Arrival/Digs/Expectations

 I am currently sitting in what will be by accommodation for the next two months. I am staying in Dunn Hall; new modern apartment buildings adjacent to Southern University Law Centre. To give you a decent picture of what the campus is like...

(oops...bit shaky at the start. The Law Centre is just off to the right in the panoramic, to the left is the Mulatto Bend of the Mississippi River)

The Law Centre is part of the wider Southern University and A&M College; founded in 1880 in the wake of the American Civil War and out of consensus for a higher educational institution for 'persons of color'.

As a historically black college, there has been contemporary tension as to whether admissions to the Law Centre should be discriminate, so as to preserve its raison d'être.  It was pretty surreal to hear my colleagues on the Program discuss their recent or prospective choices in Law Schools across the US being affected by a University's status as a Historically Black College or University (HBCU) or a Predominantly White Institution (PWI). 

Some more information on the genesis of the CRRJ Program emerged today after meeting one of the attorneys (and previous legal fellow) working on the Program. It was established following (and using some funds derived from) the successful settlement of a 2010 federal lawsuit under legal counsel of the Program's Director, Margaret Burnham, which concerned alleged participation by Franklin County police  in the kidnapping, torture and murder of two 19 year olds by Klu Klux Klan members in the summer of 1964. You can read the details of what happened to them in the above link. This incident was tangled in with the killings of three civil rights activists in the same summer; which formed the basis of the popular Hollywood film Mississippi Burning...

So, understandably I am feeling a fairly substantial weight of expectation. 

In terms of the work I will be carrying out, for the duration of the Program I will be bound by attorney-client confidentiality (whilst not enjoying the status of an attorney, these cases can still lead to a civil suit) and as such I'm not sure as to what I can disclose as I go along. I'll get back to this inevitably.

What I can say is the nature of the work will lead me to what was described to me as 'the woods'; rural areas where people keep to themselves and are still very much gripped by the past. I asked if there was a chance that, as a white man, interviewees (mainly older ones) would not be particularly trustworthy or receptive in recounting their stories. 'It is possible'... which is why I would be paired with one of the other legal fellows, who from what I know so far are all of African American descent. The caution exercised by these people isn't unfounded. The Program's research is tactfully conducted with the concerns of individuals affected at its heart. Nevertheless I was advised to err on the side of caution as to telling people who I was/what I was doing here/where I was staying. People know people. Even today there is an estimated 5,000 Klan connected individuals out there, somewhere.

-------------------------

So, in terms of expectations v. reality. I had the expectation that the South in particular would not be a public transportation utopia, rendering a car the utmost necessity.

Yup. Where does it go? When does it arrive?

I also had the expectation of pastel coloured wooden houses, with a rocking chair on the porch.

Check.

From my previous experience working abroad, it would be cheaper for me to buy a wee cellphone with a month-only contract for unlimited texts and calls, which I would undoubtedly need. So began my Saturday journey on foot to my local Walmart to get one. To avoid running up a three figure bill in data roaming costs for Google maps, I decided to rely on the generous advice of locals, who every 20 minutes would tell me the Walmart is 20 minutes thataway.

No, I wasn't sending SnapChats, I saved that one for later, but you have the pleasure of seeing it now.

After an hour's journey  in the 27 degree heat, without ever seeing the glorious Walmart logo shimmering in the distance like a desert mirage, I gave up and called a taxi from a motel I passed. I was picked up by my hero of the weekend, Herbert:

Herbert didn't need a satnav, he had grown up in Baton Rouge. He spoke in a low mumble which made it hard for me, as someone who speaks in a low mumble, to understand. His told to me about the cultural diversity in the area; his grandfather was a Frenchman and his grandmother was a Cherokee Indian, so basically he was the embodiment of Creole Louisiana. His outlook on the area was certainly more positive than the Armenian born taxi driver that took me half asleep from the airport when I arrived; who opined 'people in this area don't care about you, they will kill you for two dollars, my son was shot when he was 26 years old'.

Herbert coincidentally picked me up when I called a taxi from the Walmart to go back to my hotel. He was kind enough to let me take a picture of him, then off he drove into the generic rush of inner city traffic.

Fast forward to today, where I have met my roommate and fellow legal fellow from Atlanta, who is (1) keen on sports (2) a jazz trumpeter who has been down Bourbon street before (3) is 21 in eight days, and wants to go back to Bourbon street (4) has a car with him (and I'm informed fuel expenses are reimbursed). Glorious. Our relationship was christened by portion of chicken wings at a local sports bar to the background of the pains and joys of a packed bar of Americans watching the USA/Portugal game, who I am told have a new-found national love for soccer.

Orientation in six hours, sleep time.