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Daryl Malek-Wiley at his showcase booth.
Photo by Pat Joseph

by Pat Joseph
Exhibits

With his ruddy cheeks and Saint Nick beard, Darryl Malek-Wiley looks like an off-duty Santa Claus as he stands before his booth in a well-worn ball cap and a taut-across-the-belly t-shirt. He's not particularly jolly, however. Not these days.

Darryl Malek-Wiley is an evacuee. He and his wife got out of New Orleans early on the Sunday morning before the cyclone struck. They went to stay with relatives north of Houston. Like the others who fled that forsaken city, they have not been back to survey the damage. Among other things, he wonders about the six or seven cats they left behind. "I tried to put one of the tamer ones in a pet carrier, but there was just no way. These are outdoor cats." An environmental justice organizer with the Club, Malek-Wiley is in fact worried about a great many things. With respect to post-Katrina New Orleans, he says, "There are so many issues to contend with -- issues revolving around toxics, around human health, around environmental justice."

Among the environmental justice concerns is whether the city will be cleaned and rebuilt equitably. Will the levees around affluent neighborhoods be shored up before the ones around poor areas are? Will white areas be cleaned up more thoroughly than black ones? And will the diversity of the city be restored, or will poor black and hispanic labor be used simply to rebuild a suddenly gentrified city which has no room for them?

What does he, personally, see for the future of New Orleans? "I just don't know. This is going to change America. It can makes us better, or it can make us worse. But I've always believed that to be an environmentalist you have to be an optimist. Otherwise, you'd just give up."

As he stands before the humble display he pieced together at the last moment ("I had a better exhibit," he says apologetically, "but it's at home in New Orleans"), people come by to offer words of condolence and encouragement. Some give money. One woman hands him a folded wad of crisp twenties. "Use this to help," she says, and quickly walks off before Darryl can say thanks.

-- 09/10/2005 Sat
12noon