Citizens’ City Hall

By Sarah Elise Lewis

When floodwaters filled the City, fires raged, and all our basic utilities were compromised, it was achingly obvious that the physical fabric of the community would take years to mend. Locals, outside entrepreneurs, and government entities would need to make unfathomable investments in rebuilding the City’s housing stock and basic infrastructure. That was a given.

What was not so clear at the time is a parallel loss – one that just as intrinsically undermined our ability to recover – the loss of the social ties that bound us to our communities and emotionally buttressed us when we were unsteady. Sociologists call this tight network of relations social capital.

The concept has long been used to describe the informal social networks that develop in vibrant communities. In her groundbreaking The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs (1961) identifies social capital as “that intricate web of human relationships built up over time – that provides mutual support in time of need, ensures the safety of streets, and fosters a sense of civic responsibility.” Thus, the term refers to the strength created by the aggregate familial, organizational, and friendship ties in a community. Ties that in many cases were severed when our neighbors, friends, and coworkers were scattered throughout the region and country.

We returned to find that friends and neighbors were gone. Our streets were empty. And we were uncertain whether the warm communities that nurtured us would ever return.

But they did return. And long before the City even produced “capital improvement” plans for fixing our streets and public buildings, the people of New Orleans were rebuilding their social capital. We strengthened neighborhood organizations, looked out for friends and family, and reaffirmed our roots in churches and social clubs. Our social capital made it possible for us to endure when government and environment threatened our way of life.

In retrospect, this should not be surprising. Many case studies point to such networks and organizations as the factors that enable mobilization and successful responses to community threats in disadvantaged neighborhoods. These initiatives make use of existing community groups to react to crime, joblessness, housing needs, and other emerging problems. We were no different. Our social capital seemed to function as a kind of latent power, a fluid commodity that drew us back home and made us proud to be New Orleanians.

Two local institutions that have fostered our social capital are Our Lady of Good Counsel and Saint Henry’s Church. These parishes returned after the storm to serve each other and their God. And to revitalize their neighborhoods.

Today the Archdiocese of New Orleans announced plans to close both parishes in an attempt to save money – in short, a lack of capital. Catholics have been told that they will all need to personally sacrifice in the face of these limited resources. They will need to recognize that the good of the whole eclipses their personal good. But their personal good – the comfort of worshiping in a church where your parents and grandparents worshiped or the access to a wise priest – is not the only thing at stake. When community loses these basic building blocks of connection and sources of support we all lose. And our “recovery” is sacrificing a little bit more of its precious social capital.