By Tonya Calhoun
Every year, as August 28 approaches, I find myself counting down the days — not just to celebrate another year of life but to reflect on the day Hurricane Katrina forever changed mine.
Growing up, my birthday was a time of joy, filled with streamers, balloons, and the aroma of my favorite local dishes. My mother always went out of her way to make it special, decorating our kitchen with bright colors and preparing my favorite meals. But on August 28, 2005, that joy was replaced by fear, anxiety, and a deep sense of loss.
Now living in Atlanta, Georgia, I’d planned to travel home for my birthday that year, but a looming storm forecast made me cancel my trip. Instead, I stayed in Atlanta, enjoying shrimp etouffee, French bread, and alligator bites with friends. We were having a great time, completely unaware of the devastation that was about to unfold.
But as I left the restaurant, my heart sank as images of my beloved city of New Orleans flashed across every TV screen. It was the day before Hurricane Katrina made landfall, and I watched in horror as the levees broke, the city flooded, and thousands of lives were turned upside down.
The devastation was severe — over $100 billion in damages, communities shattered, and more than 1,800 lives lost. I am grateful that my family survived, but the psychological scars remain. The trauma of that day left me with deep PTSD, and while I still look forward to celebrating my birthday, it now serves as a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the persistent threat of climate change.
As we mark the 19th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, I find myself asking: Are we better prepared as a nation to avoid such disasters? The answer is complicated. We’ve made progress, but the work is far from over.
In the years since Katrina, we’ve seen some promising developments. The Biden-Harris Administration’s Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), signed into law two years ago, represents the largest-ever public investment in climate action and clean energy in U.S. history.
This landmark legislation has funneled over $350 billion into climate initiatives, clean energy, and infrastructure, providing a critical lifeline to communities across the country. These investments have spurred sustainable infrastructure projects, incentivized clean energy developments, and created jobs essential for our transition to a cleaner, greener future.
But as extreme weather events continue to intensify, driven by climate change, the stakes couldn’t be higher. The hot, moist air thick with clouds, combined with the unusually warm waters of the Gulf, is a potent combination that can supercharge storms. And while climate change threatens everyone, its effects are not felt equally.
Black communities, like those in New Orleans, are disproportionately at risk. Historical redlining and systemic discrimination have left many of these neighborhoods more vulnerable to flooding. A Redfin study from 2021 illustrated that areas previously affected by redlining are now also prone to extreme flooding and sea-level rise, a problem compounded by poor infrastructure that fails to mitigate these risks.
Specifically, hurricanes can result in extensive infrastructure and property damage and cause uncontrolled toxic flooding from major pollution sources. These communities are likely to suffer more severe damage and have less capacity to recover from the impacts.
Even today, nearly two decades after Katrina, many in New Orleans are still grappling with the destruction of the levees and fighting for stronger flood protection. A single flood event can push a low-income family below the poverty line, making it nearly impossible to rebuild and recover.
This is why the next four years are so critical. The success of the IRA has shown us that we can make meaningful progress on climate change, but we cannot afford to slow down. We must continue to advocate for policies that are equitable, just, and grounded in the needs of the communities most impacted by climate change. The decisions we make now will determine whether we can prevent future superstorms like Katrina or if we will be doomed to repeat the past.
The challenges we face are immense, but they are not insurmountable. We have the tools, knowledge, and resources to build a more resilient and sustainable future. What we need now is the will and collective determination to see it through. This November’s election is not just about choosing leaders; it’s about choosing the future we want for our children and grandchildren.
As we approach this critical moment, we must remember that the power to move the needle on climate progress begins with collective action. Our communities, families, and future generations are worth the fight. Together, we can work toward a future where everyone has what they need to protect their homes, their loved ones, and their culture for years to come.
In the end, the question is not just about whether we are better prepared for the next storm. It’s about whether we have the courage to build a more resilient, equitable, and sustainable future for all. The time to act is now.
This article was originally published in Word In Black.
