history that inhabits MY veins has finally been satisfied. Finally, I am no longer deprived of the beautiful brown fruits whose story is told through my own blood line. You see, I go to a school in which the magnitude of my culture is barely recognized, let alone celebrated. As I gazed upon the mangled face of Emmett Till, or embodied the blood,sweat, and tears of an African slave, I knew that my transformation into a “black woman” had begun. A sense of humility and love overwhelmed me as I witnessed the gratitude of a family of hurricane Katrina survivors who was having their home rebuilt free of cost. I spoke to the mother, immediately I looked past her eyes straight into her soul, I felt her pain. My feet were swollen, back in pain, and in respiratory distress due to the relentless heat, but yet I felt like the lucky one. The consistent smiles this displaced family wore made me wonder how we think we have the luxury to complain about anything what so ever. My mission as not only a student of OU, but an advocate for change is to educate myself and others so that the generations to come have a fair shot at success and develop the urge to engage in unconventional thinking. Dr. King didn’t “have” a dream, he “has ” a dream, and I intend to live it out as long as my skin is glazed with brown.

Desiree Booker, Hallahan Catholic Girls High School, OU 2010

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about culture in general. My experiences thus far in New Orleans have reiterated just how powerful culture can truly be. The House of Dance and Feathers Museum, which we visited yesterday, displayed the richness of NOLA’s past. The elaborate costumes used in the weekly parades (which we watched a clip of) varied in color and style, but each one told an interesting story, a small snippet of life here. What really struck me, however, was when Ronald Lewis, the director of the museum, answered his own question of “why should people return to New Orleans if another disaster will inevitably strike.” I agreed, because scientifically it makes little sense to continually try to urbanize such a vulnerable region. Well, Ronald then explained that even though hurricane Katrina destroyed houses and uprooted families, it never touched the spirit of New Orleans. After walking through the French Quarter, sampling the local cuisine, and hearing live music, I have experienced firsthand the spirit and continued vitality of this city. This revelation motivated me earlier today, when I worked with the St. Bernard’s Project and AmeriCorps to help rebuild the Burrell family’s home. Ibrahim and I turned square holes in the walls into functional doorways. Others painted and installed baseboard. The work was especially rewarding considering my newfound knowledge of what I was helping to do: not only bring a family back to its house, but also back to its history and culture.

This reminds me why I’m here, both in New Orleans and in OU. I believe that culture inspires a sense of community, acting as a uniting force that can overcome devastation. It has brought thousands of people back to a place that could have become Atlantis. I’m sure it can also work cross-culturally, connecting diverse groups into one stronger, greater, and interlocked society.

Dan Schuman, William Penn Charter School, OU 2010

As we travelled to the 9th Ward (the region of NO most affected by Katrina), I was suddenly stricken with a sense of helplessness and remorse. Even after five years a huge percentage of the homes still remained abandoned in wait for revival. With the help of organizations such as the Saint Bernard Project (the organization we worked with), the people in need are able to get their homes rebuilt, their schools re-opened, and their lives back on track. As we helped to rebuild the home of the MacLucky family in the lower 9th Ward I could sense the groups’ strong sympathy and deep emotion for all of the families that were affected by the hurricane. The best way to truly understand and embrace the situation of different cultures is by physically acting and working hands-on. Although we will never fully understand what these enduring families went through during the hurricane, we do know what they are going through now, and that is extremely devastating. While we did not help all of the families in need, it only takes one to make a difference and the fact that all of the OU members were ready, willing, and able to help in good spirit and high hopes, brought much joy to my heart.

Malcolm Carayol, Episcopal Academy, OU 2010

OU Parents and Friends- (july 13th, tuesday)

Yesterday was one of the most moving days I have experienced here on this OU trip. We all met a woman named Joanne Bland. A woman of her conviction, stunned me. I cannot say that I did not respect her, however her feelings of the Civil Rights Movement were shocking. She was not afraid to look each caucasian in the face and say, “The white man will forever be superior.” This statement took me by throat, and made me speechless. Who was she to tell me this? Yes, she had walked in marches and marches for the Civil Rights Movement and yes she had gone to jail for her acts but I felt her hatred beaming down on me. On the contrary, who am I to say anything when she was there?  This woman was there for everything from MLK to the march across the Edmund Pettus bridge.

I asked one of my fellow OU students, Desiree Booker what she thought as an African American and she said that with research from W.E.B. Dubois, “the ABC of Color” said that there will always be a veil of color in every situation that you will always be able to see through it however it will never go away completely. This struck me because it made so much sense. I cannot take the blame for what my ancestors may have done but I can understand her feelings. This is exactly what I came out here to do, to understand. My understanding is in operation.

Beth Lussenhop, Central High School, OU 2010

As our trip has begun to head more and more south I have felt increasingly out of my element. Although this feeling has evoked fear in me, it has also been extremely powerful. My fear of the unknown was pushed to the limit as we traveled through Alabama a few days ago, Alabama is much different than Philadelphia to say the least. The homey feel of the north was entirely absent in my mind as our bus plundered through the vacant streets of Selma Alabama. The bus stopped suddenly at a small average looking building, all of a sudden an African American women climbed on our bus and yelled at the men to get off immediately and face the wall. As the women on the trip stood on the bus apprehensively I began to feel that something was not right. A moment later the same women climbed back on and ordered all the females to face the wall. As I stood next the other members of my group facing an unfamiliar wall I realized that I, and the rest of my companions had just become slaves. The women stood behind us and screamed to us to turn around as she inspected our mouths and sent us into the building. We were told not to make eye contact with her and to face the wall. Before I knew it I was trapped in a dark room and the usually familiar faces of my group members became unknown. I began to cry. There were screams all around me and the woman who dragged us off the bus was saying the N word, a word I have never said, a word that has evoked fear in me since I was a child. We moved from room to room and faced various trails that slaves would have encountered. Every test was just as impossible to pass. I thought I was going to pass out I could feel the pain of an entire people in my heart, I could hear the pain, and I was seeing it right before my eyes. All of a sudden the woman lead us into a room that was light, a familiar looking room. She told us to sit down and that we could not heal until we knew the truth about what happened. I could not stop crying, even though the journey was over, even though I was not truly a slave, I was all of a sudden a witness. And as we sat in that circle and discussed ways to heal all I could think was: what have we done to humanity, what have we done to so many innocent people? And by the end of this healing circle I had an epiphany: at the end of the day it does not matter your race, religion, or social- economic background, every person has prejudice and every person has pain, but everybody has the power to change the world. I have the power to change the world.

Liz Fletman, Central High School, OU 2010