Sr. Dot Trosclair was the President of the Eucharistic Missionaries of St. Dominic when Katrina hit New Orleans. She made this presentation as part of an LCWR panel in August 2006.

I always knew there could be a storm that might destroy the city: the signs were there, but down deep, I never believed it would be in my lifetime, and especially not during my leadership watch. How does one lead when most of what I learned about leadership before Katrina was not available to me? I will focus on four elements, but there were many more:

Meaningless and chaotic are profound descriptors of Katrina –driving wind and water pounding marshlands and barrier islands that protected Gulf Coast lands, surging wind and water, breaking levees, and washing away soil, trees, animals, boats, cars, homes, buildings, churches, people; overwhelming wind and water destroying dreams, security, trust:  Any semblance of life as it was before Katrina is gone; what remains is ecological devastation and displaced people. How does one lead? My community members left home with three changes of clothing and medication for five days.  It is now one year later, and some have never and will probably never return to New Orleans.

Discernment, which is at the heart of leadership, takes time - prayer, dialogue, weighing the pros and cons - we had no time. Our leadership team made life and death decisions to leave New Orleans, who would go where and with whom, in five minutes, and evacuation plans became a reality.

Communication - land lines, cell phones, Internet, and postal service that we count on to keep us connected across the miles were wiped out at a time when we most needed good communication.

Resources - We had no time to gather resources - no books, notes, files, financial records, and other consultative resources. Two leadership members were together post-Katrina in Kentucky with some of our sisters who had evacuated there, and the other was in central and western Louisiana, caring for our frailest elders who evacuated. Some weeks post-Katrina, one leadership team member resigned from leadership and requested dispensation from her vows but only after she got our frailest and eldest members safely to St. Catharine, Kentucky.

Prayer - how does one pray in the face of such a life-shattering event that affects mission, membership, leadership, family, friends, everyone, and everything that one knows and loves? I could just BE in silence, confident that God would find me in the chaos.

The only way to lead our fragile broken community was with the resources that were "at home" WITHIN. All the external props were gone. All of our sisters had questions: HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN? WHEN CAN WE GO HOME? DO WE HAVE ANYTHING LEFT? WHERE WILL WE GO WHEN WE HAVE TO LEAVE KENTUCKY? WHERE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE FROM OUR MISSIONS? My theme song became, I DO NOT KNOW. Not having answers to questions moved Jeanne and me to lead our sisters to the Eucharistic table, which is at the heart of our charism. Very soon after we joined our Kentucky Dominican sisters, where we still reside one year later, we began to gather in the chapel; what each of us did during that time, I do not know, but each day we returned. We sat in silence together and allowed the Eucharistic Presence of the Risen Jesus to companion and feed us. We are a missionary community, always being sent to feed others WITH WORD AND EUCHARIST in the ordinary everyday events of life. Post-Katrina, we learned another facet of our charism - we learned to RECEIVE. We did not choose to simplify our lives - Katrina did it for us. She took what we had, BUT could not touch who we are - she could not destroy our identity - that place where neither water, nor wind, nor mold could touch. During the days, weeks, and months following Katrina, we were nourished by the Eucharist through the goodness of others. Learning to receive has been humbling - utterly profound. Without the sisterhood of women religious nationally and internationally, I do not know how and where we would be.

For years, we knew a storm could destroy our beloved city; we ignored that possibility and continued to live as though it would not happen. Katrina shattered our denial system. What we could not see before Katrina became utterly clear to us in the aftermath. In our post-Katrina receptive mode, we are more cognizant of our strong denial system and much more open to radical change in our lives.

We had another strong denial system in place (besides the one that told us our life and mission in NO would never be destroyed by a hurricane) - it had to do with the viability of our community.  For years, my community denied the fact that we were dying; the signs were there - numbers declining, resources dwindling, missions closing, old systems failing, and energy diminishing for internal ministry and creative mission. We tried. We took advantage of the Viability Study and the NRRO Consultation. The recommendations confirmed what leadership already knew. Membership heard without really hearing. We spiritualized - "we chose to live and to live abundantly." We did some downsizing. In the face of significant resistance, we took the radical step of joining in a conversation with six other congregations of Dominican women about a possible Canonical Union. Katrina catapulted us out of another layer of our denial. We had to utterly surrender - when all is gone, there is space for transformation to happen - I can see and feel what surrender has done within myself, and I marvel at how it has shaped membership. I cannot even begin to describe what utter loss brings about because the process is incomplete. To lose all leaves one free to BE and ACT differently in life and mission. Those of us who were pre-Katrina residents of NO are scattered: 13 of us now live in Kentucky with the St. Catharine Dominicans; 2 live near Detroit; one has relocated to Tucson, AZ, and six of our sisters have returned to ministry in New Orleans.

Radical change begins slowly, almost imperceptibly, and it gradually permeates every crack and crevice until some catalyst breaks it all down and something new emerges. Katrina was that catalyst for us- she was beyond our comprehension or control - we didn't start her and we certainly could not stop her. The devastation was and remains beyond imagination.

Something similar is happening in religious life today - it is beyond our grasp and control. Do you sense it? Hard as you try, there is no reversing it; what needs to happen is beyond our ability to articulate or to plan. Post-Katrina, neither the local nor the federal government could facilitate growth fast enough because the devastation was so widespread. And because resources to rebuild were unavailable. Life began to emerge from the cracks where people let go of what was comfortable and safe, moved beyond themselves, and reached out to each other in radical new ways of human sensitivity and generosity, and receptivity. You've heard the stories of evacuees and those who came to help - lives were changed for both!

Religious life as we know it, like church and society, is unraveling at the seams. There is no reversing it; however, I believe that the new life emerging in the cracks will carry us into a future that you and I will never actually see or experience. Will we recognize small signs of growth and nourish them? Will we let go of familiar safety nets, trusting that God will provide the type of religious life best able to serve the mission of the future Church/world? Will we bring out in the open the changing realities of life that we almost dare not think of? Will we make the necessary changes without knowing what the future will look like? Will we find the faith and hope and creative energy within ourselves to lead our communities into the mystery of God and God's mission for humanity? As leaders, will we befriend chaos in the world, church, and religious life, confident that God will find us there? Will we let our voices be heard in the confusion of our times?

A long treasured quote from Gerald May (somewhat adapted) helps me live my post-Katrina soul-sadness and grief with a fresh hope.
I do not know. I do not know what is ultimately good or evil, nor even what is real or unreal. But I do know that there is no way I can proceed upon my own personal resources. In this as in all things, I am utterly and irrevocably dependent upon a Power that I can in no way objectify. I call this Power God, who is beyond even life and death. God's love and power and Sprit exist in me, through me, and in all creation. But God is unimaginably BEYOND all this as well. I also know that in my heart I wish to do and be what God would desire of me. Therefore, in humility and fear, I give myself. I commit my soul to God, the One Almighty Creator, the Ultimate Source of reality. Good or bad, right or wrong, these things are beyond me. I love, but I do not know. I live and act and decide between this and that as best I can, but ultimately, I do not know. And thus I say, in the burning vibrancy of Your Love and Terror, YOUR WILL BE DONE.

Quote from Gerald May