I've come a long way in being able to talk and write about Hurricane Katrina. I used to find it paralyzing, as if I couldn't breathe when I reached for the words. Like I was still trapped in that room in south Mississippi, the water rising as the wind pushed it in from the window sills. I had never seen water do that before, and I had been though quite a few hurricanes by that point.
Tomorrow, I'll be publishing a piece longer than I've ever written before about the storm and how it still shapes who I am today. How it lingers in the high-water lines, engrained itself into our vocabulary, and festers like an untreated wound.
The term “a survivor” resonates less than “the maimed” or “the scarred” or “the alive but still there.”
I’ve already seen several pieces published this week from “outsiders” in the lead up to the 20th anniversary tomorrow. I found tremendous difficulty in reading them beyond the first few paragraphs. And these were decent articles written by people I admire. I found m…
