Last week in Venice, LA I asked a diverse group of people what they loved about living in Louisiana. I then asked them what they feared most about the oil spill. This is what they told me. Music by The Lost Bayou Ramblers.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
BP Oil Spill endangers the traditional life for local tribe
I produced this video for National Wildlife Federation. We featured the Atakapa Ishak Native American tribe of Grand Bayou Village in Plaquemines Parish.
Friday, June 25, 2010
A Way of Life in Danger: The People of St. Bernard
Here is a video that I produced for National Wildlife Federation about people in St. Bernard who have ties to the coastal wetlands.
Monday, June 21, 2010
On the ground update 6-19-10
Today I filmed in the Barataria Basin with Aaron Viles from the Gulf Restoration Network and the Atakapa Ishak Indians from Grand Bayou Village.
The trip was lead by Rosina and Maurice Phillipe who are descended from a long line of Atakapas. During French colonization their Atakapa ancestors taught settlers how to survive in the coastal marshes. Through this interaction, the Atakapas learned the French language and passed it down to folks like Rosina and Maurice.
Today, the Atakapas of Grand Bayou live a very traditional way of life in raised houses only accessible by boat. They make a living fishing and trapping and for the most part sustain themselves on local resources. For all of the recent media attention they've been getting, the Phillipes were still very willing to tour us around and talk about their culture.
We took a straight shot man-made canal out to Barataria Bay where Maurice pointed out acres of his oyster grounds that were now hit by the oil. Miles and miles of the marsh grass were caked with oil. This site weighed heavy on all of us, especially Maurice.
On the way back in, we took natural bayous that bended and curved through the marsh. Maurice navigated them with ease -- the kind that one gets after a lifetime spent on the water.
When we were near the village again, Maurice pointed out the location of the Atakapa burial grounds. These sacred sites were no more than 3-4 miles from where we last spotted oil.
It was a great experience to be out with the Atakapas and I look forward to seeing their resilience in reacting to this disaster.
The trip was lead by Rosina and Maurice Phillipe who are descended from a long line of Atakapas. During French colonization their Atakapa ancestors taught settlers how to survive in the coastal marshes. Through this interaction, the Atakapas learned the French language and passed it down to folks like Rosina and Maurice.
Today, the Atakapas of Grand Bayou live a very traditional way of life in raised houses only accessible by boat. They make a living fishing and trapping and for the most part sustain themselves on local resources. For all of the recent media attention they've been getting, the Phillipes were still very willing to tour us around and talk about their culture.
We took a straight shot man-made canal out to Barataria Bay where Maurice pointed out acres of his oyster grounds that were now hit by the oil. Miles and miles of the marsh grass were caked with oil. This site weighed heavy on all of us, especially Maurice.
On the way back in, we took natural bayous that bended and curved through the marsh. Maurice navigated them with ease -- the kind that one gets after a lifetime spent on the water.
When we were near the village again, Maurice pointed out the location of the Atakapa burial grounds. These sacred sites were no more than 3-4 miles from where we last spotted oil.
It was a great experience to be out with the Atakapas and I look forward to seeing their resilience in reacting to this disaster.
Friday, June 18, 2010
My NWF Video with Dave Mizejewski
I did this video for the National Wildlife Federation. It features Dave Mizejewski who is a naturalist with NWF. Dave and I share many of the same views on how humans and animals are connected in the ecosystem. It was a pleasure to work with him and to produce this video for NWF.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
On the ground update 6-14-10
7 miles is all we had to ride from Myrtle Grove Marina to find oil coating the marshes. I was shocked. My previous trips to the oiled wetlands have been out of Venice and down the Mississippi River -- some 30-40 miles from civilization. Now, we're at 7.
Usually when I visit the Myrtle Grove Marina, I'm picking up market shrimp for fishing trips to Magnolia, an area about 13 miles down Highway 23. Magnolia is known amongst kayak fisherman as one of the most accessible and productive spots in South Louisiana and it's not uncommon to fill a kayak with a limit of redfish in a day spent there. It's an easy paddle from the highway and very little motor boat traffic offers a safe experience. Now the oil is 7 miles away from Magnolia. I can't tell from the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries fishing closure maps whether Maganolia is still open or not. I would love to take a day off and go fishing there, but I'm asking myself if I would really want to eat fish that could have been exposed to the toxic goo.
Not far from the 7 mile spot where we first saw oil was the mobile command center for cleanup operations. Men in hard hats and life vests worked on barges piled high with hard boom, absorbent boom, and bags of plastic pom poms. All different types of boats pulled in and out as fishermen left for cleanup assignments. Oiled white boom lined the banks of the adjacent marshes.
For someone who has never spent time in the wetlands, this may not have been a tough sight to see, but for me it was devastating. The marsh is where I go to escape the hustle and bustle of my everyday life. The peaceful serenity of a wide open prairie and slow moving bayous offers me a release that can't be found anywhere else. The fish and waterfowl that I take from this environment lets me sustain myself in a way that my ancestors did. Now, the marsh has been transformed into a noisy, oily mess and we've yet to figure out a way to stop the leak.
Usually when I visit the Myrtle Grove Marina, I'm picking up market shrimp for fishing trips to Magnolia, an area about 13 miles down Highway 23. Magnolia is known amongst kayak fisherman as one of the most accessible and productive spots in South Louisiana and it's not uncommon to fill a kayak with a limit of redfish in a day spent there. It's an easy paddle from the highway and very little motor boat traffic offers a safe experience. Now the oil is 7 miles away from Magnolia. I can't tell from the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries fishing closure maps whether Maganolia is still open or not. I would love to take a day off and go fishing there, but I'm asking myself if I would really want to eat fish that could have been exposed to the toxic goo.
Not far from the 7 mile spot where we first saw oil was the mobile command center for cleanup operations. Men in hard hats and life vests worked on barges piled high with hard boom, absorbent boom, and bags of plastic pom poms. All different types of boats pulled in and out as fishermen left for cleanup assignments. Oiled white boom lined the banks of the adjacent marshes.
For someone who has never spent time in the wetlands, this may not have been a tough sight to see, but for me it was devastating. The marsh is where I go to escape the hustle and bustle of my everyday life. The peaceful serenity of a wide open prairie and slow moving bayous offers me a release that can't be found anywhere else. The fish and waterfowl that I take from this environment lets me sustain myself in a way that my ancestors did. Now, the marsh has been transformed into a noisy, oily mess and we've yet to figure out a way to stop the leak.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
My American Indetity after the BP Oil Spill
Last Thursday, the sun was setting over Delacroix Island as Jerry Alfonso manned our flat boat down Bayou Gentilly. My eyes were fixed on the blood orange sky drifting over the marsh grass. Mottled ducks flew over pipeline canals and the smell of salt water and sticky marshes blew with the wind rushing past me. "This is my home" were the words that played in my head and in that moment my American identity changed forever.
I am ashamed to say that I have not heard of any other place in America where its citizens have yet to claim their right to exist. We at the Mississippi River's Delta have no voice. Every day we see more of our coastline disappear and now a massive oil spill threatens our natural resources. Some say that we are treated like a colony. By all accounts of coastal land loss and the long term sacrifices we've made, we are in a losing battle with the Gulf of Mexico. Does America realize that we are being attacked ?
For more than a thousand years the inhabitants of Coastal Louisiana found sustenance in the estuaries forged by the confluence of the river and the gulf. The sheer abundance of the region blessed the people with the necessities of survival. There was little separation between the people and the land. Agrarian life certainly had its downfalls but communities were built and often times flourished.
South Louisiana evolved through this connection and continued to do so until mankind began to severely alter the landscape in the 1930's. The consequences of these actions would deteriorate one third of the entire region by the time Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005. During this disaster, the water overtook the land like never seen before and the nation turned its eyes to us. We were in the spotlight for a while but when the media left we were on our own. Volunteers poured in to support us and they helped to restore the region. Where FEMA left off, good Americans pulled together, got to work, and rebuilt their lives from the ground up...literally.
The oil spill is the new major challenge for our region. This time nature plays the passive role as a corporation and a lack of government oversight are the major threat. Leaders are emerging on a local level, but most of us feel alienated from the rest of the country. We've had hurricanes, and lots of them, but this beast has us backed into a corner.
BP is our common enemy and rightly so. The company is the face of evil and we want them punished. If laws are upheld and the American justice system prevails, we might get our wish.
As for the future, we have no idea of what this oil will do to our ecosystem. The spill combined with the rate of ongoing wetlands loss may cause damages that we can never recover from.
With this I am considering my roles in forming this disaster. Opposing political parties seem to want me to hate myself for being addicted to oil or to endlessly support a company's right to earn profit. I don't see any of these lawmakers and naysayers out on the bayou. They don't know how to make a roux, peel a crawfish, or where I'm at. Yet I have been living with much more than my great-grandparents ever did. They had less and conserved more and I can't honestly say I know how to do this.
I enjoy being comfortable, driving where I'm going, and using my laptop. The fossil fuels I burn to enjoy these things are one of the many resources this earth has to offer. I'm not going to be able to stop using fossil fuels, I know this, but I can begin to be more conservative in the way that I use them.
As for alternatives, I don't have many options. I can walk and bike more, turn off the lights when I leave, and try to avoid plastics. I could also develop a long term plan to curb my energy use. I'll have to do something, because the status quo got us into this mess and I surely won't be leaving the place I love if I don't have to.
I will never be the same after this experience and I am inviting anyone who wants to change to join me. I'm going to take a hard look at the way I use energy and consume products. I'm not going off the grid or yelling about a falling sky. I'm going to learn my lesson and not be defeated. I will do what it takes to protect my home and prepare for the future. I may have to make some lifestyle changes, so be it...my great-grandparents did it. This oil spill and the wetlands loss are attacks on American soil and if I don't look seriously at my role in this, there will be no future for South Louisiana.
I am ashamed to say that I have not heard of any other place in America where its citizens have yet to claim their right to exist. We at the Mississippi River's Delta have no voice. Every day we see more of our coastline disappear and now a massive oil spill threatens our natural resources. Some say that we are treated like a colony. By all accounts of coastal land loss and the long term sacrifices we've made, we are in a losing battle with the Gulf of Mexico. Does America realize that we are being attacked ?
For more than a thousand years the inhabitants of Coastal Louisiana found sustenance in the estuaries forged by the confluence of the river and the gulf. The sheer abundance of the region blessed the people with the necessities of survival. There was little separation between the people and the land. Agrarian life certainly had its downfalls but communities were built and often times flourished.
South Louisiana evolved through this connection and continued to do so until mankind began to severely alter the landscape in the 1930's. The consequences of these actions would deteriorate one third of the entire region by the time Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005. During this disaster, the water overtook the land like never seen before and the nation turned its eyes to us. We were in the spotlight for a while but when the media left we were on our own. Volunteers poured in to support us and they helped to restore the region. Where FEMA left off, good Americans pulled together, got to work, and rebuilt their lives from the ground up...literally.
The oil spill is the new major challenge for our region. This time nature plays the passive role as a corporation and a lack of government oversight are the major threat. Leaders are emerging on a local level, but most of us feel alienated from the rest of the country. We've had hurricanes, and lots of them, but this beast has us backed into a corner.
BP is our common enemy and rightly so. The company is the face of evil and we want them punished. If laws are upheld and the American justice system prevails, we might get our wish.
As for the future, we have no idea of what this oil will do to our ecosystem. The spill combined with the rate of ongoing wetlands loss may cause damages that we can never recover from.
With this I am considering my roles in forming this disaster. Opposing political parties seem to want me to hate myself for being addicted to oil or to endlessly support a company's right to earn profit. I don't see any of these lawmakers and naysayers out on the bayou. They don't know how to make a roux, peel a crawfish, or where I'm at. Yet I have been living with much more than my great-grandparents ever did. They had less and conserved more and I can't honestly say I know how to do this.
I enjoy being comfortable, driving where I'm going, and using my laptop. The fossil fuels I burn to enjoy these things are one of the many resources this earth has to offer. I'm not going to be able to stop using fossil fuels, I know this, but I can begin to be more conservative in the way that I use them.
As for alternatives, I don't have many options. I can walk and bike more, turn off the lights when I leave, and try to avoid plastics. I could also develop a long term plan to curb my energy use. I'll have to do something, because the status quo got us into this mess and I surely won't be leaving the place I love if I don't have to.
I will never be the same after this experience and I am inviting anyone who wants to change to join me. I'm going to take a hard look at the way I use energy and consume products. I'm not going off the grid or yelling about a falling sky. I'm going to learn my lesson and not be defeated. I will do what it takes to protect my home and prepare for the future. I may have to make some lifestyle changes, so be it...my great-grandparents did it. This oil spill and the wetlands loss are attacks on American soil and if I don't look seriously at my role in this, there will be no future for South Louisiana.
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