In the aftermath of BP oil drilling disaster, it seemed that an overwhelming (albeit needed) amount of attention was given to restoring the environment, protecting animals, and the money – always the money. Very little attention was given to actually providing health care to people impacted by the oil disaster or the response to the disaster.
An uproar of local angry fishermen spoke out about sea turtle deaths yesterday at a public scoping meeting on Turtle Excluder Devices (TEDs) held by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS).
At the last minute I planned a friendly gathering in Gulfport, Mississippi for the July 4th weekend. Well, it ended up just being myself and my friend, fellow Mississippi Gulf Coast activist Laurel Lockamy. That was alright with us, because we accomplished what we set out to do: to inform, educate and possibly save a child or someone from getting sick from being in the waters of our Gulf.
The wind blows soothingly as I’m sitting on the edge of the pier. Clouds blemish the open sky, which is flourished with various shades of reds and oranges. The sun is slowly setting in the distance, casting dark shadows against the numerous boats anchored to the desolate docks.
Like Holt-Peterson Road near John Wathen's place outside Tuscaloosa, I have seen total destruction in nearby Alberta City and Crescent Ridge Road, in Birmingham's African-American community of Pratt City (approximately 7,000 homes), and elsewhere.
The question that folks who want to volunteer or send relief must begin to ask is not "how hard was xx hit?", but "where is there NOT a steady flow (or even an over-abundance) of relief?"
Just this past week I decided to leave my job as a food server at a casino in Hancock County, Mississippi. I’ve worked in tourism for 15 years. I just could not continue to serve Gulf seafood to unsuspecting tourists and locals after the BP disaster. There were other reasons for my leaving as well, but risking people’s health and pretending things are normal is totally against what I believe in.
Last Saturday in Lucedale, Mississippi, supporters and family of Billey Joe Johnson Jr. called for an end to the “Jim Crow ‘justice’” that left this young black man dead in the hands of the local police department.
When Coastal Women for Change first thought about doing a community garden, I was very skeptical. For one thing I have never grown anything before. For another, I have never grown anything before (lol). But once I thought about it in depth, I was on board with both feet in.
By Fritzi Presley I was born in Long Beach, Mississippi. Our home was at 124 East Beach...we lived on the water...no, literally...if we weren't fishin', we were crabbin'...if we weren't crabbin' we were sailin'...if we weren't sailin', we were swimmin'...well, you get the point...we even managed to squeeze school into our schedules...Catholic, of course.
By P Anne Battiste, crossposted from The Gazette (At South Mississippi). Mississippi’s Governor and 2012 GOP Presidential Candidate, Haley Barbour, finds himself once again in the hot bed of racial controversy. Politico’s Kaise Hunt 2/15/11 post at 6:43 PM EST (Updated: 2/15/11 10:29 PM EST) revealed, “In the latest racially charged incident in his home state, Haley Barbour on Tuesda
In the aftermath of BP oil drilling disaster, it seemed that an overwhelming (albeit needed) amount of attention was given to restoring the environment, protecting animals, and the money – always the money. Very little attention was given to actually providing health care to people impacted by the oil disaster or the response to the disaster.
An uproar of local angry fishermen spoke out about sea turtle deaths yesterday at a public scoping meeting on Turtle Excluder Devices (TEDs) held by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) and the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS). 
At the last minute I planned a friendly gathering in Gulfport, Mississippi for the July 4th weekend. Well, it ended up just being myself and my friend, fellow Mississippi Gulf Coast activist Laurel Lockamy. That was alright with us, because we accomplished what we set out to do: to inform, educate and possibly save a child or someone from getting sick from being in the waters of our Gulf. 
The wind blows soothingly as I’m sitting on the edge of the pier. Clouds blemish the open sky, which is flourished with various shades of reds and oranges. The sun is slowly setting in the distance, casting dark shadows against the numerous boats anchored to the desolate docks. 
Like Holt-Peterson Road near John Wathen's place outside Tuscaloosa, I have seen total destruction in nearby Alberta City and Crescent Ridge Road, in Birmingham's African-American community of Pratt City (approximately 7,000 homes), and elsewhere.
Just this past week I decided to leave my job as a food server at a casino in Hancock County, Mississippi. I’ve worked in tourism for 15 years. I just could not continue to serve Gulf seafood to unsuspecting tourists and locals after the BP disaster. There were other reasons for my leaving as well, but risking people’s health and pretending things are normal is totally against what I believe in. 
Last Saturday in Lucedale, Mississippi, supporters and family of Billey Joe Johnson Jr. called for an end to the “Jim Crow ‘justice’” that left this young black man dead in the hands of the local police department.
When 
By P Anne Battiste, crossposted from 
