gulfcoastoilspill
If the BP Oil Spill Had Hit Your Hometown…
originally posted by Jorge Rivas for RaceWire [click here]
Jun 16th
BP has tried eight different attempts to stop or slow the amount of oil spilling into the Gulf: Undersea robots to trigger the blowout preventer, the large containment dome, the top hat, the top kill, the junk shot…. the list goes on. And we still don’t have any certainty of how much oil has leaked into the Gulf of Mexico since the April 20th explosion.
What we do have are estimates — from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), from outside experts, from British Petroleum — of how fast crude oil is flowing out of the remaining leaks. According to NOAA, an estimated 840,000 gallons a day is coming from the remaining ruptures, but BP warns it could be as bad as 2.5 million gallons a day.
But those numbers, while overwhelming, can also feel abstract. So, Ifitwasmyhome.com is helping people visualize how big the spill really is. By taking data released daily from the NOAA that details where the spill is going to be within the next 24 hours, the site illustrates to visitors what the spill would be like if it hit their hometown.
BP Cleanup Worker Health Issues Add Up, And So Do Claims
originally posted by Julianne Hing for RaceWire [click here]
Jun 10th
Underwater efforts to cap the oil leak have been partially successful, but up on the water’s surface, the cleanup effort is being hampered by the many health issues cleanup workers have been dealing with. On top of that, temperatures in the Gulf Coast hit 110 degrees yesterday, prompting fireboats to start spraying water on the oil-slicked surface to combat the toxic fumes that the combined oil and chemical dispersants have created.
There are at least 24,400 people working on the oil disaster response, and ProPublica reports that so far 50 cleanup workers in Louisana have become ill. In Alabama, there have been 15 reported cases of illness.
But people don’t have much faith in BP’s ability to keep workers safe from here on out. Not only has the company threatened to fire cleanup workers who bring their own safety equipment, but lax government regulations mean the company is not required to provide respirators to workers or implement other measures that would ensure the safety of workers.
McClatchy reported that the government doesn’t specify levels at which workers can get sick from exposure to many of the toxins that they are being exposed to and BP is not responsible for evacuating workers or otherwise ensuring the safety of people who do cleanup work. One million gallons of dispersants have been used so far in the cleanup.
Meanwhile, the list of people seeking damages and promised claims from BP continues to grow. BP’s hired 700 insurance folks and claims adjustors, Dan Willis, BP America’s Vice President of Resources, said on Capitol Hill. Fishermen can file claims—captains are allowed $5,000 and deck hands make somewhere between $2,500 and $5,000, and once paperwork clears people who’ve lost wages because of the spill are eligible for more from the company. So far the company’s paid out 18,000 claims and predicted it will spend $84 million on claims through just June.
According to a federal filing made by BP today, the current cost of its response to the oil spill stands at $1.43 billion.
Photo: Getty Images/Win McNamee
In Oil Spill, Bayou Tribes Confront Yet Another Invasion
originally posted by Michelle Chen for RaceWire [click here]
Jun 9th
How many invasions can a community take? The Indians of Pointe-au-Chien in Southern Louisiana have endured centuries of colonization and exploitation–under the French, the Americans, and now, the oil industry. But the tiny Pointe-au-Chien community, which is cut off from critical disaster relief resources due to a lack of federal tribal recognition, has never seen a combination of human and natural catastrophe quite like the BP oil spill.
The Washington Post reports on local efforts to put the disaster in historical perspective:
“I would say it’s probably the worst thing” in the tribe’s history, said chief Verdin. He meant because the oil has shut down the fishing grounds, which had sustained the tribe for decades. “It’s shutting down our way of life. . . . Even during the Depression, during hard times, you grow your garden, you fish. You still eat.”
For members of the Pointe-au-Chien tribe, the question now is whether to take a temporary job laying boom in the marsh for BP’s cleanup contractors. The chief had urged even bitter tribe members to do it.
Not because he thinks the boom works: In fact, the oil seems to be sneaking underneath it. But because he thinks BP’s generosity will eventually run out.
“Whatever you can get, get it now,” the chief said.
The sense of hopelessness is surely deepened by the community’s economic dependency on the faceless corporation that caused the disaster. Reflection will come later; right now, people are just desperate to cobble together whatever help comes their way before the well runs dry.
If the federal government recognized the cultural and economic sovereignty of indigenous peoples, tribes might be able to weather environmental disasters by demanding that compensation take into account the weight of historical injustices. Currently, the Pointe-au-Chien Indians are at the mercy of a multinational company that seems more focused on limiting its liability than compensating victims.
The oil and gas industry has been encroaching on the Bayou habitat for decades now, and the tribes that inhabit the area, including the Houma and the Chitimacha, are oddly accustomed to living in the midst of perpetual crisis. But the fatalistic tone of one Houma tribal member says a lot about how this disaster might be the last they’ll ever face. Jamie Dardar, a crabber of Houma descent told the Miami Herald:
“The oil has locked us in… Everyone is on top of each other now and you can’t even drive a boat through there for all the traps.
“But it’s only a matter of time before they shut it completely down. It’s only a matter of time. This oil is just going to finish us.”
On Democracy Now!, Rosina Philippe of the Atakapa-Ishak community remained determined to hold onto their traditions, in part because the alternative was simply unimaginable:
We’re going to fight to stay here, because this is more than just our place, you know, like on a map, like a geographical location. This is our place in the universe. This is where we belong. This where we connect with nature. We’re part of this natural cycle. And if we weren’t here, we wouldn’t be who we are.
The plight of the indigenous communities magnifies the historical continuity between colonization and energy exploitation. Their identity is rooted in their sheer survival of one existential threat after another. But today, even they don’t know how this chapter of their story will end.
Texas Settlement Could Be Blueprint for Disaster Recovery
originally posted by Michelle Chen for RaceWire [click here]
Jun 8th
While the government struggles to confront the mounting catastrophe on the Gulf Coast, a legal settlement in Texas is set to put hundreds of millions in long overdue relief funds into the hands of disaster victims.
Since the 2008 hurricane season, some of the most vulnerable communities, who suffered displacement and other damage, have been short-changed by the Texas government’s recovery plan. The National Low Income Housing Coalition (NLIHC) and Texas-based partner groups announced on Monday that the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development has approved an agreement with the state that would “assure that federal disaster recovery funds expended in Texas will protect and benefit people with low incomes, African Americans and Latinos as well as elder and disabled populations.”
The groups originally complained that Texas had failed to deliver adequate aid to poorer households and people of color impacted by Hurricane Ike, neglecting their needs for affordable housing and protection from housing discrimination—a pattern bearing an eerie resemblance to the post-hurricane housing crises still afflicting New Orleans.
In Texas, someone has apparently gotten the message. The new recovery plan, according to NLIHC’s announcement, provides about $417 million to be invested in housing for low- and moderate-income survivors. Another $300 million in aid will go to “some of the hardest hit regions in the state whose housing needs were not addressed in Texas’s original disaster action plan.” Another feature of the new plan is a housing voucher initiative, known as “move to opportunity,” which will enable survivor families to secure affordable housing in other communities within the state that have better job prospects and stronger schools.
According to the Houston Chronicle, “The state did not acknowledge any discrimination,” but agreed to reallocate funds in response to the groups’ complaint.
The settlement could serve as a roadmap for advocates pushing for policy changes in the response to other disasters.
Advocates from across the Gulf Coast want HUD to extend its commitment evidenced in this historic victory in Texas to states affected by Hurricane Katrina by ensuring federal housing dollars are not diverted to unnecessary or discriminatory projects that will not benefit the most vulnerable populations. Advocates urge HUD to seek equitable resolution of cases pending in Louisiana and Mississippi in ways that similarly benefit families with low and moderate incomes and people of color.
But just when it seems like racial and economic justice activists are finally making headway in their pursuit of accountability in the government’s disaster response, a new crisis hits. The horrors of the Gulf Coast oil spill are just starting to surface, and the human toll will surely deepen as more communities and workers are exposed to toxic hazards and cut off from their economic lifeblood. And many are still reeling from Katrina’s fury, not to mention the economic collapse.
Both the impact and the recovery effort for the spill are likely to drag on for years longer than they did for recent hurricanes. These are uncharted waters for state and federal authorities, but if they’ve learned anything from their experiences in the Gulf Coast, they’ll make sure the survivors of BP’s nightmare are spared the devastating wait that communities endured in the wake of past storms.
Image: Frank Franklin II / AP