Images worth a thousand words

When seeing images or video of natural disasters occurring, two kinds of thoughts run through my mind. Of course, my first reaction is one of sympathy; my thoughts go to those affected by the disaster, those whose homes were destroyed or whose families were displaced. Sympathy in times like that is the natural response, dictated by human nature. In addition to that though, I am made explicitly aware of my good fortune in life. I have never had to move homes after a tornado or fire, and I have never lost a loved one in a flood or hurricane. Until very recently, my only exposure to natural disasters of this kind was through news articles and televised reports, but my ability to empathize was limited.

When Hurricane Sandy hit, my reaction was different, deepened by a proximity to the disaster both literal and figurative. Of the areas hit by the storm, the New York City metropolitan area and the Jersey Shore were some of the worst affected. Images of the destroyed Seaside Boardwalk (where I celebrated my high school graduation) and the flooding of the Hoboken PATH train terminal (from where I commuted to work this summer) made the storm much more of a reality for me.

Again, I am lucky that none of my friends or family were injured or hurt, but having a personal connection to the situation has now made it easier for me to put myself in the shoes of those affected by Hurricane Katrina. While watching "When the Levees Broke," I could better understand the fear New Orleanians were feeling and the frustration they aimed at the political system and its inefficient handlings of the situation in the days after.

The major players in the relief efforts were the President, FEMA Director Michael Brown, Governor Kathleen Blanco, and New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin. 

NOLA's Superdome: From Devastation to Recovery

As I was telling my dad about 11.027 and what's in store for this semester, he was reminded of this video from CBS news. It aired just a few hours before the Super Bowl, showing how important the Superdome is to the city and what it represents.

The report was made before the game--and thus before the blackout of half the stadium--but I still think it makes an interesting point; that buildings and structures are often much more than just a physical part of the landscape. They become part of the culture and can often act as symbols of the city and the community. 

One week in...

I had little-to-no exposure to New Orleans before registering for this class. Besides seeing video footage of Mardi Gras parades and news coverage of Hurricane Katrina, I didn't know what a complex city New Orleans has evolved into since its founding.

I mentioned this a little bit in class, but the moment of New Orleans' history that strikes me the most is the period of time when New Orleans went from being one of the wealthiest cities in the nation -- a sort of cultural and economic mecca -- to a city plagued with political corruption, inefficient infrastructure, and racial tensions. Obviously there isn't one specific moment in time to which this change can be attributed, but it begs the question: how do some cities avoid this seemingly inevitable fall from grace?

I'm eager to learn more about New Orleans and how its history plays a role in planning today. I consider myself an optimist in that I'd like to believe that whatever caused New Orleans to lose its status as a center of the nation can be reversed. History is cyclical, and I am confident that New Orleans will soon come upon the next upward trend. 

Yo soy boricua, pa' que tu lo sepas!

As the title of this post suggests, I am a proud Puerto Rican. My parents were born on the island, grew up there, and then made the familiar migration north to New York. Once there, my brothers and I were born. At a young age, we moved to suburban New Jersey where we were raised.

Despite my upbringing in a largely white, upper-middle class area, I was constantly reminded of my Puerto Rican roots. My family took frequent visits to relatives on the island, and my childhood was filled with Puerto Rican food, music, culture, and values.

It is with this blend of both the American suburban and Puerto Rican experiences that I approach this class. I've been lucky to witness many different parts of the urban landscape, both the well-to-do establishments of NJ and the seemingly forgotten hill communities of Puerto Rico. I've seen people with large manor-like properties, and people who built their homes with their own hands. I understand the concept of a city tied to its history and unwilling to sacrifice that in the name of creation and innovation.

My goal for this class is to bring my own double-sided perspective to the planning contexts of New Orleans. While my educational background is in engineering and not planning, I hope my personal background from both Suburban NJ and Puerto Rico will help bridge the gap.

Calle San Sebastian, Old San Juan, PR