Thanks to Fellow Rescuers - Pia Salk
A letter of thanks to my fellow rescuers….
It is March 31, 2006- 7 months and 2 days after hurricane Katrina hit. Just today I have spoken separately to 6 volunteers who I met down in Louisiana who have now come to be good friends. We chatted, exchanged emails about rescue workshops to attend and just shared that thing that we each need so to share right now- that which it seems no one other than those who witnessed the fallout from this awful tragedy can share. It’s hard to explain. One fellow rescuer stated that she had wished there had been some sort of exit process for volunteers to help them deal with the thoughts, feelings, images that they were now left with. I agreed and it has been something I have thought about many times- often thinking that, as a trained clinical psychologist who is supposed to know how to offer comfort in such a case, I should do something.
As I think of the clinical side of all this- that many among us are suffering from signs of Post Traumatic Stress symptoms. That many of us are likely to meet the criteria for diagnoses of Bereavement, Adjustment Disorder, or a situational Depression- I can’t help but hear- “blah blah blah”- I do not mean to make light or dismiss anything here- I am just potently aware that what I have studied in textbooks for years surrounds me and is real and felt and not a part of academia. It is part of life. It is part of myself and of the people I have come to know and love through this. And it is life itself. These symptoms, these feelings of despair- they are life itself. They are very real reactions to real events. And they need to be tended to as such. And while I absolutely encourage those among us whom are having prolonged difficulties functioning or feeling suicidal to seek professional help- to share these feelings with others- I also want to acknowledge that many of these feelings are to be expected. I, a psychologist myself, have cried many tears about this in my own therapists’ office and she has cried with me. Some might see this as strange or somehow unprofessional but I do not. I am quick to say that no one understands unless they were there. But there are many who do. What they share may not be an understanding of what we witnessed and the depth of the pain that has resulted from this- but they share an understanding of the injustice and a belief that these animals deserved so much more. They love their own animals and are thankful for what we did to help. While it is likely you will find more solace with those who also took direct action in this effort, try to remain open to the comfort offered by those offering it. And seek it out- personally, professionally- do not isolate your self from connection. Connection is what got us involved- whether it was connection to a friend who was going to the region, connection to your own animal- whatever it was, it was about connection and kinship. That is what motivated us to take action and it is that spirit that we must rekindle as we struggle now.
So, my friend’s words motivated me to write tonight. I feel a profound kinship with my fellow rescuers, one that has tears streaming down my face as I write to all of you- those who I have met and those who I have not. I feel a deep love and appreciation for each and every one of you. You, the person who took a stand for the animals- you, the person who took the time, made the sacrifice and by so doing defined who you are. Some of you helped from afar- reuniting animals, helping those on the ground navigate, sending out alerts and so much more. Others of you helped at Lamar Dixon, Winn Dixie, Tyler Town, Pasado, Waveland or the like- cleaning stalls, alerting vets to those who needed immediate care- sitting with and stroking a scared dog covered in mange with no concern for what you might catch. You were the eyes, ears and voice for the animals. Others of you were breaking down doors and fiercely searching for that stranded little creature who might now be too weak to call out. Others of you set traps and returned time and again to get every last puppy or the bonded mate of the creature you were sent to trap.
I have a quote on my ‘fridge that reads, “You are not truly alive until you have found something that you are willing to die for.” (Martin Luther King). Well, for so many of us this was that ‘something.’
You are my heroes- each and every one of you – and while I feel so alone in many ways- embedded in a world that does little to understand, help and honor our fellow creatures – a world that sees Katrina as the distant past- I also feel a kinship with all of you and I am so honored to have been a part of this effort with you.
We live in a constructed reality, where animals are considered below us in some silly hierarchical order and where deep feelings are often pathologized and dismissed. What we witnessed in the gulf coast was truly tragic. We arrived ready to help and get dirty but found little order or direction. This left us feeling even more helpless and confused. There was no formula, no real plan and what was most disturbing was that there was no real sense of urgency among those running the show. We looked for guidance but once we realized that we needed no ones permission to do what was right and urgently needed, we quickly mobilized and drew on both internal resources and each other to get to work.
Our adrenaline helped get us through. But now is a different story. There is no adrenaline driving us to get that injured kitten out from under a house, or that snarling pit out from the drainpipe of a canal. There are no ‘authorities’ we have to get past as we try to enter a restricted parish, or curfews we need to be concerned with as the day closes on a rescue we have been working on for hours. Now it is just each of us back home attending to our daily lives. And it is hard. I know for me the sadness and the rage is just below the surface and I carry it with me each day. I feel a sense of pride on some days and tremendous guilt that I did not do enough on others. It is an emotional roller coaster- but one on which I know I have many other co-travelers riding along in my roller car. I am plagued by images of certain animals that got away, that I left behind, that I pray were somehow saved. I will not recount any specifics here as we each have our own versions of this and need not add more to the mix.
But for all of this, regardless of how much time we spent there, or if we even got there at all because we were instead assisting from afar, it was hard and in some ways, it is now even harder to tolerate. We heard stories, we saw images, and we faced obstacles that we will never forget. For some this was more of the despair we have come to know regarding the worlds treatment of animals. For others this was new and an awakening of a sort. One woman recently said to me that she was never an ‘animal person’ but as she saw the heart wrenching images on TV, she had to go help- and that she has now found her calling. I am not surprised.
As we each try to reintegrate ourselves into our normal lives we face much despair. The despair comes in many forms- rage for what we saw, for how it was handled, for how it continues to be handled- rage at the people who left their animals or the people who forced them to do so- rage at the injustice of it all-that’s what gets me. And then we also feel deep sadness and compassion- compassion for the same people who had to leave their animals- imagining what it would be like- what we would do- and compassion for the animals who perished- the ones who suffered so- whose suffering we could see live or could only imagine given the signs left by their lifeless little bodies. Oh to turn back the clock is what we thought- How?! Why?! This cannot be! And the feelings are too much to bear.
There seems no consolation- nothing that we can convince ourselves of to make the pain go away. And I offer none here. In the years of academic training I have endured on this sort of matter, I can offer no remedy, no potion, no salve. It is something we must simply sit with and allow its due place in the space of our emotional lives. It is something that is now within us and has come to define each of us. And it will motivate us all the more then next time around. For many it is fueling efforts at reform, continued work at reunification, spurring ideas for new rescue groups that will help in the future. It is organic and real and living itself out in these ways. The only comfort I can attempt to offer or suggest comes in the form of kinship and in the form of action.
With regard to kinship, I’m thinking of that sort of Eastern Zen concept that as a Jew from NYC, I have little experience with, but I have come to discover that there is something to it. It is the feeling of kinship with others who share this plight. And kinship with the animals- the lovely creatures- some so fierce they evaded capture, others so weak they simply collapsed in our arms. And the ones with whom we share our homes and who live in our local communities-the ones who need us every day.
And as for action, my second suggestion for comfort -continue to take action in your daily lives. I know we are all tired and we must replenish ourselves and rest for sure. But action can play a role in this. The injustices we saw in the gulf coast and the actions we can take to oppose them are not limited to the fall of 2005 in that geographical region. They span the spectrum from rubbing the belly of the pound pup in our home, to writing letters on matters of injustice, to modeling a compassionate life style that others can draw inspiration from and replicate. For me personally I try to draw the connection for people between the social injustices enacted upon animals and those from which marginalized people have suffered. It is one and the same- all resulting from the misuse of power.
We were all a part of..well no.. we comprised, the largest animal rescue of all time and now it is us who need rescue. All that we knew before, the priorities of daily life evade our attention as we search for some comfort and a sense of where to file this massive experience. At times I get this strange sense that the animals who perished have our backs on this- that they are watching from afar and will assure that we will be all right. We must stay connected to them and to each other. And let this be the impetus to think outside of the box- to shake things up for the sake of the animals, for ourselves and for the future of social justice. As Margaret Mead once said, “Never doubt that a small group of concerned committed citizens can change the world.” We are those concerned ‘citizens’ and we must applaud ourselves and each other.
I applaud you. I give you a standing ovation. You are my kind of people. The people who know what is right and what is important- the people who take action- who are not afraid to get dirty- physically or emotionally. You feel deeply- it is what defines you. You are extraordinary and deserve the comfort that you so crave. Take a moment to close your eyes and ‘summon’ the animals who passed on- those who perished in Katrina or those who shared your life in other ways and have now passed on. Connect with them as a collective force of compassion and love that is accessible to you- that is part of you- sounds hokey but I find this helpful. Find ways to access comfort and share those ways with others.
I have great love and appreciation for each and every one of you and am proud to have you as kin.
Sincerely,
Pia
(Pia Salk is Co-founder of Animal Rescue New Orleans but began her work in the gulf coast as one of the many volunteers who just got on a plane and showed up despite rumors that she was not needed or that she might not be allowed admission to Lamar Dixon)
It is March 31, 2006- 7 months and 2 days after hurricane Katrina hit. Just today I have spoken separately to 6 volunteers who I met down in Louisiana who have now come to be good friends. We chatted, exchanged emails about rescue workshops to attend and just shared that thing that we each need so to share right now- that which it seems no one other than those who witnessed the fallout from this awful tragedy can share. It’s hard to explain. One fellow rescuer stated that she had wished there had been some sort of exit process for volunteers to help them deal with the thoughts, feelings, images that they were now left with. I agreed and it has been something I have thought about many times- often thinking that, as a trained clinical psychologist who is supposed to know how to offer comfort in such a case, I should do something.
As I think of the clinical side of all this- that many among us are suffering from signs of Post Traumatic Stress symptoms. That many of us are likely to meet the criteria for diagnoses of Bereavement, Adjustment Disorder, or a situational Depression- I can’t help but hear- “blah blah blah”- I do not mean to make light or dismiss anything here- I am just potently aware that what I have studied in textbooks for years surrounds me and is real and felt and not a part of academia. It is part of life. It is part of myself and of the people I have come to know and love through this. And it is life itself. These symptoms, these feelings of despair- they are life itself. They are very real reactions to real events. And they need to be tended to as such. And while I absolutely encourage those among us whom are having prolonged difficulties functioning or feeling suicidal to seek professional help- to share these feelings with others- I also want to acknowledge that many of these feelings are to be expected. I, a psychologist myself, have cried many tears about this in my own therapists’ office and she has cried with me. Some might see this as strange or somehow unprofessional but I do not. I am quick to say that no one understands unless they were there. But there are many who do. What they share may not be an understanding of what we witnessed and the depth of the pain that has resulted from this- but they share an understanding of the injustice and a belief that these animals deserved so much more. They love their own animals and are thankful for what we did to help. While it is likely you will find more solace with those who also took direct action in this effort, try to remain open to the comfort offered by those offering it. And seek it out- personally, professionally- do not isolate your self from connection. Connection is what got us involved- whether it was connection to a friend who was going to the region, connection to your own animal- whatever it was, it was about connection and kinship. That is what motivated us to take action and it is that spirit that we must rekindle as we struggle now.
So, my friend’s words motivated me to write tonight. I feel a profound kinship with my fellow rescuers, one that has tears streaming down my face as I write to all of you- those who I have met and those who I have not. I feel a deep love and appreciation for each and every one of you. You, the person who took a stand for the animals- you, the person who took the time, made the sacrifice and by so doing defined who you are. Some of you helped from afar- reuniting animals, helping those on the ground navigate, sending out alerts and so much more. Others of you helped at Lamar Dixon, Winn Dixie, Tyler Town, Pasado, Waveland or the like- cleaning stalls, alerting vets to those who needed immediate care- sitting with and stroking a scared dog covered in mange with no concern for what you might catch. You were the eyes, ears and voice for the animals. Others of you were breaking down doors and fiercely searching for that stranded little creature who might now be too weak to call out. Others of you set traps and returned time and again to get every last puppy or the bonded mate of the creature you were sent to trap.
I have a quote on my ‘fridge that reads, “You are not truly alive until you have found something that you are willing to die for.” (Martin Luther King). Well, for so many of us this was that ‘something.’
You are my heroes- each and every one of you – and while I feel so alone in many ways- embedded in a world that does little to understand, help and honor our fellow creatures – a world that sees Katrina as the distant past- I also feel a kinship with all of you and I am so honored to have been a part of this effort with you.
We live in a constructed reality, where animals are considered below us in some silly hierarchical order and where deep feelings are often pathologized and dismissed. What we witnessed in the gulf coast was truly tragic. We arrived ready to help and get dirty but found little order or direction. This left us feeling even more helpless and confused. There was no formula, no real plan and what was most disturbing was that there was no real sense of urgency among those running the show. We looked for guidance but once we realized that we needed no ones permission to do what was right and urgently needed, we quickly mobilized and drew on both internal resources and each other to get to work.
Our adrenaline helped get us through. But now is a different story. There is no adrenaline driving us to get that injured kitten out from under a house, or that snarling pit out from the drainpipe of a canal. There are no ‘authorities’ we have to get past as we try to enter a restricted parish, or curfews we need to be concerned with as the day closes on a rescue we have been working on for hours. Now it is just each of us back home attending to our daily lives. And it is hard. I know for me the sadness and the rage is just below the surface and I carry it with me each day. I feel a sense of pride on some days and tremendous guilt that I did not do enough on others. It is an emotional roller coaster- but one on which I know I have many other co-travelers riding along in my roller car. I am plagued by images of certain animals that got away, that I left behind, that I pray were somehow saved. I will not recount any specifics here as we each have our own versions of this and need not add more to the mix.
But for all of this, regardless of how much time we spent there, or if we even got there at all because we were instead assisting from afar, it was hard and in some ways, it is now even harder to tolerate. We heard stories, we saw images, and we faced obstacles that we will never forget. For some this was more of the despair we have come to know regarding the worlds treatment of animals. For others this was new and an awakening of a sort. One woman recently said to me that she was never an ‘animal person’ but as she saw the heart wrenching images on TV, she had to go help- and that she has now found her calling. I am not surprised.
As we each try to reintegrate ourselves into our normal lives we face much despair. The despair comes in many forms- rage for what we saw, for how it was handled, for how it continues to be handled- rage at the people who left their animals or the people who forced them to do so- rage at the injustice of it all-that’s what gets me. And then we also feel deep sadness and compassion- compassion for the same people who had to leave their animals- imagining what it would be like- what we would do- and compassion for the animals who perished- the ones who suffered so- whose suffering we could see live or could only imagine given the signs left by their lifeless little bodies. Oh to turn back the clock is what we thought- How?! Why?! This cannot be! And the feelings are too much to bear.
There seems no consolation- nothing that we can convince ourselves of to make the pain go away. And I offer none here. In the years of academic training I have endured on this sort of matter, I can offer no remedy, no potion, no salve. It is something we must simply sit with and allow its due place in the space of our emotional lives. It is something that is now within us and has come to define each of us. And it will motivate us all the more then next time around. For many it is fueling efforts at reform, continued work at reunification, spurring ideas for new rescue groups that will help in the future. It is organic and real and living itself out in these ways. The only comfort I can attempt to offer or suggest comes in the form of kinship and in the form of action.
With regard to kinship, I’m thinking of that sort of Eastern Zen concept that as a Jew from NYC, I have little experience with, but I have come to discover that there is something to it. It is the feeling of kinship with others who share this plight. And kinship with the animals- the lovely creatures- some so fierce they evaded capture, others so weak they simply collapsed in our arms. And the ones with whom we share our homes and who live in our local communities-the ones who need us every day.
And as for action, my second suggestion for comfort -continue to take action in your daily lives. I know we are all tired and we must replenish ourselves and rest for sure. But action can play a role in this. The injustices we saw in the gulf coast and the actions we can take to oppose them are not limited to the fall of 2005 in that geographical region. They span the spectrum from rubbing the belly of the pound pup in our home, to writing letters on matters of injustice, to modeling a compassionate life style that others can draw inspiration from and replicate. For me personally I try to draw the connection for people between the social injustices enacted upon animals and those from which marginalized people have suffered. It is one and the same- all resulting from the misuse of power.
We were all a part of..well no.. we comprised, the largest animal rescue of all time and now it is us who need rescue. All that we knew before, the priorities of daily life evade our attention as we search for some comfort and a sense of where to file this massive experience. At times I get this strange sense that the animals who perished have our backs on this- that they are watching from afar and will assure that we will be all right. We must stay connected to them and to each other. And let this be the impetus to think outside of the box- to shake things up for the sake of the animals, for ourselves and for the future of social justice. As Margaret Mead once said, “Never doubt that a small group of concerned committed citizens can change the world.” We are those concerned ‘citizens’ and we must applaud ourselves and each other.
I applaud you. I give you a standing ovation. You are my kind of people. The people who know what is right and what is important- the people who take action- who are not afraid to get dirty- physically or emotionally. You feel deeply- it is what defines you. You are extraordinary and deserve the comfort that you so crave. Take a moment to close your eyes and ‘summon’ the animals who passed on- those who perished in Katrina or those who shared your life in other ways and have now passed on. Connect with them as a collective force of compassion and love that is accessible to you- that is part of you- sounds hokey but I find this helpful. Find ways to access comfort and share those ways with others.
I have great love and appreciation for each and every one of you and am proud to have you as kin.
Sincerely,
Pia
(Pia Salk is Co-founder of Animal Rescue New Orleans but began her work in the gulf coast as one of the many volunteers who just got on a plane and showed up despite rumors that she was not needed or that she might not be allowed admission to Lamar Dixon)
posted by Rachel H. McKay | 6:40 AM
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