Gutting

My name is Lizzie, and I'm a senior. Though I've done other service trips, this is my first year in NOLA.

Today I gutted a house that hasn't been touched since the storm in 2005. That means we ripped down everything. We tore up the walls until all that was left were the bare bones of the house. This was an any means necessary sort of mission, and our rag tag team of about 15, me being one of three girls, were armed with sledgehammers, hammers, and crow bars of all different sizes. We threw our weight against these tools with 115% effort, and the time flew by.

We each were required to wear work gloves, safety glasses, a respirator, and a hard hat. Trust me when I say that every single one of these items saved me from serious injury on multiple occasions. I have an unbelievable respect for those who do this work every day.

If you're not familiar with construction, this may not be easy to imagine.

Picture this: you're on a rickety ladder, and every time you slam your hammer against the wall, it rains Sheetrock chunks, nails, toxic dust, and shards of black mold wood splinters. It's hot, you can barely breathe, there's noise everywhere: grunting as people exert every bit of energy they have to do this massive job, hammers banging, shovels scraping. And somehow, as you blink the shratnal out of your eyes, you find you are having the best time of your life.
That was today. There was a special place we were all in, where we just worked, and were sensitive to each other's needs. It's impossible to talk with the bright pink respirator, but somehow... We made it work.

I can't explain it. Today was was one of the best days of my life. I felt like I was finally a part of New Orleans. What we did mattered,, and I can't wait to make more memories like this.