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As a participant in the NOLA Anthropocene Campus, I have gained insights on how communities, stewards, and managers of ecosystems in New Orleans have rolled out forms of interspecies care vis-à-vis ongoing environmental changes, coastal erosion, climate catastrophes and their deeply present and current effects (i.e., the 2010 BP oil disaster). Whilst much analytical lens has been given to geospatial changes in the study of the Anthropocene, here, I focus on how relations to non-human beings, also threatened by the changing tides of NOLA’s waterscapes, can enrich our understanding of such global transformations.

After disasters like Katrina, urban floodwaters harbored many hidden perils in the form of microbes that cause disease. Pathogenic bacterial exposure occurred when wastewater treatment plants and underground sewage got flooded, thus affecting the microbial landscape of New Orleans and increasing the potential of public health risks throughout Southern Louisiana. But one need not wait for a disaster event like Katrina to face these perils. Quotidian activities like decades of human waste and sewage pollution have contaminated public beaches now filled with lurking microbes. Even street puddle waters, such as those found on Bourbon Street, contain unsanitary bacteria level from years of close human exploitation of horses and inadequate drainage in 100-year old thoroughfares. More recently, microbial ecologies have also changed in the Gulf of Mexico due to the harnessing of energy resources like petroleum. Lush habitats for countless species are more and more in danger sounding the bells of extinction for the imperiled southern wild.

Human-alteration has severely damaged the wetland marshes and swamps that would have protected New Orleans from drowning in the water surge that Hurricane Katrina brought from the Gulf of Mexico. The latter is something that lifelong residents (i.e., indigenous coastal groups) of the Mississippi River Mouth have been pointing to for a  long time. Over the past century, the river delta’s “natural” infrastructure has been altered by the leveeing of the Mississippi River. Consequently, much of the silt and sediments that would generally run south and deposit in the river mouth to refeed the delta get siphoned off earlier upstream by various irrigation systems.

While some actors see it as a futile effort, there have been many proposals to restore the Mississippi River Delta. For instance, the aerial planting of mangrove seeds has even been recommended to help protect the struggling marshes and Louisiana’s coastal region. Tierra Resources, a wetland’s restoration company, proposed that bombing Lousiana’s coast with mangrove seeds could save it. Mangrove root systems are especially useful in providing structures to trap sediments and provide habitats for countless species. Additionally, mangroves have been touted as highly efficient species in carbon sequestration, thus taking carbon dioxide out of the biosphere.

Species diffusion into new environments has been of great concern for the different lifeways these soggy localities sustain, whether human or non-human. Many so-called “invasive species” have been identified throughout the river delta by researchers at the Center for Bioenvironmental Research hosted by Tulane and Xavier University. Such species have disrupted local ecological relations and practices and have had profound economic effects. Some plants have even entirely blocked waterways in the swamps and estuaries where salt and freshwater mix. 

Louisiana’s humid subtropical climate, and the diverse ecosystems therein, also warrant attention in that they can incubate some of the world’s deadliest parasites and other microbes. Of particular concern would be some of today's Neglected Tropical Diseases (i.e., Chagas, Cysticercosis, Dengue fever, Leishmaniasis, Schistosomiasis, Trachoma, Toxocariasis, and West Nile virus) often perceived as only affecting tropical regions of Latin America and revealing the enduring legacies of colonial health disparities.

How and when are seemingly quotidian events and upsets understood as not isolated but rather as produced in conjunction with other anthropocenics worldwide? What roles will interspecies relations and forms of care play as we cope with further anthropocenic agitation?

NOLA’s oldest tree, McDonogh Oak in City Park, 800 years old: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DK9YoGpng_c&t=0s

Other trees in New Orleans: https://www.atlasobscura.com/things-to-do/new-orleans-louisiana/trees

1)      From the perspective of readers or hearers of stories that are in process, plot is less a finished form or structure than an engagement with what has been told or read so far in relation to imagined outcomes that the story may bring - outcomes that are feared, longed for, or seem ironically or tragically inevitable.

2)      Second. several prototypical plot types can be identified among the illness narratives, as well as among the specific stories of which they are constituted. These have a distinctive cultural form, rooted in Turkish popular medical culture. They are present as the plot structures of the narratives we heard. They are also available as cultural resources for those in the midst of illness attempting to make sense of their experience; that is, they are possible stories one might reasonably tell about such an illness, potential plots giving order to the events one is experiencing.

3)       Meanwhile, he continues to work in a job at the municipality, where he is treated well by co-workers. His major concern is that he and his wife have had no children, and he wonders if either the illness or the medications are to blame. This, rather than treatment of the primary disease, organizes his interest in shaping the outcome of his illness story.

Miriam Ticktin, PhD, is a current associate professor of Anthropology and a co-director of Zolberg Institute of Migration and Mobility. She received degrees from both Stanford University, Oxford University, and Ecoles de Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales. Her work typically focuses on the intersection of medicine, science, law, anthropology, and postcolonial feminist theory. She has multiple publications on the above subjects, including journal articles, books, special journal issues, and chapters. 

The report comes within a much larger book edited by Richard Hindmarsh focused on the Fukushima nuclear disaster. The book as whole explores social, environmental, and political issues in the aftermath of the incident. It appears to be available at multiple collegiate libraries including Boston College, Williams College, Harvard University, MIT, and Cornell University.

BSVAC was founded during the height of the crack-cocaine epidemic, when gang and drug violence were rampant throughout the city. While violence has decreased in Bed-Struy, felony assaults as of 2013 stood at around 5.9/1000, well over double the NY city-wide rate of 2.4/1000. This is an area rife with poverty, with median income of about $19,000 and a population heavily dominated by non-white individuals (latino, african-american, multi-race, ect.). Hence, the organization has been heavily molded by this urban, highly volatile environment. The vast majority of BSVAC personnel are of color and outreach is primarily aimed at keeping non-white youth away from street or drug life. The heavy emphasis on gun and drug violence in the area shapes the call volume and type, with shooting and stabbing wounds being a regular occurrence. The agency, for the most part, is a trauma-based service. Thus, their responses to calls would be different than an ambulance without this lengthy history and experience. Moreover, BSVAC has played a role in volunteering and responding to large-scale disasters, such as 9/11, Hurricane Katrina, and Haiti. As members are highly experienced in high volumes of large traumatic injuries, they are well-equipped to handle larger emergencies (similar to the ER physicians in County Hospital of LA or the trauma surgeons in Cook County outside Chicago).

The report quite clearly details the need to change our approaches to healthcare and epidemic emergencies. Currently, we seem to address these events in a singular method, and are unwilling to alter this approach. This is partially due to the narrow scope of patient care; for the most part, administering care to patients follows a standard guideline that does not seek to reach beyond that singular case. It is beyond the scope of a practitioner to attempt to mitigate socioeconomic discrepancies within their clinics alone. However, as Farmer and his colleagues argue, broadening this standard is necessary to combat illness. Biosocial factors, not just medicinal factors, need to be tackled in order to fully combat disease.