Finding Meaning in Chaotic Times:

Finding Meaning in Chaotic Times:

Katrina and Transformative Leadership

Panel Presentation at 2006 LCWR Assembly – Atlanta, Georgia

August 21, 2006

Four leaders of congregations based in New Orleans whose members and whose property were deeply impacted by Hurricane Katrina spoke at the 2006 LCWR assembly of Katrina as a metaphor for this time in religious life. The four panelists were: Beth Fitzpatrick, O Carm; Mary Kay Kinberger, MSC; Sylvia Thibodeaux, SSF; and Dorothy Trosclair, OP. The panel was moderated by Donna Markham, OP. The texts of the panelists follow.

Mary Kay Kinberger, msc

August 28, 2005

I was the last sister to leave our Holy Angels Congregational Center in New Orleans. I looked at everything for the last time. I moved a few more items off the floor. I touched some of the special things related to our history. I turned off all the lights and locked the doors while asking the angels to watch over our property and knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

September 11, 2005

New Orleans was still off limits and guarded at major points of entrance. With the help of one of our college faculty members, I was able to obtain a special pass and get through to Holy Angels. After passing through several military check points and presenting the pass and my identification, I reached our Congregational Center which was now a central military command post for the Ninth

Ward of New Orleans. Women and men armed and in uniform were everywhere. I wondered if they would permit me to enter the gate; but miraculously no one stopped me or asked to see the pass or my identification. I felt as if a path was opening up for me. I asked who was in charge (a phrase which I learned to use a lot with the military!) and was sent to the second floor of one of our buildings. I saw this young man behind a make-shift desk. I introduced myself and before I knew it, he was hugging me and he said:

“Sister, what took you so long to get here? I kept telling my troops I knew some of the sisters would come. My name is Pete. I am not Catholic, but I am Holy Cross! I graduated from the University of Portland.”

I explained to him how difficult it was to enter the City and reach Holy Angels but he acted like that should not deter us – an interesting response in troubling and chaotic times.

He then said:

“Will you talk to my troops? Will you lead us in prayer?”

We walked back down the stairs and I was glimpsing for the first time the destruction on the property. However, I was not able to dwell on that because very quickly Pete had the troops all seated on the ground (the beautiful lawn of St. Augustine grass was dead). They were positioned in front of the Sacred Heart statue whose arms stretched out over them all. This was a powerful image that just wrenched my heart.

As Pete began, I was so touched by his tenderness with the troops. He spoke so gently to them and praised them for all the good work they had been doing in the search and rescue operations and acknowledged the difficulty of the mission. He then introduced me to them.

Gazing into their faces, I was taken aback by the incomprehensible stories written on their faces – sagas of pain, fatigue, sadness. They had been among the first to arrive in the Ninth Ward and had been rescuing the living, consoling the dying, and removing the dead. I thanked them for the generous and dedicated service they had been rendering to the people of New Orleans especially to this area and then we prayed together.

After visiting with the troops, Pete explained to me that three of our buildings had been flooded and were now mold-infested and hazardous areas. He pointed to the areas on the roofs and proudly explained that they had patched some of the holes and had boarded some of the windows that were broken. I thanked him again for their presence, their assistance, and their support of the people of the Ninth Ward and then had to leave because of the curfew in the City. I assured him I would return and the military became a ministry to us in the months following Katrina (that is another story).

From the beginning of Katrina, the image that came to me in prayer was that of the desert. It seems a bit odd since we had been inundated with flood waters; however, the words of Hosea haunted me:

“I will allure her. I will lead her into the desert. I will speak to her heart” (Hosea 2:16-17).

But I had not been allured; I felt dropped into a vast Sahara desert of heat and aridity, of flies and gnats, of death and destruction, amidst the utter silence of God. There was no word being spoken to my heart from the Lord and there was a sense of abandonment on some level while I was assured that people were carrying us in their prayers. My own prayer seemed very dry and very silent.

Meanwhile the needs of our sisters were very loud and clear.

There was denial, disorientation, and distress. In order to address this, we diligently worked to establish a network of communications which was a challenge since even cell phones were not working. Consequently, much of our connecting was done by traveling from place to place where the sisters were now living in temporary conditions. Two of our assistants, Rochelle and Mary Anne, are here with me at LCWR and they can speak to this as well. We were striving to support our sisters who were now living in new situations with family, friends, and in some cases strangers who quickly became community for us.
There was grief and anger. “If you could just get my black shoes from my closet. They are the only ones that really fit me.” “I need my winter coat! It is hanging in my closet.” (It was September and 90 degrees!) “Could you get the preserves I made? I promised them to a friend. They are in my top drawer on the left-hand side.” The military had now taken over most the buildings and just about everything had been moved and re-arranged. It was difficult for the sisters, especially our elderly, to comprehend this situation and the realities of New Orleans.
There was the need to be attentive to our own levels of fatigue as we worked with entirely new realities: FEMA (we do not fit into their categories and this is another story!); finding our banking officers in other states; talking with insurance personnel and meeting with adjusters; triaging each new emergency that sprung up; and then having to evacuate some of the evacuees of Katrina when Hurricane Rita struck the southwestern and central part of Louisiana. The image that spoke to me was that of the mother cat with her little kittens trying to suck and there was no milk left.
There was the support and encouragement that came to us from near and far. We were deeply touched by our own sisters who reached out to the people in the places where they were evacuated by visiting the shelters, by being a support to the people who housed them, by assisting in the schools, and being ministers wherever and however they could fulfill a need. Your solidarity in notes, letters, phone calls, and care packages often brought us to tears. The financial support you sent enabled us to set up an emergency fund to assist with the immediate needs of our sisters, some of our family members who lost everything, and to pay the salaries and health benefits of our employees for six months. In so many ways you reminded us that we were not alone. And truly it was the reassurance that you were praying for us that was such a consolation to me in the desert of my own prayer.
There has been some letting go, re-grouping, and re-investing. Your financial contributions have aided us in these steps and have assisted three of our ministries in New Orleans. They are:

1. St. Rita Elementary School which is owned by the Archdiocese but which we staff. While the administration of the Archdiocese was trying to decide which schools would re-open some of our sisters returned to this school and in deplorable conditions began the insurmountable task of cleaning the sludge from the flood waters and restoring this school to the pristine condition it is in today. This month our sisters and lay staff are welcoming approximately 250 students, mainly African-American children, and providing them with a loving and hospitable educational environment in the midst of the ongoing chaos of their family situations living in trailer parks and other difficult situations.

2. Our Lady of Holy Cross College which we own is welcoming approximately 1300 students this Fall. Many of our students and their families suffered great losses and, under regular circumstances, they work to pay their own tuition. For some, they are the first members of their families to attend college. While striving to assist our students and their needs, our college is also assessing the possible ways that our counseling center can be a ongoing resource center to address the post-traumatic and mental health needs of the victims of Katrina and how we might respond to the needs of the Hispanic workers who have come to New Orleans in search of a job and with a dream for a better life for themselves and their families.

3. Marianite Bywater Project – The area of our neighborhood is known as Bywater as we are very near the Mississippi River. From our congregational center, we have begun a new project to reach out to those in this part of our city who are trying to return and rebuild their lives. One of our sisters, Sr. Clarita, is the project coordinator and other Marianites are volunteering their time to assist with workshops, prayer gatherings, support groups and other activities of this program. What had been a parlor to welcome guests is now an office for Clarita to welcome our neighbors, to listen to them, and to assess what type of assistance they might need.

One year later while some things are improving, many things remain in chaos in New Orleans and we are faced with an environmental disaster on the Gulf Coast that has implications for the entire nation. Our marshlands are disappearing, our barrier islands are being washed away. There are many issues beyond the repair of levees which need to be addressed. I don’t fear another hurricane as much as I fear that we will not learn the lessons from this one. We have to be, to do, and to live differently to save our environment and to reverse what we have set in motion by our attachments to a way of life which is destroying our world.

“I will allure her. I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart.” (Hosea 2:16-17)

Two weeks ago I went on retreat; I had cancelled my retreat twice during the course of the year. I had no preconceived ideas about this retreat except, being a very practical person, I knew it would be good to get away and enjoy some time of rest. Whatever else transpired was not in my hands. Over the past months and on this retreat, I had been reflecting on the words of Jessica Powers:

God is not garden anymore, to satiate the senses

with the luxuriance of full exotic wilderness.

Now multiple is magnified to less.

God has become as desert now, a vast unknown Sahara

voicing its desert cry.

My soul has been arrested by the sound

of a divine tremendous loneliness.

Quite unexpectedly during the course of my retreat, the Lord finally spoke to my heart after almost twelve months of deafening silence. Actually it was a question that was clearly and gently whispered in the core of my being. Perhaps it is a question as well for some of you who may be dealing with other forms of hurricanes and chaos – “Do you love me in the desert?”

Beth Fitzpatrick, O Carm

For many years I have loved the words to the song with which we began our program this morning: St. Teresa’s Nada te Turbe, the “Lines Written in her Breviary.” I like to think they were written there because she needed to pray them often. “Let nothing disturb thee, nothing affright thee. Sisters, this year, we have been disturbed and frightened! We feared the storm itself: the wind and rain and storm surge. We feared for our five sisters who remained in the city: two because they are health care personnel and three because they are stubborn women! (Our Carmelite Rule say we may have mules and jackasses - we have them! And they are women who get things done!) We feared that the devastation of our property, caused not by the hurricane, but by the breaches in the levees, would caused financial ruin. Our motherhouse, our formation house, our girl’s academy all flooded with ten feet of water for days!

What helped us to find meaning? Our Carmelite Spirituality - specifically St. John of the Cross’s teaching about the Dark Night. This image has crept into popular usage as a term to be used when bad things happen. Katrina and Rita and Wilma were very bad things. There is a danger of over-simplifying and misapplying John’s teaching, but I have found in his writings so much to sustain us.

John teaches us the three signs that indicate the Dark Night.

1) You simply cannot pray as you used to pray.

We could not pray, minister, live in the same community with the same people. Our homes were gone, our automobiles, and we had no phone communications. No amount of

willing could enable us to live as we had before.

2) You find no pleasure in the things of God... or anything else. There is a great restlessness...and, at the same time, a great desire to love God.

Our way of living religious life, of loving God, was gone, and what was before us held no joy, no interest. Over and over we heard the sisters saying “If only I could go home!” The “great restlessness” prevailed in us. Many of us were unable to read, or to focus on the task at hand. Our chapter decrees and action plans seemed increasingly irrelevant. And yet, there remained a fragile but very real desire to love God and to love God’s people.

3) There is a painful sense that it’s all my own fault, a result of my sinfulness.

Why ever did Mother Clare build a motherhouse and academy in swampland eighty years ago?

Why did we blindly assume year after year that the predictions of “the big one” were overkill,

or that the Corps of Engineers and the Levee Boards were really attentive to their responsibilities? Why did we build a city below sea level? And anyway, we are old and it seems that religious life is dying anyway. Perhaps our vision of religious life post-Vatican II is not God’s will for us?

St. John teaches that in the classic Dark Night we face two temptations:

1. to try harder to pray the old way; to be more disciplined

2. to give up praying

Today, we New Orleanians face the same two temptations: to work very hard to make everything just as it used to be, “to fix things.” Or just give up. Leave, or resign ourselves to living a diminished life in an increasingly violent, poor, broken city.

Neither is acceptable! There can be no pining for the past and no giving up on the whole enterprise!

In the classic Dark Night, what St. John counsels is a silent, loving, attentiveness to God. We are to avoid moving prematurely to a “solution.” In The Interior Castle, John’s great friend, Teresa, wrote “The point is not to think much, but to love much , so do that which helps you to love.”

What helped us to love in this dark night?

Initially, to be lovingly attentive was simply to find everyone and then to find housing for nearly 50 displaced sisters. Sister Lawrence, my assistant, engaged the help of her family in West Louisiana. They housed sixteen of our elderly sisters and their caregivers for three weeks!

To be lovingly attentive was to gather the sisters together as soon as possible for support and to communicate whatever information we did have, to continue to communicate through emails when phone lines were activated, to secure automobiles to replace at least some of those lost, to care for those sisters with difficult personalities. Many times that “loving attentiveness” was difficult. I may be paraphrasing slightly, but Dostoevsky wrote that “Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.” That is true but often love during these last few months has often been simply tedious and aggravating.

In his poetry, John refers to the night as the “night more lovely than the dawn.” This night has been lovely because of God’s faithful, though often silent, presence. It has been lovely because of your generous outpouring of assistance, the prayers, financial support, phone calls, books to replace our flooded library. I sense no “Katrina fatigue” on the part of the members of LCWR or within our Carmelite family. Rather, there is the sustaining presence of God incarnate in all of you. I believe that this “Katrina experience” is the great grace of our lives...a night, yes, but a night that we will see has been “more lovely than the dawn.”

St. John teaches that the gift of the Dark Night is that our image of God is purified and we grow in our capacity to love

I believe that is happening in us. I see a deeper sense of solidarity with those who suffer and a deepening capacity to forgive, to let the past be past. We are learning, painfully, that God really is enough for the human soul. “Let nothing disturb thee, nothing affright thee. All things are passing; God never changes. Patience wins all. God alone is enough.”

Sylvia Thibodeaux, SSF

I would, first, like to give thanks to God for affording me this opportunity in behalf of all the Congregation of Sisters here from New Orleans to thank LCWR and all women religious for their kind and generous response to us in a time of extreme need. Women religious proved that we are sister-sisters in a real and Christian way. Women religious shared their time generously, their talents and the resources that they hold in common on behalf of the poor.

Some of you may not know who we Sisters of the Holy Family are. You may have read bits and pieces about us in the Catholic Encyclopedia and an occasional article in a newspaper or magazine; however, as Katrina put the real New Orleans on the map, so did Katrina place the Holy Family Sisters in the eye of the public.

BRIEF HISTORY

Let me tell you a little of who we are. We were founded in New Orleans in 1842 by a free woman of color of African descent by the name of Henriette Delille. Her outstanding virtues were love and courage. Being a woman of African descent she was not allowed to join the existing religious orders of her day. Being a woman of great courage, she convinced two of her friends to help to establish a confraternity. The members of this confraternity were committed to caring for each other and caring for widows and children. Eventually Henriette Delille established a religious order. In the beginning they were very poor. They went out on the streets and begged not only for themselves, but for those they ministered to – the abandoned slaves, the elderly poor, and those with no opportunity for education.

This work founded by Henriette Delille included a nursing home for the poor and a girl’s school. At the turn of the century her Sisters established two orphanages, one for girls and one for boys. Later were added two independent living facilities for the elderly poor, child development centers, and a free school. The Sisters also teach in parish schools in the United States, and serve in the missions in Belize, Central America, and Nigeria, West Africa. Most of these ministries continued uninterruptedly until the destruction by Hurricane Katrina. Our pioneer Sisters suffered greatly from both Church and society, for the laws governing the Church were similar to those of the State. Our Sisters experienced the same suffering, rejection, and humiliation that our people endured. After the Civil War, things changed a bit. Blacks held offices in the Louisiana Legislature. New laws ushered in Jim Crowism which eventually led to segregation and America became two societies, one black and one white.

Chronicling the early history of our Congregation, Sister Bernard Deggs tells how in spite of all the suffering the Sisters endured, they were very forgiving and held no resentment in their hearts. Today the Cause of this holy and courageous woman, Henriette Delille, is officially opened for canonization.

On the morning of August 28, 2006, our lives were forever changed. Hurricane Katrina levied the worst natural disaster in the history of the Nation. All of our ministries were located in the direct path of this hurricane. As a result our facilities were greatly impacted.

CHALLENGES FOR LEADERSHIP

The challenge for leadership at this time was how to move the Sisters as quickly as possible out of harm’s way. Our evacuation plan called for the use of ambulances, emergency vehicles, vans, and cars. Each car was equipped with water, food, cell phone, gas cards, and other emergency needs. Our destination was Central and North Louisiana. Prior arrangements had been made at a retreat center, a nursing home, and an assisted living facility to house our Sisters. Seventy-one Sisters were evacuated from the Motherhouse including our Sisters from the nursing home.

While leaving the City, knowing that the storm was coming, the lead ambulance driver brought us to the infamous Superdome saying that the Governor had ordered all emergency vehicles to remain in the City. I had to call on my inner strength and fortitude to do what I had to do. I said, very strongly, “This is unacceptable. You have a contract with us. You must honor this contract. I will call my attorney.” Following a few phone calls by the driver and more discussion, we were driven from the Superdome to our destination. We arrived at our destination after 14 and a half hours, a trip which would ordinarily take about three and a half to four hours.

LIVING WITH THE REAL QUESTIONS

How to deal with the Sisters who were getting sick – physically and emotionally presented another challenge. There were frequent trips to the emergency room. The Sisters were traumatized. Others were worried about their family. Some had concern about their animals. The Sisters did not have sufficient medicine, clothing, and other necessities for living away from home for more than three days.

How long would we have to be away was of great concern. What were the conditions of our facilities in New Orleans? How were and where were our Sisters who did not evacuate? What about the condition of the residents in our nursing facility? And

where to bury our dead?

What do these kinds of challenges and experiences do for a person in leadership? You know you are responsible. Somehow, someway God provides the help to continue from day to day. I had the support of my Sisters. I felt I was not alone. I had support from many people we know. People were so concerned for our welfare. They came to visit us and to offer support. My personal strength was drawn from all of these. I learned how to move from moment to moment. There is no time to plan for tomorrow. Everything is handled day to day. I prayed in ways I had never prayed before- from the depths of my innermost being. I talked to God as I walked from building to building and from one area to another. My faith grew. I drew from past experiences. I lived in Africa for 18 years. I am co-founder of an indigenous congregation. I relied on the grace of office. Daily I prayed the prayer of Henriette Delille, “I believe in God. I hope in God. I love. I want to live and die for God.” As a black woman, I drew from the spiritual richness of our people and our historical roots.

WHAT HAVE WE DONE SINCE KATRINA?

We have provided support and counseling services, spiritual and emotional, for all of the Sisters. We gave financial aid to our employees. We held planning workshops for our Sisters. This service was made available through the generosity of religious women.

Our Sisters are teaching in Catholic and public schools to help support the Congregation.

Forty-seven Sisters have returned to the Motherhouse and are living on the second and third floors. Efforts are being made to restore the first floor. Twenty Sisters are still living in FEMA trailers.

Chapel repairs have been started. St. Mary’s Academy, our high school, opened as a 4 year old pre K to 12^th grade school August 14, 2006 in a gift-leased building from the Archdiocese. Almost 700 students reported.

In the meantime we are seeking financial aid for our two independent living facilities for the elderly poor. The Congregation awaits the resolutions of the legal issues surrounding Lafon Nursing Facility of the Holy Family before restoration.

Many groups from all over the nation including students from high schools, colleges, youth groups, religious women and men, bishops and others came to help in our restoration efforts.

In spite of all these challenges, the Congregation remained steadfast. This was evident by the fact that we carried on our usual activities – retreat, jubilee celebration, and general chapter.

KATRINA: A METAPHOR FOR THIS TIME IN THE HISTORY OF RELIGIOUS LIFE

KATRINA TODAY IS THE NEW ORLEANS OF OUR EARLY HISTORY.

As I said in the beginning, the charism for our foundation was to care for the poor, the neglected, and the abandoned slaves. Our Sisters, like the neglected, the abandoned slaves, and the poor, experienced rejection from both Church and society. We sat in the back seat of the bus. We could not eat in restaurants, stay in hotels, and attend colleges. Katrina dealt us a similar blow. The face of the poor of New Orleans became visible to the world during this natural disaster. The poor continue to be victimized.

CONCLUSION

Today we find ourselves at a moment in our history where we must recapture and return to the early inspiration, spirit, and vision of our Foundress. “I believe in God. I hope in God. I love. I want to live and die for God.” We are charged to adapt this to our times; to be creative, fearless, and bold- to dare to refound the Sisters of the Holy Family for today’s world. We have no choice. At the heart of this refounding is our spirituality, our prayer, our discernment. For we live in the midst of a society struggling between two chasms – one to live and one to die; we live in a wasteland replete with violence, terror, racism, injustice, and lack of value for life. The image of the local Church was made holier by the actions of our early Sisters. We want to do the same today. Therefore, we Sisters of the Holy Family dedicate ourselves to the building of the family. We model our lives on the family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. We also commit ourselves anew to help rebuild our City by our work for justice and total respect for the dignity and sacredness of each person of whatever creed or ethic origin.

THE HOPE

The hope is that the Congregation is strongly committed to keeping the charisms of Mother Henriette Delille alive. The struggle is to adapt those charisms to our times.

Dorothy Trosclair, OP

Meaningless and chaotic are profound descriptors of Katrina -driving wind and water pounding marshlands and barrier islands that protected Gulf coast lands, surging wind and water breaking levees, and washing away soil, trees, animals, boats, cars, homes, buildings, churches, people - overwhelming wind and water destroying dreams, security, trust: Any semblance of life as it was before Katrina is gone; what remains is ecological devastation and displaced people. How does one lead? I left home with three changes of clothing, and medication for five days.

I always knew there could be a storm that could destroy the city: the signs were there, but down deep I never believed it would be in my lifetime and especially not during my leadership watch. How does one lead when most of what I learned about leadership before Katrina was not available to me? I will focus on four elements, but there were many more:

« Discernment which is at the heart of leadership takes time - prayer, dialogue, weighing the pros and cons, - we had no time. Our leadership team made life and death decisions to leave NO, who would go where and with whom, in five minutes, and evacuation plans became a reality.

« Communication - land lines, cell phones, Internet, and postal service that we count on to keep us connected across the miles were wiped out at a time when we most needed good communication.