A reflection on one Katrina baby and the power of community from ACE Founder, Emmy O’Dwyer

My son Elliot was born three weeks before Hurricane Katrina. We evacuated with him and his 18-month old sister before his first pediatric well visit. The family that took us in for three months (the lovely Whaley family of Panama City) lovingly nicknamed him “Squaker” because he cried A LOT. I wondered if he was picking up on our distress–as we obsessively watched the news. We watched in horror as the middle school where I had taught for six years was inundated, staff rescued by helicopter from its rooftops, a student reported missing and in need of critical medications…listening for any indication that we would have a home to return to. Here we are, evacuated, with big sister in the background, as we tried to pretend we were on vacation…

When we returned three and a half months later, we would learn that while I was pregnant, I contracted cytomegalovirus or CMV (a common illness that can be critically damaging for fetuses). The neurologist who diagnosed him told us that Elliot may not walk or talk, that he might eat through a tube, attend a different school than other children, and that his life expectancy might change. We were devastated by this news. Coupled with the devastation of our cities, failing systems, and the displaced community, our son’s health and concerns about his future were a gut punch. As I look back now, the shock and trauma of these events happening so close together was with me for almost a decade. Even as I have watched my son continually push for what’s possible. (The image below is of him at a check-up with the same neurologist for his twentieth birthday, hopping on one leg).

I have been anxiously anticipating how I might reflect on the twenty years since that time, with reminders all around us about the Katrina anniversary. Last week, I had the good fortune to participate in a learning session through Early Childhood Leaders of Color entitled, “Changing the Narrative: Storytelling as a Practice for Healing and Radical Rest.” The masterful facilitator provided us with several writing prompts, one of which asked us to “Share a time when you have experienced or witnessed healing, in yourself or someone else.” This felt like a new challenge to me–to think about the events that took place two decades ago through a lens of growth and healing.

While the images and reminders of Katrina still can bring me to tears, I am grateful to have experienced healing from so many.

1. Elliot’s team of therapists – They championed him and moved us from despair to hopefulness. By focusing less on his diagnosis and more on what is possible, we were grounded in his growth. In many ways, this was like the work I saw happening all around me. In our community, we were digging in to do what was necessary, even if it seemed overwhelming.
2. The Abeona House Community – My life and career shifted to early childhood after the storm. I wanted to be close to Elliot and his therapies, but we needed income, so with a group of revolutionary parents, I founded the first new child care center in New Orleans after Katrina. I foolishly thought I was “overqualified” because I had a teaching certificate [insert laughter here]. Nothing could prepare me for the fragmented, undervalued, and underfunded early learning system. Thankfully, the families and friendships we made there created a community that we could cling to, and that we still value and enjoy so deeply today. I am so grateful for their trust and confidence–and patience with me–as I was learning, growing, and hurting too.
3. Early childhood educators – Elliot did not need his mama at school with him to thrive. He needed loving, supported and aligned teachers to integrate our learning goals in an environment with his typical peers. I marveled at the expertise of the seasoned educators we were lucky enough to find: Ms. Gladys and Ms. Gwen continually challenged me as a mother, and on the improvements we needed to make at the center. From my experience at New Orleans Charter Middle School, I knew that finding the best teachers was critical, and frankly, I think this is what I did best. I could sense authentic, child-centered adults. It wasn’t always perfect, but it was key. And my children got to experience some amazing teachers including Ms. Aliza Plotkin, who would later serve as Center Director, Ms. Alli Brauer (now an LCSW in private practice), Ms. Nicole Foster (entrepreneur and thought partner), and Ms. Iesha Bethley, who is now a leader in the nursing community. There were many others. I marveled at how this work was critical to our family, and to the others returning to rebuild a city–and yet – we couldn’t pay them more, provide them with the benefits that they deserve, and help them reach their professional goals? These questions fuel my advocacy today. Because they deserve it all–and gave THEIR all to the children in our program.
4. Elliot. Oh Elliot. How many hours have you poured into therapies? Worked through learning challenges? Pushed us to do things independently? Told us to “stop hovering?” You have been on your own healing journey too– And you have created community, deep and abiding friendships, and new expectations for your potential. Your curiosity and social nature has also made us talk to more strangers than I have ever cared to–and taken us on new adventures including police car, golf cart, and boat rides. So many times, I have wanted to just put my head down and get to the next thing, but you have pushed me to see the community around us and participate in it fully. You have helped me to experience healing in ways that I never could have imagined 20 years ago. (Good luck on the election next week).

I’m personally grateful for the experiences that have strengthened me. While these seem professional in nature, they have strengthened me and been a part of my personal rebuilding and healing.

• The WKKF Community Leadership Fellowship Network – At some point, I realized that I had been fueled by inertia and not intention, and it was time to create a life that was not in reaction to trauma, fear, and worry. When I left my job at Abeona House, I wasn’t sure what I was moving towards. I was fortunate to be selected as a WKKF CLN fellow, along with 19 others in New Orleans, and 120 nationally. We had some funding for personal and professional growth–and I remember that I didn’t know how to answer the question, “What do you need?” I was living outside of my own body (and in service to everyone–as a servant leader, mom, community member). The questions around self care, and the other fellows (and Reggie LeGrand at WKKF) helped me to see myself fully, recognize my own potential, and give myself grace. Through this, I began to dream a bigger dream for myself, my family, and for Elliot. The community of leaders in this work are like family today, and each of them continues to do revolutionary change-making work that keeps me fueled for the New Orleans we are still building.

• Incredible leaders – like Dr. Anthony Recasner (my second principal) and the phenomenal reformers and builders at the Louisiana Department of Education (Jenna Conaway, Nasha Patel, Jessica Baghian, and Taylor Dunn) who believed in me and gave me a platform to get things done. I am so fortunate to have been shaped by leaders who are deeply committed to transformational work for children and families, and I continue to be inspired by them.

I’ll be happy when this Katrina anniversary season is behind me, but grateful for the perspective that helps me to see how far we have grown. I am, as Stephen Colbert shares, “learn(ing) to love the thing you wish had not happened.”