View this post on the web at [link removed]
At the start of every hurricane season, families across the Southeast do the same thing: we check our emergency kits, stock up on groceries, and ensure our flashlights have fresh batteries. We prepare—because we know what’s at stake. I grew up on the Mississippi Gulf Coast and can name the storms of my childhood: Frederic, which took down a beloved oak tree at my kindergarten; Elena, which had us rushing north to shelter with my grandparents; and Georges, a storm that sent high winds and heavy rains more than 30 miles inland. In 2005, I hurried back to Mississippi days after Katrina, the deadly hurricane that ripped the roof off of the parsonage where my parents lived. Moving to Georgia years before also meant learning new contours of hurricanes, from Irma to Ida to Helene. But regardless of where you live in hurricane territory, we all know the pattern of the storms and the carnage.
Yet, while families are preparing, the Acting Director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) apparently didn’t realize [ [link removed] ] hurricane season had already begun. This wasn’t just a misstep; it raised real questions about whether those in charge are ready for the work ahead—and whether they understand the urgency communities like ours feel when a storm is on the horizon.
This isn’t simply about one comment. The Trump administration has proposed significant changes to FEMA, including shifting disaster response responsibilities to individual states and even considering dismantling the agency altogether. Ignorance has become a governing tool in this era of climate disasters and dwindling resources.
In a time of extreme weather, hurricane risk zones range in severity from Maine to Georgia, from Florida to Texas to Hawaii, not to forget the island territories that share our citizenship but not always adequate response. Across America, more and more of us know first hand what a storm can do. We know the fear that builds when the forecast darkens, the rush to prepare before the shelves go bare, and the days of darkness and uncertainty after the wind and rains die down. And we know that disasters don’t hit everyone equally. Time and again, it’s Black and brown communities, low-income families, rural towns, and disabled or elderly residents who are left waiting for help that never seems to come.
Experts are warning [ [link removed] ] that the 2025 Atlantic hurricane season could be especially severe. Yet, instead of investing in preparation, the administration has proposed deep cuts to the very programs that help us predict, plan for, and respond to disasters. This includes ending [ [link removed] ] the Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities (BRIC) program, which provided billions in grants to help communities prepare for natural disasters. Even more, they’ve shadow-banned services that recognize the disparities of race and disability—programs and preparations that have saved lives.
Meteorologist and veteran hurricane expert John Morales has been vocal about the increasing frequency and intensity of extreme weather events. Last year on my podcast, Assembly Required [ [link removed] ], John emphasized the importance of discussing the effects of extreme weather. He explained the science behind why storms are getting stronger, heatwaves are getting hotter, and droughts are becoming more frequent. Our conversation also highlighted how your vote can influence policymakers to mitigate climate change and the most impactful actions we need to take to help our communities.
Let’s be clear: budget cuts don’t hit spreadsheets. They hit people. They mean slower responses in rural communities, fewer shelters open during a crisis, and less information reaching families in harm’s way. Executive orders outlawing DEI ignore that in a nation of diversity, we owe access to salvation where we can, and we must include everyone under threat. When disaster strikes, the people most at risk—our elders, working families, communities of color—are the ones who wait the longest for help to arrive.
We deserve better. Our safety shouldn’t depend on luck, privilege, or proximity to power. It should be based on planning, leadership, and a shared commitment to protect one another—before, during, and after the storm.
So here’s what I’m asking:
Stay ready. Know your preparedness or evacuation plan [ [link removed] ].
Check on your neighbors—especially those who live alone or may need help.
Call your elected officials and demand full funding for disaster response and weather forecasting.
Be ready to help in the aftermath. Storms pass, but the damage remains. We must be there for each other [ [link removed] ].
Preparedness and recovery aren’t just personal responsibilities—they are opportunities to reclaim our patriotism. If FEMA and this administration refuse to do their jobs, now is the time to show up and practice how we can serve one another. Good government is a more efficient, effective solution; but we have to be ready when the fraud, waste and abuse they scream about actually describes the people in charge.
Doing for each other is our collective responsibility and solemn promise—and we have to keep the faith.
Unsubscribe [link removed]?
