One of the guys at the camp is a member of the Cajun Navy – at least as far as the term “member” can be used with the group. If you haven’t heard, the Cajun Navy is an unofficial group of folks from south Louisiana who, at their own expense and on their own time, offer assistance in flood situations. To put it in a nutshell, they show up with their boats and rescue people.
While this has been going on for some time here around home (there are plenty of folks who fish, hunt, own boats, and flooding has happened for a long time), the Cajun Navy burst into public awareness last year during the flooding in Louisiana of 2016.
Now, the Cajun Navy is part of the rescue response to the flooding of Hurricane Harvey. Paul (one of the guys at the camp) was able to get to Vidor, Texas, and one simple word summed up what was going on: Catastrophe. Back at home, the rest of us are looking for ways to help.
I think that the president summed up the feelings of most Americans when he referred to the outpouring of help and support as a beautiful thing. From my point of view, there is nothing surprising there. Natural disaster = helping each other.
A few days ago the Sacred Sisters (my prayer group) prayed for all affected, all who were helping, and asking for guidance – what can each of us do? I commented that my only surprise in this response is the surprise of the rest of the world – wow, look at everyone helping each other!
Well, of course! That’s what we do, isn’t it? Is it a reflection on the world that so many are surprised at the outpouring of help directed towards “complete strangers?”
Compassion. For Christians, it is being the hands of Christ. A non-Christian won’t use those words, but it’s still compassion and kindness.
We are all seeking ways to help. Sorting donated clothing for distribution to evacuees far from home. Cooking for evacuees and volunteers. Rounding up helpers. Collecting water and supplies for those who can go to affected areas. For every helper we see on the news, there are hundreds and thousands more working quietly behind the scenes, doing whatever they can.
The elderly lady making cole slaw in her kitchen. The overworked professional saying “what do they need?” and giving money. The school children collecting socks.
Maybe it’s because we know first hand the helplessness of floods. Maybe it’s because we know that there are thousands of large and small losses in each family, in each life. Perhaps we respond in part because we know the long, hard road that awaits the evacuees when they can get back home.
Then again, maybe it’s just because that’s what we do.
Perhaps the “surprise” and the “news” expressed by the media, and all across social media, aren’t so much surprise as backlash reactions to the hate-filled stories that have filled the mainstream news media outlets. No, that narrative is NOT what America is about. It’s NOT what the southern states are about. It’s NOT who we are.
THIS is who we are: People who give a damn. People who care about others, regardless of their skin color or faith. People who will get creative and not sit around to be told where and how to help, but who will find a need and address it, even if it’s taking the bass boat on the road or buying extra toothpaste and underwear to share with those who left home without anything – or something as unassuming as shredding cabbage for cole slaw or folding, sorting and stacking donated clothing.
This Labor Day, there are many, many Americans who are giving of their time, funds and labor to help others. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the holiday.
Joy doesn’t have to be complicated. Or cerebral. Or…anything other than a feeling of “wheeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!”
So rather than expound, I’ll do something simple, like sharing some photos of a couple of joyful doggies, because we all need to smile about something silly. Isn’t that supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?
Here’s some joy for you: Taking the dogs riding in the sugar cane fields on spring evenings.
Life is full of simple joys.
In choir practice this morning, Leon (who hails from Mississippi) made a comment about the word y’all, and how we just seem to forget that “you” can also be plural.
It made me think about a training class I’d attended earlier in the week. The trainer was from somewhere “up north,” and said she hadn’t ever gotten used to saying y’all, so she hoped we were OK with “you guys.”
Sigh. Well, ok, but just not from my lips. Y’all is a lovely and infinitely useful word. You see, I am a Southerner. I know that on the 8th day, God created coffee, crawfish and grits (in that order). And God looked at Creation, and said:
Now…a couple of very important (and oft-misunderstood) points about the word y’all:
1) Y’all is a contraction of the words “you” and “all.” Therefore, the correct spelling is not ya’ll, but rather y’all.
2) Y’all is not singular. Ever. See #1 above.
The word y’all is much more pleasant to the ears than the term “you guys.” The former is a soft, easy short “a” sound, and the word rolls off the tongue like velvet, no matter how quickly or slowly it is uttered. You guys, on the other hand, invites nasal sounds and even, depending on the speaker, a possible dipthong on the word “guys.”
I remember my shock in grade school when we were learning about contractions, and how to spell them…and that y’all was not a “real word.” Excuse me? And as noted above, it is only plural, in spite of how it may be used in the singular by those trying to “speak southern” (bless their hearts).
Y’all is not only polite; it is genuinely inclusive. While “you” can be plural, it may be confusing when used in a group. For example: “You come for gumbo this evening, OK?” This is fine if you are speaking to an individual without anyone else around. However, if the invitation is uttered to a group that way, you may wind up with only one person showing up (and the rest of the group being insulted).
“Y’all come for gumbo,” however, makes it quite clear. If you want to reiterate that the invitation is indeed meant for the group (in case there may be any doubt, or someone might think the invitation was for the individual and their family), “y’all all come” is perfectly acceptable, in spite of its apparent redundancy. Think of all y’all and y’all all as slightly similar to using a reflective pronoun.
“Y’all all come, make sure you bring your mom ‘n ‘em.” (Or you could say “papa ‘n ‘em” or “Marie ‘n ‘em” or whatever.) This means brings everyone y’all were just talking about, or “bring your usual entourage.” (It also means you made a whole lot of gumbo.)
I would love to see a southern revision of the Book of Common Prayer:
The Lord be with y’all. And also with you. Lift up y’all’s hearts…
Y’all welcomes everyone with a smile. It is itself an invitation to slow down, to relax, to breathe. The Shema begins with the words “Hear, O Israel!” In the New Testament, Jesus uses those words when He proclaims the greatest commandments. I think he was basically saying “all y’all listen!” While that may sound odd, it’s easier to imagine than his saying “OK, you guys…”
Peace be with y’all…with all y’all.
For an interesting geographic discussion of the use of y’all, visit