Katrina: let outrage lead to commitment.

Like many Americans, I remain outraged by the lack of urgency and compassion that characterized the initial response to the devastation of Hurricane Katrina and heartbroken over the avoidable suffering that horrified all of us as it unfolded along the Gulf Coast. In a previous life, I was both a Green Beret and a federal agent. I know what government can't do and I know what it can do, and I can tell you without reservation that our government's performance in the all-important initial stages of the crisis was utterly inadequate. This tragedy exposed to the entire world the depths of the poverty, inequality, and, yes, racism that continue to govern the lives of the majority of African Americans in this country. I say racism because the disregard for the welfare of the victims had everything to do with who they were--poor, black, and voiceless.

I have to be honest: My confidence in our nation was shaken by what I saw in the weeks after Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. But not in its people. Good Americans of all races and backgrounds are pulling together, showing a selfless courage and a willingness to do the right thing, which is inspiring and gives me hope. Where I have lost confidence is in our government's willingness to purge itself of the racist indifference that has marked every stage of this tragedy.

When you look at the extreme poverty that existed in the Gulf Region--and consider that living conditions for many African Americans haven't significantly changed since the end of the Civil War--then it's clear that contempt for these particular victims was stares quo long before Hurricane Katrina ever appeared on a weather chart. And we know this isn't just a New Orleans problem. We'd be seeing the same images of African Americans suffering if a comparable tragedy happened in St. Louis or Detroit or Newark, New Jersey, or Gainesville, Florida. Behind the national employment statistics and "happy-face" reports of a recovering economy are millions of families struggling to survive--disproportionately black and underemployed, undereducated, and underserved.

At times like this, some of us want to cry conspiracy. At this stage, I believe a conspiracy would be a step up from what's really going on. You'd have to think about impoverished black people to conspire against them. The racism that condemned thousands of people along the Gulf Coast to their deaths, and countless others to homelessness and ruin, is so deeply ingrained in the institutions that govern us that no one thinks at all. It's just business as usual, from the highest levels of government on down.

Our outrage over this should be deafening and it should be coming from all fronts--from elected officials, business leaders, advocacy groups, and people like you--people in a position to be heard. If we do not feel compelled to express that outrage, perhaps it's because too many of us think a six- or seven-figure salary means black isn't black anymore. Some of us have been lulled into thinking that we have more in common with white billionaires than with the poorest African Americans, even though most of us are two paychecks (or more to the point, one natural disaster) away from joining them!

But let's say you do share my sense of outrage. What are you doing about it? I urge you to make a long-term commitment to the Gulf Coast recovery effort. I don't mean just writing a check I mean making it your business to see that the recovery does not exclude those most affected--African Americans in desperate need of homes, jobs, education, and opportunity. The rebuilding of New Orleans and the rest of the Gulf Coast will cost an estimated $100 billion or more. We must ensure that black-owned companies are significant participants in the effort it will take to restore the area. Pressure our elected officials to stand up for our economic interests as the process goes forward. Silence is not an option.

Yes, I'm still angry. And I'm going to stay angry as long as racism and ineptitude create suffering for the victims of Hurricane Katrina and African Americans everywhere, because it motivates me to take off the gloves, roll up my sleeves, and fight for the future my children and grandchildren will inherit. Working together, we will weather this storm and bring forth a new season of opportunity and prosperity for all African Americans.