Law and Policy

By Laura Parker, AOLnews.com.

(Oct. 25) -- "With Katrina, we knew what we had to do," Marla Cooper, of Venice, La., says a few minutes into "Crude Justice," a new 17-minute film about the BP oil spill. "We rebuilt. But for this, how do we rebuild?"

As the six-month anniversary of the worst American maritime oil disaster approaches, people along the Gulf coast continue to struggle with its aftermath. Many feel uncertain about their future and abandoned by the media and politicians focused on their election campaigns this fall.

Okay, ladies and gents, for 6 months now I have seen you. Toiling away, sharing information, doing what you can to make an impact of some kind over this horrific event. 

I see your heart. I have felt your spirit. And I say the time is now, to make a statement across the Gulf.

Today the Obama Administration released a plan for the long-term recovery of the Gulf Coast in the wake of the BP oil disaster. 

“America’s Gulf Coast: A Long Term Recovery Plan After The Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill,” was developed under the guidance of Secretary of the Navy Ray Mabus, who visited the Gulf for a series of listening tours over the summer. 

Crossposted from The Louisiana Justice Institute's blog.  Image from the Times-Picayune.

Most of you know my story by now. Four years ago, back when the banks were getting bailed out and the people were getting bailed on, I lost the first house I ever owned. After moving to South Louisiana and rebuilding our lives, my husband and I were able to move ourselves and our 6 children into a beautiful new home. Three days later the moratorium hit - and I say hit, because it was like a punch in the stomach to the people of our area. 

Crossposted from GreenForAll.org

Thank you for letting me understand
homelessness, living without power,
without television, without cool air in the heat.
Thank you for letting me understand
hunger, the pleasure of dry clean clothes and
the relief of place to sleep.
 
Thank you for letting me understand
the deep and overwhelming sadness
when forces, beyond our personal control,
take the loved, the familiar, the usual.