Just to say that “I love South Louisiana” really doesn’t give credence to the fullness of my love for this sacred place. The people of the region are some of the most unique, hilarious, down to earth and warm people you will ever meet; the culture is full of fun, good food, sassiness, and history; and the landscape, well its as stunning and unique as the culture that lives in it. Gorgeous swamps, large live oak trees, and lush green & flowers adorn this subtropical place full of southern charm and mystique. The week of June 14th- 20th I was down photographing in New Orleans so I thought I’d drive even further south to Venice to see the damage from BP’s oil spill for myself.
It was an hour and half drive that felt like I was driving to the end of the world. Arriving in Venice was a bit odd because one would never know that the largest oil spill in history was STILL taking place in the region. There were a few cues that all wasn’t well because there were so many helicopters, of various sizes, flying overhead– yet I still couldn’t believe that one of the most horrific environmental tragedies of all time was happening in this small town! I was getting quite frustrated so I decided to pull over to get a cool drink, and this is when I hit the jackpot. It was here that I met the self-proclaimed, “King of Venice”. The King and I hit it off instantly, and he then began to give me the ins and outs of the oil spill’s effect on the town. This small town, who not until the 1920′s did they actually have roads, was being affected more deeply than it seemed. (Note: the townspeople got around before roads via perots, which are small boats traditionally used by Cajuns.) He said that it wasn’t only the fishermen who were loosing their livelihoods in the region, but many of the subcontractors of BP as well. On Day 63, he was nearly $100,000 in debt, due to BP’s lack of payment. He also told me that BP and the government had armed guards at the marinas so to block media and the public from seeing the oil covered boats that would come in from offshore. He said BP had managed to keep the oil from arriving on shore by putting large sandbags on on the barrier islands, which is good, but it’s also why there was no sign of oil and why there were so many helicopters everywhere. He could tell that I was disappointed by BP hiding their mess and not actually cleaning it up, so he told me that if I wanted to see the most devasting and yet hopeful aspect of the damage to go to Fort Jackson to see the sanctuary for oil drowning pelicans. He told me not to get my hopes up too high about getting in since it was a high security spot, but away I went anyway.
The Brown Pelican is the state bird of Louisiana. Though I was born & raised + went to college in Louisiana, I have never seen a pelican, not even when I did an airboat tour of the swamps before I headed out West. Needless to say, I had no idea of what I was about to experience at the sanctuary. When I arrived at the sanctuary I saw that there were lots of reporters at the entrance. It appeared that I had just “happened” to arrive at the sanctuary at the exact time that they were letting the media in. Lucky for me I had my camera with my big lens on, so I looked official and was almost able to pass as media. Before the tour started, one of the volunteers stopped me and asked me to get a media pass before entry. This of course made me a bit nervous since I was, in fact, not media. Lucky for me the guy in the office went to my college in Lafayette (though we didn’t know each other) and when he found out I was a native, he gave me a wink and then a media pass; I totally love the loyalty of Louisianaians to fellow natives.
For the next half hour I was taken on a guided tour along with the media, like ABC, BBC, and other publications from around the globe, as I heard stories of volunteers working diligently to clean the extremely large oil soaked birds and learned of the drama of bureaucracy and funding. The most telling aspect of the tour itself was found in the eyes of the pelicans who seemed so very sad and confused. Oh the irony in that the pelican is a symbol of Louisiana–beautiful, humble and exotic, and it was now in a life threatening situation because of exploitation by large corporations. (Don’t get me started on International politics in Louisiana!) Ok,…(breathe), I’ll now stop talking and let my photos tell you more about my experience. I believe that they’ll do a much better job than my words ever could.
Above: A sample of the vibrant green of South Louisiana’s Gulf Coast.
I guess BP didn’t get the polite suggestion of Plaquemine parish to keep it clean!
Large and small helicopters were flying all over Venice with long ropes carrying sandbags offshore.
In the words of Flight of the Conchords, “think about, think, think, think about it.”
“Safety first!?, oooh! the sign was ripped, I didn’t know,” says BP.
Their new habitat.
Volunteers from around the globe working long hours to save the birds.
The remedy: Dawn dish soap. 
I was amazed at how large the birds are!
For the birds who actually make it, they are put in a temporary holding pool outside of the compound until they can be shipped out to Texas.
Oil: Days of old?
Dats right!
Though I am not with the media, I did in fact get some press from my trip to South’s Louisiana’s southernmost coast. Denver’s CBS 4 did a live interview with me in early July about my experience and featured some of the images I captured on their 6 o’clock news report. Click on the image below to view the 2 minute interview.
Though I am very glad the oil spill has now been capped, South Louisiana’s environmental troubles are far from over. Of the pelicans who actually survive, there are an estimated 250 birds cleaned and released every 8 days, many now have their home in Texas. What does the say about Louisiana’s state bird? Hmmmm… And what does the future hold for Louisiana’s extremely fragile and damaged Gulf coast? Well that question is one that will take many, many years to find the answer to.
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All content © 2012 by Luce' Photog
So very proud of you Jenn!
Your words are powerful and from the heart but your photos drive home the reality of this horrible situation to anyone . Imagine if this was Denver . Oil draining down the Rockies , killing everything in it`s path rendering it unfit for living for generations .
Wow. Your pictures show just how much this has taken a toll on everyone, not just the surrounding community but especially the workers and the poor birds.
Thank you.
Jen, Very poetic how you capture in words and in photo the essence of what is going on over there. Very sad, indeed. Is there a way to donate directly to avoid the bureaucracy, as you put it, so no more birds die?
Good job,
Laura
That is an excellent question to raise– they only talked about the issue with bureacracy and to make calls to representatives. They didn’t have a solution– and I can’t believe I didn’t ask! I was so wrapped up n the birds.. Thank you for checking out my work– so good to see you with Cindy a couple of weeks ago.
oxox
It’s such a huge job that seemingly had no end. I wonder how the morale is now…
I can’t even begin to think of the full implications of this disaster!
These are important photos for so many reasons. They bring such a personal focus, and I can’t think of a more powerful way to raise public awareness of this tragedy. It might seem like a small thing but seeing these photos in order makes me feel that I am on this journey with Jenn; getting outraged by BP, being touched by the volunteers, feeling the spirit and passion of Louisiana Loyalty and Fortitude, and then finding the irony and biting humor that may reflect part of the strength that starts to heal this devastation. I don’t think these photos would have been as powerful if they were taken by anyone else. It had to be Jenn. It had to be someone with her skill and sensitivity, and it had to be someone who knows and loves this part of the world as much as she does. No one else could have done it like this. I believe she was led to this photo shoot by a higher power because no matter how many different photos I see of the oil spill, hers are the photos I remember. And the images we remember, though we are often haunted by them, are the ones that effect change. Thank you Jenn for doing your part as only you can do it. Blessings!
You know it’s interesting, as I reflect on my travels to Africa and my experience growing up in Louisiana, I realize that Louisiana has prepared me for Africa in many ways. The main is that both places have rich natural resources and corrupt governments that haven’t protected those resources or it’s people. Clearly Louisiana is a less extreme place than Africa, but there are many parallels. And like Africa, the people are so beautiful and alive! When I reflect on the serendipity that led me to enter Fort Jackson this past summer, I am so thankful and blessed. It saddens me to think that Louisiana may never recover from the oil spill, especially since only the surface has been cleaned of oil. (A chemical was put on the top of the water to make the oil heavy and sink to the bottom so it looks like it’s clean. This of course does nothing to remove the problem, though it appears that way. Things aren’t always as they seem..)
This month I will have a photojournalism website that features this project and my first trip to Gulu + my media appearances. The site will eventually include more images from my upcoming trip to Africa, and hopefully many more adventures around the world. Stay tuned…
Thank you again for taking the time to invest time in my work!
Absolutely Great! The contexts were very informational and educational. I’ve learned a lot of ideas through this stuff. Thank you!