This morning I observed a mailman walking down the street, delivering his mail, singing to himself....in the pouring rain. Whatever negatives lay ahead of his daily route; the impatient neighbor waiting for her package, the grissly pit-bull who hadn't been fed that morning, the discourteous driver bent on not allowing him the right of way; rain, sleet or snow - this mailman was on a mission: to have a good day.
Most of us see someone like this and want to wipe the grin off their faces. How dare they be happy? How dare they decide to get up in the morning, every morning, and decide that no matter what, they are going to have a good day because they are alive, they are employed, and they are in control of their life and thereby their happiness?
Dancing is a form of nonverbal communication. People of all cultures engage in this movement to express their happiness; joyfulness. But for sure we all do it to express a feeling or sentiment, and to celebrate life.
It is no wonder that lottery winners, ecstatic brides and kids in the candy store respond to their fortune by dancing a jig, performing a moonwalk, and sometimes an acrobatic flip.
But the next time a little adversity comes your way or it starts to sprinkle and you have no umbrella, I hope you dance.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Sneetches
Discrimination is an ugly word. In the city of Shreveport, LA., it is a very common word. The mayor has made a plea for an end to racial discrimination and Congressman Webb has drawn fire for comments made about the gay and lesbian communities.
Discrimination is a hard pill to swallow. What could possibly be a solution to these two problems?
Oddly enough, the last place people would look to for a solution to this problem would be Dr. Seuss. He wrote many children's books about different issues, including racism. His book "The Butter Battle Book" focused on racial equality. But another of his books, "Sneetches" , carries a theme applicable to this subject as well.
If you are familiar with the story, a character in "Sneetches", Sylvester McMonkey McBean, creates a way to make it possible for those discriminated against to resemble those doing the discriminating, the Star-bellied Sneetches. Mr. McBean devises a machine that puts stars on the Sneetches with plain bellies; but charges for his services.
No longer having a way to tell the difference between eachother; the original Star-bellied Sneetches pay
Mr. McBean money to remove the stars off their bellies, so they once again can have their "distinction". This tattoo-frenzy goes on awhile until both sides realize that neither are superior and they begin to be friends,but not before Mr. McBean has made off with a sizeable amount of cash, amused at how silly the Sneetches were.
Well, you might be able to guess who the Star-bellied and Plain-bellied Sneetches represent; but many people do not realize that the character in this book, Mr. McBean, portrays something as well. You see, it is with its constant meddling and instigating that this situation is allowed to grow.
Did you figure it out?
-Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, for only ourselves can free our own minds - Bob Marley
Discrimination is a hard pill to swallow. What could possibly be a solution to these two problems?
Oddly enough, the last place people would look to for a solution to this problem would be Dr. Seuss. He wrote many children's books about different issues, including racism. His book "The Butter Battle Book" focused on racial equality. But another of his books, "Sneetches" , carries a theme applicable to this subject as well.
If you are familiar with the story, a character in "Sneetches", Sylvester McMonkey McBean, creates a way to make it possible for those discriminated against to resemble those doing the discriminating, the Star-bellied Sneetches. Mr. McBean devises a machine that puts stars on the Sneetches with plain bellies; but charges for his services.
No longer having a way to tell the difference between eachother; the original Star-bellied Sneetches pay
Mr. McBean money to remove the stars off their bellies, so they once again can have their "distinction". This tattoo-frenzy goes on awhile until both sides realize that neither are superior and they begin to be friends,but not before Mr. McBean has made off with a sizeable amount of cash, amused at how silly the Sneetches were.
Well, you might be able to guess who the Star-bellied and Plain-bellied Sneetches represent; but many people do not realize that the character in this book, Mr. McBean, portrays something as well. You see, it is with its constant meddling and instigating that this situation is allowed to grow.
Did you figure it out?
-Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, for only ourselves can free our own minds - Bob Marley
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Old Hag
Perhaps you've experienced the sensation-while awakening or falling asleep-of not being able to move. You discover that your body is paralyzed. Although you may try to call out, the sound remains locked in your throat. Meanwhile, your mind is clamoring to know what's going on.---
"Sleep Paralysis" American Medical Association Guide to Better Sleep,
l984.
I experienced this sensation at about age 13. When I approached my mother and told her of these episodes I had been having; she told me that I was being tortured in my sleep for having improper thoughts about boys. "Have you been thinking about boys", she asked? Although I had a boy on my mind as I responded to her, (hey, I was 13!) my answer was "no", even though my eyebrows raised up, my voice got higher, and my eyes left her gaze - all the telltale signs of someone lying to you.
For years I believed what my mother told me, and for years I lived with this secret because I understand it to mean that I was responsible for what was happening to me. In all fairness, my mother was only repeating to me what she had been taught; a story handed down from generation to generation and a story that still thrives in Southwest Louisiana.
In African culture, this experience is known as the "witch riding your back. Several studies have shown that African-Americans may be predisposed to isolated sleep paralysis, also known as "the witch is riding you" or "the haint is riding you". In addition, other studies have shown that African-Americans who have frequent episodes of isolated sleep paralysis were predisposed to having panic attacks. This is probably why, as a young person, I noticed that most of my school friends who were African-American also experienced this "nightmare."
In the Chinese, Vietnamese, Phillipine, and Japanese culture, it is known as the "ghost holding, riding, or pressing you down." In Mexico, it's believed that sleep paralysis is in fact the spirit of a dead person getting on the person and impeding movement, calling this "se me subió el muerto" (the dead person got on me). In Greece and Cyprus, the experience had a similar perpetrator; a ghost or spirit. In Newfoundland and Great Britain, the spirit was called "the Old Hag."
In 1995, Katherine Roberts collected personal experiences of these "assaults" from people living in Southwest Louisiana. There, the name of this experience was called "Cauchemer", meaning a "pressing phantom" and was widely known among the people of African descent with French language in Southwest Louisiana. She talked with several people in an around the Lafayette, Louisiana area who all knew of "Cauchemer." She noted that most people of older generations still firmly believed, as my mother once did, that it happened to warn or punish a person for something; while most people of the younger generation believed that it "just happened", there was no real meaning behind it.
Ms. Roberts continues her research with many individuals whose firm belief is that they are having an encounter with the supernatural and that this belief has been handed down from older ones to younger ones over years and remains a part of their culture.
27 years after my first experiences with this "nightmare", I overheard one of my nieces describing the sensation of being awake, screaming out, but no one hearing her and not being able to move. She told me that she called my mother, and again, my mother told her the same thing she told me. Realizing now that maybe there was a medical reason for this experience, I turned to the internet. After googling the description of the nightmare, I found message board after message board of people who had experienced the same thing. Finally, one poster related that it was a condition called "sleep paralysis." To my relief, this is what I learned:
The description of sleep paralysis mentioned at the outset of this article, occurs as a natural part of REM sleep. Your body becomes paralyzed to prevent it from acting out while dreaming, but when the brain awakes from a REM state, the body paralysis persists. This leaves the person fully conscious, but unable to move. The paralysis can last from several seconds to several minutes after which the individual may experience panic symptoms.
After assuring my niece that what she was experiencing was physiological, and not mental, I phoned my mother. When I asked her if she had ever heard of "the old hag", she said " You mean your period?"
"Sleep Paralysis" American Medical Association Guide to Better Sleep,
l984.
I experienced this sensation at about age 13. When I approached my mother and told her of these episodes I had been having; she told me that I was being tortured in my sleep for having improper thoughts about boys. "Have you been thinking about boys", she asked? Although I had a boy on my mind as I responded to her, (hey, I was 13!) my answer was "no", even though my eyebrows raised up, my voice got higher, and my eyes left her gaze - all the telltale signs of someone lying to you.
For years I believed what my mother told me, and for years I lived with this secret because I understand it to mean that I was responsible for what was happening to me. In all fairness, my mother was only repeating to me what she had been taught; a story handed down from generation to generation and a story that still thrives in Southwest Louisiana.
In African culture, this experience is known as the "witch riding your back. Several studies have shown that African-Americans may be predisposed to isolated sleep paralysis, also known as "the witch is riding you" or "the haint is riding you". In addition, other studies have shown that African-Americans who have frequent episodes of isolated sleep paralysis were predisposed to having panic attacks. This is probably why, as a young person, I noticed that most of my school friends who were African-American also experienced this "nightmare."
In the Chinese, Vietnamese, Phillipine, and Japanese culture, it is known as the "ghost holding, riding, or pressing you down." In Mexico, it's believed that sleep paralysis is in fact the spirit of a dead person getting on the person and impeding movement, calling this "se me subió el muerto" (the dead person got on me). In Greece and Cyprus, the experience had a similar perpetrator; a ghost or spirit. In Newfoundland and Great Britain, the spirit was called "the Old Hag."
In 1995, Katherine Roberts collected personal experiences of these "assaults" from people living in Southwest Louisiana. There, the name of this experience was called "Cauchemer", meaning a "pressing phantom" and was widely known among the people of African descent with French language in Southwest Louisiana. She talked with several people in an around the Lafayette, Louisiana area who all knew of "Cauchemer." She noted that most people of older generations still firmly believed, as my mother once did, that it happened to warn or punish a person for something; while most people of the younger generation believed that it "just happened", there was no real meaning behind it.
Ms. Roberts continues her research with many individuals whose firm belief is that they are having an encounter with the supernatural and that this belief has been handed down from older ones to younger ones over years and remains a part of their culture.
27 years after my first experiences with this "nightmare", I overheard one of my nieces describing the sensation of being awake, screaming out, but no one hearing her and not being able to move. She told me that she called my mother, and again, my mother told her the same thing she told me. Realizing now that maybe there was a medical reason for this experience, I turned to the internet. After googling the description of the nightmare, I found message board after message board of people who had experienced the same thing. Finally, one poster related that it was a condition called "sleep paralysis." To my relief, this is what I learned:
The description of sleep paralysis mentioned at the outset of this article, occurs as a natural part of REM sleep. Your body becomes paralyzed to prevent it from acting out while dreaming, but when the brain awakes from a REM state, the body paralysis persists. This leaves the person fully conscious, but unable to move. The paralysis can last from several seconds to several minutes after which the individual may experience panic symptoms.
After assuring my niece that what she was experiencing was physiological, and not mental, I phoned my mother. When I asked her if she had ever heard of "the old hag", she said " You mean your period?"
Friday, November 20, 2009
Yellow Face
"You have a theory?" said Watson.
"Yes, a provisional one. But I shall be surprised if it does not turn out to be correct. This woman's first husband is in that cottage," replied Sherlock Holmes, confident that he had solved the mystery of who was occupying a cottage near the home of one Grant Munro. His wife's unusual behavior prompted him to seek the help of Holmes, and Holmes listens to the man's story.
Grant Munro's wife, Effie, had moved back to England from the States after losing her first husband and child to yellow fever. Up to this time, they have had what he describes as a marriage of bliss. Holmes deduction is that the first husband is not dead, but alive, and is the occupant that Effie Munro has been having secret liasions with.
What Effie didn't tell Munro is that her first husband was a black man, and she was the mother of a bi-racial child who was very much alive. Afraid to allow this child to travel while fighting disease, she leaves her behind in the care of a nanny, only to pine so for her that she sends for the both of them, but instructs the nanny to keep the child hidden and obscure her face so that no one would learn of her paternity until she was ready to confront Grant with the truth.
Finally, when no longer able to oblige his wife's wishes to wait for her to tell him the truth, Grant charges the cottage and finds a Scottish woman and a small child whose arms and face are covered. When Watson pulls back the covering, a small Black child is revealed.
It is now that Effie tells Grant that her first husband was a Black man, and the little girl is hers.
At this time, and to everyone's surprise, Grant "lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned towards the door."
The sentiment Doyle evokes at this point from the reader is one of admiration for Mr. Grant, for putting aside his wife's dishonesty and what would surely be strong reactions from people of that time, to focus his affection on Effie's daughter. In 1894, when the story was published, there were no anti-miscegenation laws in the United Kingdom, yet interracial marriages and mixed race children were looked down upon, frowned on.
73 years later, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in a unanimous decision that under the Constitution, "the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another race resides with the individual and cannot be infringed by the State." Unfortunately, as in 1894, not only are these unions frowned on today, there are some who, despite its unconstitutionality, would attempt to prevent them from occurring.
42 years after the Supreme Court ruling, Keith Bardwell, a Justice of the Peace in Tangipahoa Parish, Louisiana, resigned after refusing to marry an interracial couple. In an attempt to try to humanize his actions, he expressed his concern for the children of these interracial unions. He was trying to spare the suffering that he believed would become these children because, in his experience, interracial marriages "don't last".
I seriously doubt that Mr. Bardwell was a fan of Arthur Conan Doyle or Sherlock Holmes. I also seriously doubt that Mr. Doyle was a proponent of interracial marriages. He was, however, years ahead of his time in conveying that too much emphasis is placed on the color of a person's skin.
When the case involving Mr. Munro was solved, Mr. Holmes admitted that he had erred in his theory, and says to Mr. Watson, "If it should ever strike you that I am getting a little overconfident in my powers, or giving less pains to a case than it deserves, kindly whisper 'Norbury' (the name of the place the Munro's resided) in my ear, and I shall be infinitely obliged to you."
It appears that Mr. Bardwell was overconfident in believing his personal feelings (however noble he wants us to believe they were) trumped those of the constitution for which he swore to uphold. He also gave less pains to a case than it deserves by deducing quickly, (as Holmes did in the Munro case when he confidently believed Mrs. Munro was hiding a husband, and not a child), that interracial marriages could only cause suffering to any child that union would produce. Maybe someone should have whispered "Loving v. Virginia" to this former Justice of the Peace.
Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying
When a man in Shreveport last week shot and killed another man who had come to assist his wife in a custody dispute, I wondered what made him think that taking another man's life was the only choice he had to resolve this conflict.
Shreveport was also the scene of a bank robbery, where a police officer was wounded before the robber was shot down and killed.
No doubt in the days and weeks to come, we will learn that these offenders were victims of some unfortunate circumstance; an alcoholic mother, an abusive father. But the bottom line is, we all have choices.
Most of us probably know someone who suffered terribly and, despite the unfortunate hand dealt them, never gave up hope and decided not to lay down and die, but to get busy living their life and make the best they can of it.
The person that I thought of is a fictional character, but whose story
is undoubtedly one of enduring hope under the worst circumstances.
The character is Andy, (played by Tim Robbins) from the movie "The Shawshank Redemption." In the movie,
Andy's character is falsely accused (like Harrison Ford's character in The Fugitive)
and sentenced to jail, where he endures extreme abuse.
When his accounting skills draw the attention of the warden, Andy agrees to help him hide earnings from his illegal profiteering. Andy is now given a reprieve from the abuse because of the assistance he provides to the warden and other guards at the prison.
In another unfortunate turn of events for Andy, a new inmate tells Andy that he has evidence to prove his innocence, and Andy asks for an appeal. The warden, fearing Andy's release would bring his illegal activity to light, refuses. When Andy then refuses to do his finances, the warden gives him 2 months of solitary confinement.
Andy realizes his only chance at freedom is up to him. He devises a way to escape, and with the money he has helped the warden hide, he breaks out of jail.
But it is during a conversation with his inmate friend Red, played by Morgan Freeman, that Andy says one of the greatest lines from the movie. When Red tells him that it is futile to try to get out of jail (after he himself experiences repeated parole denials), Andy tells Red his only choices are to "get busy living or get busy dying". He refuses to give up hope that his life could change, while acknowledging that he had to be the one to change it.
The other person I thought of is one Lauren Grandcolas. Lauren was on Flight 93 that crashed in Pennsylvania on September 11, 2001. At the time of her death, she was working on a motivational self-help book for women struggling with their self-esteem. Her work continues through the foundation set up by her husband, the Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas Foundation. Lauren's husband, refusing to let her legacy die with her and the child she was carrying at the time of her death, got busy making sure her legacy continued. Lauren had adopted as her motto the line from "The Shawshank Redemption" that is the title of this article. Lauren's hope was to see that people also arrived at the same conclusion Andy did, that if you want your life to be different, you have to get busy living, or you are just dying.
While reading the story about the custody dispute shooting, along with all the other crimes committed last week, all I could think was that these offenders are just busy dying.
FW: FW: FW: Basket Bandit
Boy, have I got a story for you. I know that you are tired of reading about the different numbers to dial to reach emergency, (since apparently dialing 911 will not work), tired of going to www.snopes.com to verify if an email you received is true even though we know it is impossible for insect larvae to live inside a womans areola - but this ACTUALLY happened to me and I am obliged to pass this information on to you (and 100 other people to get a $10 Best Buy card).
For sometime now I have visited my local Wal-Mart and everytime I pick out the best cart with the shiny wheels and firm straight handle, I without fail end up walking out of Wal-Mart with the ricketiest basket, about to fall apart at any second. Was I actually the victim of a basket shake-up? Was someone following me, with the exact items I had in their basket, and then, unbeknownst to me, switching out my flashy new basket for a rickety one? I decided to investigate!
My next trip to Wal-Mart I was prepared to stop this basket bandit. I brought along with me a long red string to tie on my basket so that I could identify it again should the basket bandit strike. I then proceeded to pick out the shiniest basket with wheels so straight I would have guessed it had just recently received a shopping cart alignment. I picked up a head of cabbage, some fig newtons, a couple of liters of coke, each time turning my back for minutes in case it was now that the basket bandit would make his move; and then proceeded to the check out lane. Here, the basket bandit would have his best chance to complete his basket swap.
After waiting several minutes, I returned the magazine I pretended to be reading to the shelf and checked out. After receiving my receipt, I turned to reach for my basket, and alas! He had struck! To my terror, the exact groceries I had picked out were now bagged and sitting in a rickety basket with no red string. The cashier, noting the horror on my face, asked what was wrong. I decided to let her in on the conspiracy, only to receive a smile in response.
"Ma'am, when you check out," she said, "while you are putting your groceries on the counter, we are ringing them up, bagging them, and putting them in another basket for you to take out of the store."
The case of the basket bandit had been solved.
And in reading this story you may think it is the stupidest thing you have ever read. But you are mistaken. The email you read before reading this article telling you to forward an email to 10 people (which you promptly did) to receive a $50 Starbucks card was by far much more ridiculous! Happy reading!
For sometime now I have visited my local Wal-Mart and everytime I pick out the best cart with the shiny wheels and firm straight handle, I without fail end up walking out of Wal-Mart with the ricketiest basket, about to fall apart at any second. Was I actually the victim of a basket shake-up? Was someone following me, with the exact items I had in their basket, and then, unbeknownst to me, switching out my flashy new basket for a rickety one? I decided to investigate!
My next trip to Wal-Mart I was prepared to stop this basket bandit. I brought along with me a long red string to tie on my basket so that I could identify it again should the basket bandit strike. I then proceeded to pick out the shiniest basket with wheels so straight I would have guessed it had just recently received a shopping cart alignment. I picked up a head of cabbage, some fig newtons, a couple of liters of coke, each time turning my back for minutes in case it was now that the basket bandit would make his move; and then proceeded to the check out lane. Here, the basket bandit would have his best chance to complete his basket swap.
After waiting several minutes, I returned the magazine I pretended to be reading to the shelf and checked out. After receiving my receipt, I turned to reach for my basket, and alas! He had struck! To my terror, the exact groceries I had picked out were now bagged and sitting in a rickety basket with no red string. The cashier, noting the horror on my face, asked what was wrong. I decided to let her in on the conspiracy, only to receive a smile in response.
"Ma'am, when you check out," she said, "while you are putting your groceries on the counter, we are ringing them up, bagging them, and putting them in another basket for you to take out of the store."
The case of the basket bandit had been solved.
And in reading this story you may think it is the stupidest thing you have ever read. But you are mistaken. The email you read before reading this article telling you to forward an email to 10 people (which you promptly did) to receive a $50 Starbucks card was by far much more ridiculous! Happy reading!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Levee Liability
I am a Trekkie, and loyally cling to all the great logic that Spock imparts in the series. In J.J. Abrams installment of the 2009 "Star Trek", Spock's homeworld is destroyed in an act of revenge from a future enemy. Minutes before Vulcan implodes on itself, Spock beams down to the planet to save the Counsel tasked with keeping the cultural history of his people.
On November 19, 2009, a federal court ruled that the Army Corps of Engineers failed to maintain a shipping channel linking New Orleans to the Gulf of Mexico, thereby allowing Hurricane Katrina to cause catastrophic flooding to the city.
New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin said in a statement, "Although the ruling is liberating for thousands impacted by the devastation and tragedy of Hurricane Katrina, it is my hope that justice will prevail to help families make their lives whole again."
Unfortunately, not all the families in Louisiana affected by Hurricane Katrina
will have their lives made whole again, including the families of the very first settlers of an island called Isle de Jean Charles, Louisiana. The islands' inhabitants are Indian, of the Biloxi-Chitimacha tribe, descendants of French and Indian settlers going back 170 years ago.
The inhabitants are being urged to move further inland because the island is doomed to slowly disappear due to hurricanes and the impact of oil drilling, logging and the Army Corps of Engineers' levee building on the Mississippi River. They, in turn, are requesting that the US Corps of Engineers include their island in its levee project to protect its inhabitants, thereby protecting its culture and history. Their island falls outside of the planned levee wall's path.
The Indian tribe currently lacks recognition as a Native American tribe. Were they to have this recognition, the United States Government would be forced to recognize their right of self-determination; including the tribes decision to relocate its people.
The government has offered to buy out the residents in the way of purchasing a tract of land and building homes for them in nearby Bourg, La. The Corps of Engineers has decided that there is only so much of South Louisiana that can be saved, and Isle de Jean Charles is not part of it.
What can be saved of the island and it's people is its cultural history. The leaders of this community must realize, as Spock did, that its identity lies with its people, not its location. In "Star Trek", of the 6 billion inhabitants of Vulcan, only 100,000 were rescued from Vulcan's fate. The Vulcan's set about finding a new home for their people to "live long and prosper".
Isle de Jean Charles' first valedictorian, William Billiot, said "God gives us life and puts the developing of our lives in our hands. Our life is whatever we make it. We ourselves develop ourselves. By our reactions to circumstances, we decide our character and our development. We take what is given to us and shape it. Life is most highly developed when educated."
I hope the residents of Isle de Jean Charles apply logic in their decision; realizing that the only way to save their heritage is to save their lives. Who they are is much more important than where they are. Otherwise, they and their culture, will be another levee liability.
On November 19, 2009, a federal court ruled that the Army Corps of Engineers failed to maintain a shipping channel linking New Orleans to the Gulf of Mexico, thereby allowing Hurricane Katrina to cause catastrophic flooding to the city.
New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin said in a statement, "Although the ruling is liberating for thousands impacted by the devastation and tragedy of Hurricane Katrina, it is my hope that justice will prevail to help families make their lives whole again."
Unfortunately, not all the families in Louisiana affected by Hurricane Katrina
will have their lives made whole again, including the families of the very first settlers of an island called Isle de Jean Charles, Louisiana. The islands' inhabitants are Indian, of the Biloxi-Chitimacha tribe, descendants of French and Indian settlers going back 170 years ago.
The inhabitants are being urged to move further inland because the island is doomed to slowly disappear due to hurricanes and the impact of oil drilling, logging and the Army Corps of Engineers' levee building on the Mississippi River. They, in turn, are requesting that the US Corps of Engineers include their island in its levee project to protect its inhabitants, thereby protecting its culture and history. Their island falls outside of the planned levee wall's path.
The Indian tribe currently lacks recognition as a Native American tribe. Were they to have this recognition, the United States Government would be forced to recognize their right of self-determination; including the tribes decision to relocate its people.
The government has offered to buy out the residents in the way of purchasing a tract of land and building homes for them in nearby Bourg, La. The Corps of Engineers has decided that there is only so much of South Louisiana that can be saved, and Isle de Jean Charles is not part of it.
What can be saved of the island and it's people is its cultural history. The leaders of this community must realize, as Spock did, that its identity lies with its people, not its location. In "Star Trek", of the 6 billion inhabitants of Vulcan, only 100,000 were rescued from Vulcan's fate. The Vulcan's set about finding a new home for their people to "live long and prosper".
Isle de Jean Charles' first valedictorian, William Billiot, said "God gives us life and puts the developing of our lives in our hands. Our life is whatever we make it. We ourselves develop ourselves. By our reactions to circumstances, we decide our character and our development. We take what is given to us and shape it. Life is most highly developed when educated."
I hope the residents of Isle de Jean Charles apply logic in their decision; realizing that the only way to save their heritage is to save their lives. Who they are is much more important than where they are. Otherwise, they and their culture, will be another levee liability.
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