WGBH News: Around the Nation

Feeling Like A Tourist: Being Black In New England

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 04:01:00 GMT

I am a New Englander, born and bred, with the accent to prove it. Originally from Massachusetts, I now live in northern New Hampshire, in an area popular with vacationers. However, as a black woman in an overwhelmingly white state, there are times when I feel like a tourist.

Many residents here have never known a person of color. Some want to; others do not. Problem is, when I leave my own small town, it's impossible to know which type I will encounter.

For example, I am an avid reader who supports independent bookstores when traveling. Bookshop employees are characteristically welcoming. Maybe voracious reading and open-mindedness go hand in hand.

But if I grab coffee and a snack nearby, I have often found myself ignored, or worse. Once, in a donut shop, a man flicked a lit cigarette at me, when I was visibly pregnant and alone. Another customer witnessed it and froze. Full of righteous indignation, I jumped in my pickup and searched for a police officer, but couldn't find one.

Since then, I've used drive-through windows when I travel. I've trained myself to be cautious and calculating.

I think racism is like a chronic condition that can be treated, but not cured. It flares up unexpectedly. After a while, though, it manages you — which is why it's so damaging.

Sometimes I think if I lived down South, life might be easier. I've visited places there where racial lines are delineated — where blacks live in certain parts of town, and whites in others.

I know many people find this kind of modern segregation very troubling. But I can see how it might appeal to a black person. I could do all the things I do now — cart the kids around, go to a show, shop, and entertain — with one difference: There would be so many brown faces that mine would blend in.

But in order to do that, I would have to leave all that is familiar, relinquish all that makes me who I am. All that would remain would be my accent.

I am not trying to be a Rosa, a Martin, or a Barack. I am just trying to raise a family, pursue a little happiness, and live peacefully with my neighbors. And until we all have that, none of us can say that we are truly free.

Commentator Debra Nunnally Beaupre writes the TeacherMother blog. [Copyright 2011 National Public Radio]

For Joplin's Children, Tornado's Effects Persist

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 04:01:00 GMT

The tornado that hit Joplin, Mo., in May destroyed a third of the town and killed 162 people. While the storm lasted just minutes, the psychological damage continues, and the community is mobilizing to cope with continuing trauma. The city's children are dealing with both the unsettling effects of the tornado and what the loss, disruption and heartache is doing to their parents.

Just months ago, 3-year-old Allie Stout was cowering in a hallway beneath her parents — and a violently flapping mattress — as the monster tornado ripped her house apart. In seconds, Allie's world flipped upside down: room gone, toys gone, parents hurt, dog missing. Weeks ago, she was still "playing tornado" all the time.

"We spin around in circles," she says, "and we get in a house, and we lie down, and it's blasting off, and we have to lie on the ground."

Allie's mother, Tiffany Stout, says her daughter slips into this grim play in groups and alone, here in the family's freshly furnished, but sparsely decorated, new house.

"It's nothing for us to go back into her room and hear her telling her 'babies' that it's time to take cover," Stout says, "and they have to lay down on the floor and put their hands over their heads and hold on tight, pray — pray for God's protection and pray that they make it through the storm."

It's not easy, Stout says, seeing your daughter relive the worst moments of her life, over and over and over again. But apparently, it's normal.

"As adults we often talk things through. A child, particularly younger children, will play things through," says Charles Graves, a psychiatrist who's treating kids in Joplin.

"Mostly, you see signs and symptoms of fear," he says. "So they may be agitated, angry."

Most children shake it off in a few weeks; others struggle with mental illness. Either way, Graves says, early trauma undermines a child's ability to cope with stress later.

"The more bad things that have happened to you, the worse off you are," he says. "The pump has been primed."

That goes for adults, too. Some here have lost almost everything — homes, jobs, loved ones. Most are holding up OK, but not all. And when they don't, children can get hurt.

In Joplin, there's been an increase in drug and alcohol abuse. There's also been an increase in serious gambling issues — like taking your insurance check and losing it in one night at a casino, something which has happened multiple times.

As a result, even some children who have managed to cope well with the tornado are being traumatized by adults who have not.

"There's been a fairly significant increase in sexual trauma to children," says Vicky Mieseler, vice president for clinical services at the Ozark Center, which offers mental health services for children and adults.

Mieseler figures that maybe 700-800 children here will need therapy. And she's building just the place for it.

On a ridge overlooking miles of splintered trees and the beaten shell of a hospital, workers are turning a tornado-hammered building into a children's trauma center.

"This is a healing place," Mieseler says, "a place where you come to feel better."

But that healing can be slow to come.

Fifty-four years ago, when Carolyn Brewer was 7, an F-5 tornado obliterated her neighborhood in Ruskin Heights, Mo.

"It only takes 30 seconds to destroy your life and your home and your community and the outlines of everything that you know, but it stays with you forever," she says.

Ruskin Heights shows virtually no sign of the catastrophe today. But the memories are still raw, Brewer says. She interviewed dozens of her childhood neighbors for a book called Caught Ever After.

"Many of them are still afraid," she says. "In fact, a woman sent me an email a couple of weeks ago that said, 'I still have nightmares that the tornado is chasing me, and it has eyes, and it's looking for me specifically.'"

That's after more than half a century. Back in Joplin, not four months have passed since the tornado. Allie's turned 4, and Tiffany Stout says both her children are getting better, although it doesn't take much to set them off.

"It can be anything — from being outside and the wind blowing hard, or the sky getting dark," she says. "Instantly they ask if the tornado is coming back and if our house is going to get blown away again, if we're going to get hurt."

Stout says that while her family will never be the same, their post-tornado life is better in many ways, with more gratitude, more time for each other.

Even the lucky ones are continuing to grapple with psychological fallout that often remains long after the twister moves on. [Copyright 2011 National Public Radio]

Post-Irene Cleanup May Damage Environment

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 19:26:00 GMT

Scientists are beginning to get a picture of the environmental impact of Tropical Storm Irene, which ripped through some of the East Coast's most pristine rivers, triggering hundreds of oil, chemical and sewage spills.

Now, some environmental groups worry that the cleanup could cause even more harm.

When Irene blasted through the Adirondack Mountains late last month, brooks and streams that are usually docile this time of year jumped their banks.

"The whole forest is falling down. Wow!" a man yelled in a video posted on YouTube.

The video shows Johns Brook in New York carving a new channel through the forest, as trees and rocks go tumbling.

The storm triggered vast landslides that reshaped some of the wildest mountain landscapes in the East, washing away ponds and shifting rivers into new channels.

Joe Martens, head of New York state's Department of Environmental Conservation, said no one's sure yet what all that chaos did to wildlife — including rare strains of brook trout.

"The streams and rivers around the flood-impacted areas have taken a terrific beating," Martens said. "The impacts of the storm were devastating in places."

Swollen rivers also flushed loose a huge amount of human gunk. In Keene, N.Y., Fiona Burns stood right here on the porch of her shop on main street, watching as the Ausable River scooped up septic tanks and other debris.

"This was all a river," Burns said. "Refrigerators floating down, bikes, propane tanks exploded — it was kind of surreal."

Weeks after the storm, riverbanks here are still cluttered with trash, and Martens said cleanup crews are trying to contain loose materials.

"We've responded to a record number of oil spills, well over 1,100. There were places where automobiles went downstream," he said. "Buses, equipment, machinery. We're still out there in places like Binghamton, where tanks that were lodged loose and had to be recovered from streams."

Martens said his scientists are still in crisis mode and haven't begun to sort out what the cumulative impacts of all those spills will be.

In the weeks following the storm, it's also common to see bulldozers and backhoes digging in the middle of these once-pristine rivers.

They're allowed here because Gov. Andrew Cuomo temporarily suspended many of New York's environmental rules, shelving state laws protecting wetlands and scenic rivers.

That move drew praise from local leaders and residents, who said cleanup work has to be done fast, before winter weather sets in.

But some environmental activists and scientists say construction crews like one working on the bank of Styles Brook — just outside of Keene — are working too fast, not taking necessary precautions.

Carol Treadwell is researcher who studies the geology of rivers in the Adirondacks and is head of the Ausable River Association.

"I can understand needing to do triage and put the roads back quickly so we can bring commerce back in. But I think we've gone a little further than that, and it's turned into the Wild, Wild West."

She said contractors are dredging too many streams, transforming wild pools and rapids that are crucial trout habitat into what she describes as "drainage ditches."

"It's very shallow, it has steep sides with a flat bottom and very little habitat for trout," she said.

State officials said they are monitoring projects like the one on Styles Brook, and they don't think cleanup work is doing permanent harm.

"We've come up with some very creative governmental initiatives," Cuomo said. "We want to waive certain [environmental] regulations and permits, which normally eat up some time."

Environmental rules in areas affected by Irene and by Tropical Storm Lee don't go back into effect until the end of this month. [Copyright 2011 North Country Public Radio]

Perry Asked To Halt Texas Man's Execution

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 19:00:00 GMT

Treasurer Allegedly Embezzled From Calif. Democrats

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 19:00:00 GMT

The Highlights From The Toronto Film Festival

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 19:00:00 GMT

Beauty Shop: Miss Universe, Latino Heritage, S.C. Gov.

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 16:00:00 GMT

Herman Cain Talks Jobs, 'Atrocious' Poverty Rate

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 16:00:00 GMT

Former Biden Advisor Critical Of Cain's Jobs Plan

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 16:00:00 GMT

'Civil, Sober' Super Committee Gets To Work

Wed, 14 Sep 2011 16:00:00 GMT