HumidCity

Violence. It surrounds us these days more than ever. From the vicious slayings of the city streets to the consistent array of rapes and hazings at Tulane University we are suffering a deluge of it. Both the city and the University desperately need enforcement. This is an issue with pre storm roots.

Along with the violence comes the pungent aroma of fear. I know I am subject to it.

City streets seem darker and more threatening than ever and small movements caught in the eye’s corner make you jump almost out of your skin. Everyone has those moments whether they admit it out loud or not. Its part of life in the city, especially these days.

So how far do we allow fear to propel us? Where do we find the line between making ourselves safe from extraordinary circumstances and sacrificing our liberty for perceived safety? Ben Franklin once said that those who abandon liberty for safety deserve neither. But how to stay firm in that resolve when you have a family?

Citizens for 1 Greater New Orleans and the Holy Cross Neighborhood Association want us to sign their petition to keep the National Guard in NOLA. With my office located in the Bywater and a lovely wife at home Uptown I find myself supporting that aim. At the same time I cringe at the thought of endorsing the concept of armed troops on American soil, especially ours.

In the French Quarter a new initiative has begun - cameras in every window. QuarterSafe is something I only just discovered when they sent me an email about an hour ago. Its a movement to have people hook up cameras to their computers watching the streets of the Vieux Carre. “Orwellian,” was my first thought. “Could it work?” was my second. After reading in the Times-Picayune that violent crime is up 20% and rape is up 85% I find I am not not as secure in my ideals as I would like to be. Perhaps the 20+ funerals I have been party to since the levee failure has something to do with it as well.

I am merely ruminating here. I have no magic solution, no wave of a Harry Potter wand to dispel the complexity of what faces us. I just know this:

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

We must face our fears and determine our proper course. In the final analysis it is a dialectic between each individual and their own conscience.

So, how do YOU feel about the New Orleans Brand ™?

Loki, HumidCity Founder

[EDIT: And then Karen G. points me at this as a coda.]

The following is a guest post by my dear friend Chelidon:

Fear is insidious, and it can be used as an excuse to be passive, to be “safe.” And in one of the oldest tricks in the book. we can be force-fed fear by those who have a vested interest in keeping us perpetually afraid — of rapists, of terrorists, and of gays, or “liberals,” or people who don’t look or act like us. And we do live in a culture of fear. What power and freedom do we give up out of the fear of terrorists? What power and freedom do we give up out of fear of rape, of assault, of humiliation, or of just being seen as a ball-buster, an asshole, a bitch, a wimp, not a “real” woman or a “real” man?

Looking at the edges of situations, the boundaries, often teaches something about what’s inside the extremes. Because we’re afraid of pedophiles, of media-hyped myths of poison apples, most kids don’t go out on Halloween anymore, except perhaps to a mall. Children lose the chance to go out on their own and learn to be self-reliant, and to explore grappling with and overcoming an environment which is full of (mostly harmless) fear. They lose that experience of empowerment, of exploring their edges and discovering that they are more capable than they knew, that they can overcome their fears. They lose the chance to make real connections, and have a real experience. Instead, they just get another pre-sweetened neon-lit commercial experience, devoid of any real content, significance, or edgy fun. They learn to hide inside the familiar, and that you can buy the illusion of a safe world, as long as you keep spending and don’t ever go outside the sanitized confines of Bennigans, Gap and Rainforest Cafe, as long as you stay inside the mass-media marketing campaigns and carefully-researched consumer demographics.

Because we’re afraid of rape, or assault, we don’t go out alone for a walk. A bus crashes half-way around the world, two people die, and we hear of it instantly. Should we be afraid to ride the bus? Should we be afraid to take a walk in the woods? We learn to think in worst-case scenarios. Is the chance that I, or you, may be assaulted worth missing out on a perfect sunset, or a midnight walk? Depends on how likely that assault is, perhaps, and it’s impossible to escape the insidious fear when we’re constantly bombarded by horror stories and worst-case scenarios.

But it’s also true that rates of reported rape and assault are down across most of the U.S, and that is, in addition to population dynamics (aging population, shrinking proportion of young males, etc), also, arguably, due to education, some changes in social norms, and, yes, fear — people being, depending on how you look at it, less risky. Is it worth it?

We have had no successful terrorist attacks in the U.S. post-9/11. That may or may not have anything to do with any specific action or actions taken by anyone in government, and there’s no way to make any real causal links, though any number of people are quick to claim credit. There’s no end of people in power determined to milk the situation for all the fear they can generate, and all the power they can grab because people are afraid. How much freedom are we willing to lose in the pursuit of absolute safety? How much risk is “worth it,” and how much is too much?

I don’t have any certain answers, nobody does — if there were easy answers, we’d all have them and it would be a moot point. But asking the questions, and grappling with them, is one of the most important things we do as humans.

A pinch of panic, a dash of unease, and one hefty spoonful (make that two!) of propaganda. Add to a simmering pot of rubble and stir under NOLA heat until nicely thickened. Garnish with denial and serve with side dishes of optimism and hard work.

Voila! One heaping helping of Hurricane Season!

Things here are scary, depressing, uplifting, insane, and unpredictable. We are all wondering exactly how we feel about the advent of Storm Season here, by turns hopeful and fearful. The mountainous evidence of the Corps of Engineers’ design failures act as a counterpoint to efforts like the Katrina Krewe and ThinkNOLA.

As I sit and catch my breath after riding my bike home throught the darkened streets I reflect upon my last two hours, teaching a Web Publishing Workshop to community and civic activists and leaders. There is plenty of good and bad floating in this gumbo, we just have to make the right efforts to ensure that the good is triumphant!