On Hurricane Katrina

No one who has watched the news at all this past week could help but feel a desperate compassion for the hundreds of thousands of people in Louisiana and Mississippi who have had their lives torn apart by Hurricane Katrina. Such devastation! Such suffering! Such pain! I can't even imagine how they feel. Forgotten, abandoned, hopeless. Our first response is to ask, "How can I help?"

But I found another response in my heart after watching the newscasts. I felt anger. And I'm not altogether sure why. I don't feel anger toward God. Or toward the government. Or toward any organization or official. But I do feel a certain amount of anger toward the "victims" of this tragedy.

First, it angers me that they didn't leave when evacuation orders were given. I understand that some were unable to leave town because of a lack of transportation or money. But they had 2 days warning. They could have hitchhiked. They could have done something.

I'm angry that people are looting and raping and shooting at relief workers. What are they thinking? Why do tragedies like this bring out the best -- and the worst -- in people? And why are so many of the poor also so uncaring toward their own that they would choose to hurt those who are already hurting? I just don't get it.

I'm angry because the victims are angry. They're hurting. We all understand that. But their anger reveals that they think they have some right to have relief provided for them. Given the compassion of Americans during catastrophes around the world, they do have a right to expect that people would also be compassionate toward them. But the folks in New Orleans act as if they are the only ones in need. And they forget that much of the efforts of the early rescuers was to actually rescue people whose lives were in danger. They were plucking people off rooftops, while those at the Superdome were crying because they wanted more food. I know they feel desperate. But I've fasted many, many times in my life. I've often gone a week without food. I've gone 3 weeks. And I wasn't terribly overweight when I started. And I survived. And I didn't complain.

Do you think it's because we're so spoiled here in America? We're not used to ever going a day without a meal. We think someone owes us something. We think we're entitled to quick relief and comfort.

Don't misunderstand. The situation is deplorable. But some of it I just don't understand. People urinating and defecating on the floor...? Pardon me, but wasn't there anyone there with any sense to suggest that they dig a hole outside and keep their personal waste away from everyone else? To me, that's common sense. Maybe the problem is that among the poor (those "left behind") there is very little leadership. Maybe their really was no one to step up and guide people. But no, I don't think someone else -- someone with a family of their own to care for, someone with enough sense to flee the category 5 hurricane -- should have been expected to stick around and put their life on the line for those who decided to stay in town.

When the tsunami hit in Indonesia, you saw pictures on television of the "victims" working to clear debris and to stack dead bodies away from the rest of the people. They were helping in search and rescue. But the victims in this hurricane all seem to be standing around waiting for someone else to do something for them, chanting, "We need help! We need help!" And they're angry that help isn't coming faster. I wonder if in the coming weeks we'll hear the refrain, "We detest this miserable manna."

One woman interviewed on TV tonight said, "We don't deserve to be treated this way!" What way? People everywhere are sending money. We're trying to get relief to them. People want to help. No one is treating them poorly. They're doing the best they can in a situation that is difficult. It's not too easy to get food to areas when the roads are impassable. For once I'd just like to see one person interviewed express thanks to God for protecting them and for the lives they have. I'd like to see someone express hope for the future.

Maybe I'm being too hard on them. I've never been in their position. I've never lost everything. But many others through the centuries have. And they survived not by waiting around for someone to help them and condemning the government for not responding quick enough -- but by garnering their inner strength, picking themselves up by the bootstraps, and making something happen.

Compassion and anger. Is there something wrong with me for feeling both? I'd love to hear what you think! Please leave a comment and help me out.