By Jennifer Hahn

My original idea for this story was to report on how churches in New Orleans were explaining the devastation of Hurricane Katrina in terms of God's will – a sort of on-the-ground investigation of the “problem of evil,” if you will. But after a few weeks of trying to get in touch with many church leaders with very little success, I had to scrap this idea at the last second and come up with something – fast.

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I remembered reading that mental health problems had increased dramatically in New Orleans in the aftermath of “the storm,” as Katrina is known there. In class, we had read Times-Picayune reporter Chris Rose's collection of post-Katrina articles, 1 Dead in the Attic, in which he chronicles his own mental unraveling and substance abuse problems against of the backdrop of the hurricane's aftermath. I started to wonder whether there were any studies out there showing that Katrina had led to an overall increase in drug or alcohol abuse. So I Googled something like “Katrina and New Orleans and Addiction” and found a University of Michigan study showing an increase in alcoholism, particularly among those who had experienced trauma as a result of the storm. A few other studies confirmed these findings for other commonly abused substances as well.

I also knew I wanted to incorporate a religion angle into the story. We'd recently done some reading about faith-based initiatives, and I started to wonder whether the government was funding any addiction treatment programs in New Orleans through faith-based organizations. I did some more fishing online and learned about a program called Access to Recovery (ATR) that President Bush had put into place in 2003. Louisiana happened to be one of the 14 states and one tribal organization to initially receive grants from the administration through its Faith-Based and Community Initiatives.

Based on a voucher system, ATR allows individuals to seek addiction treatment with government funds at an approved facility of their choosing, whether faith-based or secular.  After a little more sleuthing, I found a power-point presentation that the Louisiana Office of Addictive Disorders had put together to explain their ATR program. I got in touch with them, and they gave me the contact information for a number of faith-based facilities in New Orleans that accepted ATR vouchers.

I went into this story with a lot of pre-conceived notions about whether the government should provide funding to faith-based organizations. Visiting some of these programs and speaking with addicts and pastors face-to-face about the powerful role that faith can play in recovery allowed me to see things in a different light. I'm still not sure where I stand on the issue of government funding, but I have a much richer understanding of what faith-based programs can contribute and I hope that my article can provide this to my readers as well. 

Oh, and in the end, I managed to get some of my theodicy questions answered by the religious leaders running these programs. After all, you can't really talk about drug addiction and faith-based treatment without somehow addressing the problem of suffering. I got some very interesting responses, which I hope to elaborate in another story.

By Tara Graham

When I decided to report on voodoo, someone else in the class mentioned that she was also considering the idea, but didn't want to risk getting herself hexed in the process. This struck me as odd.

If voodoo is the hogwash most people make it out to be, then why the fear?

Could these Louisiana voodooists know something we don't? Could their religion be as legitimate (and as potent) as any other? Could the face of voodoo—the dolls, the needles, the snakes, the potions—be a hyped-up distortion of something a little more sacred?

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I hit the pavement in New Orleans to uncover the real religiosity, if any, behind the practice of voodoo in Louisiana. Patrick Polk, an expert on folk religion at UCLA, argued that New Orleans voodoo is all for tourist consumption. Journalist Jason Berry warned that the locals, even if they practiced voodoo, probably wouldn't own up to it.

While I was out and about on the evening we arrived in town, however, I asked the first person I saw—the doorman at Vaughan's Nightclub —if he knew anything about voodoo.

“Yeah–my old lady,” he said. “She does the voodoo, but not me. I'm a Christian.”

He mentioned that his girlfriend participates in an annual neighborhood ceremony to cleanse the street of bad spirits.

From that point forward, I decided to ask every New Orleans native I encountered on the trip about local or family traditions they participate in or that they remember observing while they were growing up. Most folks had a story or two to share. 

The executive director of the New Orleans Chamber of Commerce mentioned that when a cold or flu bug hit the family, his grandparents would keep a concoction of herbs and onion in a Mason jar behind the front door. The general manager at the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum recalled watching folks sweep their front porches with red brick dust every morning to dispatch any ill will, or gris-gris, that may have settled in overnight.  

As I spoke with more and more locals, I realized that New Orleans voodoo does indeed exist—but not on Bourbon St. It's a little more homegrown and a little more nuanced than the souvenir hawkers, cemetery tour guides, and local voodoo queens let on.

This is why, I reason, folks fear voodoo in the first place. We are frightened of the unknown, and New Orleans voodoo is very much an insiders' religion.  Buying a voodoo doll and a how-to hex booklet at the local gift shop simply won't cut it. Trust me, I tried. Instead, one has to be born into the tradition and grow up inside it to truly understand the role of voodoo in the everyday lives of Louisianians.

That was the story to tell.

By B. Adriana Venegas-Chavez

Before leaving for New Orleans, I wanted to write about the art created post-Katrina. I discovered two exhibitions at the New Orleans Museum of Art that focused on life in the city after the storm. I thought it would be interesting to delve into what people were creating in a city that was still recovering from a disaster. One of the exhibitions titled “Rethink, Renew, Revive” was created with three photographs from the immediate aftermath of Katrina and three photographs of New Orleans today. The other exhibition, “Coping with Katrina,” utilized art created by children who participated in the Hyogo-NOMA Art Therapy Initiative.


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After I arrived in New Orleans and checked out both exhibitions, I thought they were extremely interesting, but when I talked to Holly Wherry, the art therapist in charge of the Hyogo-NOMA program, I realized that the exhibition she put together with the kids was almost like a cry for help. Although the kids in the program have shown improvement in their behavior and communication skills, Wherry is one of only nine art therapists in Louisiana, and the only art therapist working with kids in public schools in New Orleans.

I decided to focus on telling the story of this exhibition. I interviewed Wherry extensively and also talked to her intern, Alethia Picciola, who works closely with all the kids as well. I also interviewed Jim Mulvihill, NOMA's director of communications, to get a sense of how the exhibition came about and what the public reaction was when it opened. Because of privacy agreements, I was unable to speak to the kids, but I was able to get their stories through Wherry and their art. Once I got back to California I was able to contact two pediatric professors from LSU who were working closely with Wherry, but they were unable to get back to me before our first deadline. And I did some research on art therapy and how it has helped kids who have survived other disasters such as 9/11 and the Asian Tsunami.

By Jonathan Partridge

When I headed off to New Orleans, my idea for an article seemed simple enough. I wanted to write about the changing face of homelessness in the city and learn what faith-based groups were doing to solve the problem. I quickly learned, however, that there is nothing simple about homelessness.

More than 60 homeless-related agencies work with Unity of Greater New Orleans, a local agency that uses federal money to support the city's homeless. So, which groups should I profile and what should be the story's focus? In the end, most of my interviews were with representatives and clients of two local shelters: New Orleans Mission and the Ozanam Inn. I also profiled a nonprofit citizens' group called the Desmond Project and spoke with a representative of Unity.

Interviewing some of my sources for this article was challenging because of the sensitive nature of the subject matter. It felt awkward to put homeless residents on the spot. I sometimes thought to myself, How would I feel if I were down on my luck and someone wanted to make me the face of New Orleans' homeless population?

Surely, it was important to tell their stories, but I didn't want to exploit them. Moral quandaries abounded. I decided to focus my photographic work on people who were in recovery or who were volunteers. Any homeless people whom I did not get permission to photograph could only be in the background of photos.

Some interviewees were eager to share stories of their recovery or the difficulties of life on the streets. Other folks were cynical. One man I talked to said I would not be able to get the story I wanted while I was wearing the button-down blue shirt that I had donned. If I wanted to really understand the homeless population, I would need to spend 21 days on the streets dressed like the homeless, he said.

In the end, I found that there was no easy way to resolve homelessness or to write about it. I'm left with many questions, but with a passion to learn more.

Politics, science, sex and Hollywood were the topoi I used for teaching religion reporting, until this fall. Inspired by the Obama campaign and challenged by colleagues who called for mainstreaming race and ethnicity in the curriculum, I revamped my course.

The result–“Covering Race, Religion and Culture”–was a bid to capitalize on the presidential election and to attract students who might not otherwise care about issues of faith and values. To further sweeten the pot, I decided to organize a class field trip over a long weekend. Where to? That was obvious. What better place than New Orleans to report on the intricacies and entanglements of religion, race and culture in the U.S.

Eight graduate students, half of whom had left fulltime journalism jobs to enroll in Annenberg's new specialized journalism master's degree program, went with me to New Orleans in late October. They'd spent several weeks researching their stories and setting up interviews, but most were unfamiliar with the city. Our local guide gave us a crash course on post-Katrina politics along with a van tour of the city. We met with demographers, religious leaders, reporters, community activists, and cultural archivists. We spent time in Ronald Lewis' House of Dance and Feathers, Vaughn's Lounge and the Voodoo Museum. Students dropped in and out of activities to pursue their stories. Their results range from an update on the post-Katrina music scene to the problems of homelessness.

As the stories are published and posted, we'll link to them. For now, you can read student blogs describing how they got the stories, and view their photography and videography. They've spent the past few months telling readers how to write stories; here's your chance to tell them how they did.

Diane Winston

If you wondered why evangelicals were unfazed by news of Bristol Palin's pregnancy, “Red Sex, Blue Sex” in this week's New Yorker will be a revelatory read.

“During the campaign,” writes Margaret Talbot, “the media has largely respected calls to treat Bristol Palin's pregnancy as a private matter. But the reactions to it have exposed a cultural rift that mirrors America's dominant political divide. Social liberals in the country's 'blue states' tend to support sex education and are not particularly troubled by the idea that many teen-agers have sex before marriage, but would regard a teen-age daughter's pregnancy as devastating news. And the social conservatives in 'red states' generally advocate abstinence-only education and denounce sex before marriage, but are relatively unruffled if a teen-ager becomes pregnant, as long as she doesn't choose to have an abortion.”

Talbot's informative piece bypasses the done-to-death abstinence-pledge stories to focus on recent research about linkages between religion and teenage sexuality.

Highlighting findings by sociologist Mark Regnerus, Talbot reports that “religion is a good indicator of attitudes toward sex but a poor one of sexual behavior, especially among teen-age evangelicals.” Specifically, 74 percent of white evangelical teens don't believe in sex before marriage, but this same group is more sexually active, and at a younger age, than Mormons, mainline Protestants and Jews. They're also less likely to use contraceptives.

Regnerus identifies a new “middle-class morality” among well-off teens who, surprisingly, are not from socially conservative homes. Members of this smart, successful and ambitious cohort would rather be safe than sorry; for them, unprotected sex is “a moral issue like smoking or driving a car without a seat belt.”

Talbot's article raises a host of issues and ideas ripe for reporting: how religion affects attitudes about sexuality, what types of religion influences sexual behavior, and how sex functions in an ecology of aspirations (for teens without prospects, marriage looms larger than for those who expect a fulfilling and remunerative career).

Bristol Palin may be a distant memory after next week, but the meaning and repercussions of teen-age pregnancy—and the role of religion in sex, marriage and childbearing—will be an important story for years to come

Diane Winston

J517: Reporting on Religion
Final Investigative Story
by B. Adriana Venegas-Chavez

Art Therapy Post Katrina

    NEW ORLEANS— As the third anniversary of hurricane Katrina passed by, people in New Orleans continue to help rebuild homes, schools, churches, and entire communities, and others are working to help children regain mental stability.   

    Art therapist Holly Wherry, along with the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA) and the Prefecture Hyogo, Japan, is working to establish the Hyogo-NOMA Art therapy Initiative in public schools. This program will help children in New Orleans learn how to express their feelings and cope with trauma through art. However, the program, although successful with the children, is already facing challenges. Wherry is one of only nine certified art therapists in Louisiana and the only one working with kids in public schools in New Orleans.

Wherry explains that “Mental health issues are only now surfacing in many children.  And these issues will take a long time to resolve.  It is so important to consider the large impact Katrina has had on the community and how children are still adjusting and re-adjusting.”

In the aftermath of Katrina, families and their children spent the majority of the time focusing on coming back to their city and finding or rebuilding a home. They were concerned with finding their lost relatives and finding jobs. No one had the time or the energy to deal with the internal damage or become each other's support systems. It was as if everyone stored away their trauma to help their families survive physically.

More concerning is that children who were in their first years of elementary have only recently come to understand the extent of the damage Katrina had on their city, “A lot of the schools have identified their 5th grade group as having more problems. That means that they were in 2nd grade when it happened and now they have more understanding,” Wherry said.

The first time Wherry worked with a group of kids this semester, she was astonished at the emotion, “I had 10 kids in the group and when I told them that this was a safe place where they could express their feelings, all of them started crying. All 10 of them,” she said. “It was the first time I had seen this but they all just needed to cry.”

Art therapy, says Wherry, gives children a safe place where they can learn to express their trauma in different ways. It gives kids an avenue to express themselves freely without the restraints of their underdeveloped vocabulary. According to the American Art Therapy Association, “Art is a natural form of communication for children because it is easier for them to express themselves visually rather than verbally. This is particularly true for children who have experienced a traumatic event such as Hurricane Katrina.”

And more so for children in New Orleans who experience all types of art as a part of growing-up. Alithea Piccola, an intern working closely with Wherry said, “New Orleans is an artistic city. Art is something that is part of their daily life. It's their culture. Especially music, many kids can express themselves better with music because they grew up with parades and second lines. We try to incorporate a lot of this.”

Another hurdle to overcome is the academic intensity. Children missed two years of regular schooling and the priority of the state is to get them at grade level. Some schools have extended their days to more than eight hours without recess. “Schools are so academically rigorous kids are forced to behave and be quiet during school hours that they forget how to talk to each other,” Wherry said. “Kids will walk around the table to get markers or other materials instead of asking someone to pass them. They just don't know how to talk to each other. They have to relearn this.

Thus far, the semester-long program has been completed in two schools, John Dibert Elementary and Edward Hynes Charter School and it is now in Benjamin Banneker Elementary. The first two schools have seen a decrease in violence and an increase in communication. “There's a difference between the schools that have art therapy. In the two schools where we have completed the program the principals report less aggressive behavior in general. They wrote letters to help keep the program, but unfortunately I'm the only art therapist working with public schools in New Orleans,” Wherry said.
The completion of the program in these two schools gave way for an art exhibition that was put on display in NOMA. Children who participated were asked for permission to display their art and write a caption that explained what they drew.

An eight-year-old who drew a picture of a red swirl with angry eyes as Katrina and a house and animals on fire after being struck by lightning said, “I hate Katrina so bad, I just wanted to draw this picture, so I could get my anger out on her.” She also drew herself fighting Katrina with water guns.

    Another participate drew a face split in half. One side had tears and a frown and the other a smile. The 6th grader wrote, “this is how I feel sometimes: I feel mixed.”

    One of the priorities of the program is also to help kids remember what they love about New Orleans. When most of them returned they hated their situation. Wherry recalls them complaining about their messy homes and dangerous neighborhoods. In art therapy, “We incorporate art materials that remind them of their city, like Mardi Grass beads and balloons and we read books about New Orleans to remind them of these things that they do love about this city,” she said.

    The exhibition at NOMA brought many families and communities together. Most importantly, it allowed parents to see what their children had been feeling all along. It opened an opportunity for communication because many are still hesitant to talk about Katrina and the ramifications that came along. James Mulvihill, director of communications and marketing said the “exhibitions offered some visions of hope and progress,” he said. “Many of the Katrina-themed art exhibitions out there have focused on devastation, and while these certainly offer raw looks at the physical and mental toll wrought by the flood, they also reveal a deep love for the city and an attempt to move on and grow.”

    The Hyogo-NOMA initiative is helping the children in New Orleans heal properly and allowing them to move on. The art exhibitions are to show the rest of the country that this has not happened yet and New Orleans still needs help.

by Jonathan Partridge

Many pundits talk about Arab Americans as if their patriotism should automatically be questioned. That's particularly the case for those who criticize U.S. policies.

But a glimpse at some of the issues that Arab Americans feel are important in the upcoming presidential election largely reflect those of the general population.

A poll of the nation's Arab American population released last month shows that the economy was the top issue of concern among those surveyed. Does that issue sound familiar?

How about the war in Iraq? Health care reform?

All these concerns are shared by Arab Americans and Americans as a whole.

The main distinctions between the views of Arab Americans and the general populous tend to consist of concerns about civil liberties issues, Middle East peace and a desire for a self-sustaining Palestinian state.

That's not to say that all Arabs think alike. For instance, Lebanese Christians often have concerns about political strife in their native country. And some Arab Christians from Egypt and Lebanon have expressed concern about Sen. Barack Obama's family background, largely because of religious persecution they received in their native lands.

Political experts may want to pay heed to such nuances, as the Arab American community grows and becomes more politically involved. After all, Arab Americans have one of the highest voter registration rates in the country, Arab American Institute public affairs manager Nadine Wahab reportedly told Voice of America last month.

Some say the diversity among Arabs will prevent them from organizing on a national level and that powerful Jewish and evangelical Christian lobbies will prevent them from having any clout. A recent feature on the American Public Media radio program Marketplace touched on some of these challenges.

Still, it will be intriguing to see if Arab Americans can promote more widespread interest in issues such as Palestinian statehood and civil liberties. Both Obama and Sen. John McCain have sought the Arab American vote in Michigan this year, according to The Detroit Free Press. And Salon has written about how McCain's difficulties with Arab American voters could cost him in certain swing states. Both of these accounts only touch on the diversity among Arab American perspectives.

Could Arab Americans become a reckonable political force in the coming years? It is certainly possible. Those who pay attention to politics would be wise to keep an eye on this potential trend.

Jonathan Partridge, former managing editor of The Patterson Irrigator in Patterson, Calif., is a graduate student in the specialized journalism program at the University of Southern California.