TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/111191/1111170.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 8.5 KB | 169 lines

                                                                                AMERICAN SCENE, Page 28

Four Corners, Louisiana

Raise High The Roof Beam


With sweat equity and private financing, the women of an
impoverished backwater are building their own future

By DANIEL S. LEVY


    Josephine Roberson positions a chalk line along the top
of a sheet of plywood as Nolan Derouen flicks the taut string
and imprints a fuzzy red stripe across the board. They slice
the wood to size, carry it into Betty Hines' living room and
nail it to the ceiling. Hines works at the back of the room,
straining from the rungs of a ladder as she attaches tiles to
the plywood with the aid of one of Derouen's assistants. Heavy
rains, excessive groundwater and years of neglect in southern
Louisiana's sugarcane region have led to creeping decay in
Hines' home. Now, instead of harsh sunshine peeking through
rotting walls, daylight filters through brand-new window frames.

    Through a mixture of sweat equity and private financing,
the women of Four Corners are replacing old wood with fresh
clapboards, drying up stagnant pools and sealing busted pipes.
The homes are livable again, and the community has found a new
pride and hope for a better future. "It is a hard job, but
together we can do a lot," says Roberson in a soft, raspy voice.
"What gives us so much courage and strength is that we have so
many people standing behind us helping us build our community."

    Roberson, 59, is one of a determined band of women in this
small unincorporated hamlet 20 miles east of New Iberia. Most
of the 150 houses have antiquated wiring and leaking roofs; few
public services reach places like Four Corners. As the cane
industry became mechanized, many people lost jobs that their
families had held for generations. The average annual family
income in this town of 400 is below $10,000.

    Life appeared grim until March 1989, when the directors of
the Southern Mutual Help Association, a New Iberia-based
organization that has been working for 22 years to improve the
lives of sugarcane workers, met with 15 of Four Corners' women
and offered to help them help themselves. The women founded the
Four Corners Self Help Housing Committee and pledged to work
together to rebuild their lives. The five-year project has not
only shored up the homes but has also created a sense of
accomplishment among the residents. "We held up a mirror to
them, so that they could see themselves," says Lorna Bourg,
Southern Mutual's assistant executive director. "They are
reflecting their sense of self-worth."

    Since 1969, Southern Mutual has worked to improve the
lives of those who toil in the fields. Back then, many
farmworkers lived behind the "cane curtain" in self-contained
plantations with names such as the Bottoms, Oxford and Dog
Quarters, filled with rented shacks reminiscent of the tarnished
side of the antebellum era. The field hands were paid with chits
and exchanged the paper for goods at overpriced company stores.
Since crops are seasonal, the field hands ran up large tabs,
which were then deducted from their pay and resulted in a
lifetime of indenture. Those who quit were ordered off the land.
Virginia Sutton, 74, a graying yet dapper great-grandmother of
17 and co-chairwoman of the group, once labored in the sugarcane
fields for 70 cents a day. "We used to work from can't to
can't," she says, recalling the long days. "You go to work, it
is so dark you can't see your hand, and when you finish, you
still can't see your hand."

    Southern Mutual was the first to document the number of
farmworkers in Louisiana. It fought for their legal rights and
helped them obtain more than $1.25 million in back pay. It
established the first farmworkers' medical and dental clinics,
gathered oral histories of life on the plantation, founded an
adult-literacy program, set up a scholarship fund for the
children, documented the use of pesticides and is currently
fighting against the spraying of certain chemicals. "Four
Corners' new motto is `From can't to can,'" says Bourg. "From
can't do to can do." Sutton now proudly shows off her
refurbished home. "Southern Mutual opened up our understanding,
so that we could know what we can do and can't do," says Sutton.
"They came with good ideas about what we could do to help
ourselves."

    The organization came to Four Corners with years of rehab
experience in other communities. Yet when its members arrived,
the initial response of the local women was wariness. Says Mary
Matthews, 55, Four Corners' other co-chairwoman: "At first, I
didn't think it would work, but we then put our heads together
and did it. Soon others heard about us and joined us. Now we
don't want to quit. We want to finish."

    Southern Mutual arranged for carpenters, plumbers and
electricians to work alongside the women and teach them the
necessary skills. "We won't get a carpenter or a plumber out
here unless he shows the committee members as much as they can
and want to learn," says Bourg. Much of the credit for the
project's success belongs to the professionals, men like
Derouen, 57, who have given more than just their time. Derouen,
who just helped complete 11 houses and is ready to begin work
on an additional 15, encourages the women, supplies materials
at a discount and once even presented Southern Mutual with a
laughable $12.50 bill for roof repairs and materials.

    Initial work in Four Corners consisted of emergency
repairs: some homes were in such poor shape there was no hope
of restoration, so new ones were trucked in from nearby
communities. Subsequent chores included rewiring, plumbing or
simply applying a fresh coat of paint, which is generally done
by Four Corners' star painter, Thelma Collins. The women raise
money through bake sales, barbecue dinners, fish fries and a TV
raffle that netted $1,345. All money is deposited in an account
at Iberia Savings Bank, which, along with Southern Mutual and
in conjunction with the Federal Affordable Housing Program, has
set aside up to $250,000 to make 1% loans to the residents. "The
people live in our community, and we have a responsibility to
provide them with decent housing," says Larrey Mouton, president
of Iberia Savings. "We want to teach them about financial
affairs, so that they can pull themselves out of this cycle of
poverty."

    By year's end, the women hope to complete an additional
six homes. They are forming a community-development corporation
to rebuild the whole village, not just the housing, and have
started to spread the do-it-yourself project to neighboring
communities, like Sorrel. The work is not going unnoticed:
Louisiana Governor Buddy Roemer declared Oct. 24 Four Corners
Community Day to celebrate the spirit of self-help.

    Most days the nondescript, rain-soaked community is filled
with the sounds of crowing blackbirds, howling dogs and
squealing pigs, along with the pounding of hammers and the
whining of electric saws. Women and a few men can be seen
carrying beams, and newly dug ditches quickly fill with golden
ragworts, fire-ant hills and crayfish chimneys. Groups of women
gather lumber from demolished houses, stretch the long boards
across sawhorses and pry out old nails. After the wood is
cleaned, it is sorted and stored in a shed for later use or
sale.

    Priscilla Loston, 35, the group's feisty treasurer, is one
of the nail pullers. She recently received a new home, a former
country barroom that was transplanted to Four Corners to
replace her tumbledown shack. She did much of the makeover,
dividing the interior into separate rooms and installing
paneling and electrical boxes. "This is Four Corners Self Help,
not sit on your butt and get help," says Loston, as she yanks
out a stubborn nail.

    At the regular Monday evening planning session, 30 women
meet at the local Catholic church and loosely follow Robert's
Rules of Order. The minutes are read. Loston announces how much
is in the bank and what donations have been sent in. The women
discuss the work and announce upcoming projects. A few members
ask to borrow $500 to $1,000 for paint or supplies. New members
sign a pledge to help repair every house in the community, and
the lax and lazy are goaded to work harder. When all is done,
the women hold hands as Roberson leads them in an impassioned
prayer thanking God for his help. They then wish each other good
night and head out into the dark, back to their refurbished
homes to prepare for another day of work, another day of change.