
Jeff Fard walked into the dormitory at Lowry on Monday and introduced himself to the Hurricane Katrina survivors. “I’m Brother Jeff,” he said.
That’s all it took. Floodgates of anxiety and alienation suddenly burst.
“One of the main questions they asked me was ‘Where are the black people in Colorado?”‘ he said. “They used those exact words. Then they said, ‘I just want a tour.’ ‘I just want to get connected.”‘
The executive director of Brother Jeff’s Cultural Center in Five Points was one of hundreds of volunteers from Colorado’s African-American community who have struggled to gain access to the evacuees. In the first hectic days at Camp Katrina, they were among the many well-intentioned volunteers who found it difficult to participate in the extraordinary effort.
Fard’s first attempt to offer help was utterly exasperating, he said. A writer for the Denver Weekly News, he asked for media credentials at Lowry on Sept. 6.
“The credentials went to nowhere,” he said. “I was very frustrated. It seemed like a barricaded place. I thought, ‘What’s going on here?”‘
He was hardly alone. By Friday, he was bombarded with calls from others who had offered help, only to be rebuffed. He scheduled a potluck dinner that night at the cultural center, and more than 160 people from 44 different community organizations attended.
Social workers, medical professionals, educators and leaders of the African- American community said they were told there was nothing for them to do. A member of the National Association of Black Psychologists said he was ordered to leave the site or his license would be revoked.
“Naturally, a lot of individuals took this personal,” Fard said.
This was not good.
“We didn’t want individuals (at Lowry) to feel like the African-American community doesn’t exist in this area or wasn’t interested in what was going on,” he said.
So the group got organized.
They immediately took up a collection to buy specialized hair and skin products for African-Americans. They created a database through the cultural center (303-297-0823) to match evacuees with jobs, homes and other offers of assistance coming from the community. And they scheduled a meeting with state officials and representatives of the other organizations involved in the relief effort.
“They were very, very receptive,” Fard said. “We were able to get access to Lowry and make sure key individuals were placed as team members.”
This was critical. The population evacuated from New Orleans has special needs, he said. “Cultural competency is paramount.”
Sometimes it’s a matter of being familiar with the New Orleans dialect. For some, it’s understanding what foods make the evacuees feel at home. For many, it’s being able to relate to someone who is estranged from what Fard calls “the dominant culture.”
“It’s easy to provide services for someone who has assimilated into the dominant culture. But if you’re dealing with someone who hasn’t, he may have ways and norms that can be frightening.”
Fard said some of the evacuees are so grateful for all the help and kindness, they’re embarrassed to ask for things they really need. One woman, for example, rushed up to him to ask where the nearest mosque was.
Others, he said, are troubled because they are unable to give back to the community. “One thing that’s culturally significant is that the Western ideal is rooted in individualism, while in communities of color, the collective is more important.
“You can’t just give to people in need,” he said. “There’s a disabling effect with giving. They need to be able to give their gifts as well. They need to participate.”
Fard said he knows that attention to the Hurricane Katrina catastrophe inevitably will fade. Our attention will move to the next crisis, the next disaster. The army of volunteers will move on.
“But we’re in this for the long term.”
The door is open at Brother Jeff’s.
Diane Carman’s column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. She can be reached at 303-820-1489 or dcarman@denverpost.com.



