VIOLET, LA. i’ll forfeit my secret aspiration of writing like a professional journalist and give a holla out to all my loved ones that read this journal… cause that’s 90 percent of who reads it. to my chicago friends. to family in north carolina, virginia, iowa, oregon, california. to my big sis in nyc. and little sis in santa cruz. to sleeper in minneapolis. (let it be known, too, that there is an amazing woman, marisha, working now at HOPE because she found this journal, sent me an email, then called me up on the phone to get directions out to violet, louisiana. i feel good about helping guide someone out here to this collective organization, and especially good because she has helped make this organization even more beautiful today.)

i want to say i love you to every friend i’ve ever made who knows i’m out here. so many of you have kept me in your thoughts and sent me words of positive encouragement. without you i wouldn’t be able to get out of bed and work so hard. you give me the confidence and light to do what i do here.

i’ve kept out of touch with all of you, neglecting my journal and losing touch through a lack of writing letters or making phone calls. but it’s all because i am busy and living in a bit of isolation with just a handful of HOPE people and the ten percent of the community that has moved back home. right now, we reside in two houses. one is a free store (food, clothing, supplies distribution) with a second story for office space and living. the other house is just for living. but neither house has electricity. at this moment, a generator is growling in the background to provide some light in the kitchen and living space at the two story house. the water is running, but the plumbing still needs work, and even so, the tap water brimming with ridiculous levels of arsenic. we can’t filter our water with normal filter systems or even wash our vegetables without bottled water… and don’t get me started on the lack of vegetables around here. we’re secluded on an island of toxic soil and ground water, rebuilding amongst mold and lead and asbestos and oil. so why are we all still here? why do people want to move back in? i can’t forget this is home for others, no matter how dangerous it is to live here. the ability to leave and choose a cleaner living space is a privilege i’m ready to let go of for now, in trade for the chance to help those who cannot choose to leave. it’s not my place to tell people to go somewhere else. but it’s my choice not to leave, to work with the community that has asked us to stay. to work against the systems that created this unsafe environment in order to make life better for those who call this place home.

am i crazy? am i going too far? let me know what you think.

HOPE had a vision meeting the other night. about a dozen HOPE volunteers and four local residents were in attendance. we went around the circle and stated how long we’ve been here, when we plan on leaving (which is soon for most volunteers), and our vision for HOPE. it was heartwarming to listen to people speak on their dreams for what could happen here. and sobering to discuss what the community needs to get back on it’s feet. i responded briefly about how i don’t have a detailed vision really, but feel that there’s something natural about letting things fall into place. feeling out what a community needs instead of implementing our desires in a community that is not ours. and i hope to help teach and assist with afterschool programs for local youth. after the group share circled around and there was a pause, i added that i had made a decision to stay. despite all the close comrades here that will be leaving soon to travel and see family, i will remain. i have chosen to live in the house we reside in on Guerra Street for as long as we have permission to live there… which is 18 months at this moment. i think my decision has helped provide some relief to others, relief because of many reasons. there was some smiles around when i made my announcement. and i’m glad i can add some stability to the organization by being here to follow through with our promises to the community. for me it’s a little like diving into the deep end, and it took a long time for me to come to this decision–to be confident in making my promise to this community. but it feels entirely realistic and i feel entirely welcome here. thank you, violet. thank you, HOPE. thank you to all the spirits and ghosts that led me here to find my way. i am discovering happiness again, and being happy by myself.