Ninth Ward

“Signs everywhere, Lanesha. Pay attention.” 

On her 12th birthday, Lanesha thinks about numbers as signs as she finishes math homework. She reflects on Mama Ya-Ya’s reminder to her regarding other noticeable signs in her environment. The line also contributes to the mystical undertones of Mama Ya-Ya’s characterization and shows Lanesha’s easy acceptance of both the concrete (math) and the abstract (signs in dreams that represent deeper meanings) in her world.

“Fortitude is three syllables. Three is a powerful number. It means life. It means making peace with your thoughts, words, and deeds.” 

Lanesha’s English teacher Miss Perry offers this vocabulary word on Monday. The fact that Lanesha is interested and excited by the word, its definition, and its deeper, more representative meaning is evidence of her character traits (intelligence, curiosity, strength) and foreshadowing, as Lanesha will need great fortitude to endure the approaching literal and figurative storm.

“My first bridge would be from lower Ninth Ward to Uptown, New Orleans. If I built a beautiful bridge to my family, maybe they’d walk across? Or else let me?” 

Inspired by her math teacher Miss Johnson to learn more about engineering bridges, Lanesha’s imagination is full of bridges in the sky. This line shows that her mother’s family, from a much wealthier section of the city, is never far from her mind. She has never met them, having been Mama Ya-Ya’s ward since she was born.

“I’m happy. I think this neighborhood is my family. Right here. Now. Who needs a dumb Uptown family?” 

After Lanesha and TaShon welcome Spot to their street, Lanesha feels happy and content. Neighbors’ remarks about TaShon and Spot, and their relaxed attitudes on the beautiful afternoon, evoke a tone of acceptance and friendship. The line shows that Lanesha recognizes on a rudimentary level that happiness and love do not rely on blood relationships or material comforts.

“My grandmother sees things too […] We just don’t talk about it.”

Ginia tells Lanesha this piece of personal information when Mr. Ng asks Lanesha what Mama Ya-Ya is “seeing” about the approaching storm. Before Ginia says this, Lanesha is certain Ginia will abandon the thought of being friends with her after hearing about Mama Ya-Ya’s powers of perception. She is relieved and somewhat amazed, however, when Ginia proves to be accepting and understanding. This line of dialogue is notable because it prompts Lanesha’s cautious yet increasing hope for a real friend in Ginia.

“The storm ain’t the problem. The storm ain’t the problem.” 

Mama Ya-Ya’s growing concern over the storm is evident in this line, which she mutters mostly to herself. Lanesha watches with increasing anxiety as Mama Ya-Ya focuses on the weather reports. In a historical context, the line highlights how although many people in New Orleans prepared for the hurricane, few were able to prepare for the flooding that came after the storm.

“A white spinning cloud has turned my neighborhood upside down, inside out.” 

The pleasant noises of late summer in the Ninth Ward, evident in the first three chapters, have been replaced by the discord of storm preparations and TV weather reports. Even when Lanesha makes a late-night attempt to buy more supplies, neighbors are busily readying for the storm. This line is significant in that Lanesha’s focus on her neighborhood keeps the threat of the storm on a personal and human level for readers.

“How can it be mandatory if I don’t have a way to go?” 

Mama Ya-Ya’s key rhetorical question as she watches the mayor in the news conference succinctly sums up the paradox in which thousands of New Orleanians found themselves just before Katrina hit: They knew they should not stay, but they had no way to leave. Mama Ya-Ya does not have a personal vehicle or money for public transportation. Though the neighborhood is tight-knit and many in the Ninth Ward are checking on each other, few have the resources to help others leave town, as evidenced by the Watson family’s already crowded cars.

“For the first time, I really see the resemblance between us—me, being twelve, and her, seventeen. There’s only five years between us now. But as I’ve grown, she’s remained the same. It helps me realize how young she was when she died.” 

Lanesha gets nowhere with Mama’s ghost when she asks for information about the hurricane or the problems coming with it, but she does reveal telling details about her odd relationship with her mother’s ghost. Here, she is surprised to see how much she looks like her mother, as if she has not taken the opportunity to really observe Mama over recent years. This notion is introduced when Lanesha reflects on how she decided years ago to leave Mama alone instead of trying to talk to her. After years of self-imposed distancing, Lanesha sees their physical resemblance and reacts with empathy.

“I’m disappointed. Even more lost than before, feeling every bit an orphan.” 

Lanesha is already feeling abandoned and worried as neighbors pack cars and leave the Ninth Ward for other cities and places; her teacher Miss Johnson, whom Lanesha looks to as a mentor, made it clear she would be leaving New Orleans as well. Ironically, Lanesha uses her Uptown family in a fib to assuage Mrs. Watson’s worry about her and Mama Ya-Ya, telling her that her family is coming to help them evacuate. The truth is that no one—no family or friend—is able or willing to help Lanesha and Mama Ya-Ya; consequently, when Mama’s ghost fades away without revealing any helpful information about the storm, Lanesha’s sense of abandonment is already primed.

“I didn’t tell them Mama Ya-Ya was conflicted. Another good word.” 

Lanesha enjoys words and word study almost as much as math. Here, she shows her appreciation for the word “conflicted,” which contains a lot of meaning and significance. Mama Ya-Ya’s restless anxiety and odd behaviors since first dreaming of the storm outwardly demonstrate how conflicted she feels inside about the coming danger. Lanesha’s choice not to reveal Mama Ya-Ya’s real feelings to neighbors shows that Lanesha takes on more than her share of a burden to keep others from worrying.

“So, I have to decide. Prepare or not? Prepare.” 

Though Lanesha tries to keep her worry about the storm at bay through denial and self-comforting measures like drawing bridges, she finally accepts that she and Mama Ya-Ya might be safer with additional preparations. She readies food and boards the windows, helpful actions that are within her control. More importantly, by doing so, she begins to exhibit and practice the maturity and resourcefulness she will need to survive the coming ordeal.

“Rain whipping wood, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, smacking at trees, beating out any sap. Like a thousand Kansas homes, not just Dorothy’s, were being swept up by a tornado.” 

When the storm finally hits, Lanesha is shocked and panicked at its ferocity. She believes the house will be torn apart but has the wherewithal to herd Mama Ya-Ya and Spot into the bathtub; she knows the plumbing might help the tub stay put and the bathroom stay intact. This line of interior monologue is also significant because it shows Lanesha’s in-the-moment thoughts and the way her mind connects images and allusions to the ongoing disaster.

“Go see. See what the storm has brought. We’ll be up there soon enough.” 

Mama Ya-Ya shouts this to Lanesha, who wavers at the thought of going up the attic window in the dark after the storm passes. Lanesha wants to see the neighborhood from there but is afraid of what she might discover; she does not tell Mama Ya-Ya her intentions or fears, but Mama Ya-Ya knows them anyway. Mama Ya-Ya’s enigmatic foretelling abilities show that although she is weakening physically, her mental, emotional, and spiritual abilities are strong.

“I think the stars have all been swept away by the storm.”

Lanesha goes to the attic window at Mama Ya-Ya’s prompting once the storm passes early Monday morning. She cannot see any stars because dark clouds still cover the sky. She cries from the emotional stress of days of anticipation and worry as well as exhaustion and fear from the storm. This line is notable for its tone and foreshadowing; though they survived the storm, the dark and empty sky signals the trials yet to come.

“Hardly anybody on the streets. I kept thinking no one was as brave as me, even though I was scared.” 

TaShon manages to travel back to the Ninth Ward from the Superdome first by walking, then by accepting a ride from a white woman looking for someone named Lyle. His account provides Lanesha (and readers) with an eyewitness view of what New Orleans looked like just after Katrina hit. TaShon’s fear, the empty streets, and the accompanying imagery of foreboding foreshadow the coming flood and additional destruction.

“We’re all okay.” 

These are Lanesha’s last words to Mama Ya-Ya before the elderly woman passes away. Lanesha intuitively knows that Mama Ya-Ya cannot pass on until she is satisfied that Lanesha, TaShon, and Spot are safely in the attic. Lanesha cries when she realizes that Mama Ya-Ya has passed, but she finds strength and peace in Mama Ya-Ya’s words and love.

“That’s it! Time. I can measure the rate of water rising over time.” 

Soon after Mama Ya-Ya dies in the attic, Lanesha goes to check the rising water level. She realizes she can time the water’s progress by counting seconds as it creeps up the stairs. She calculates that she, TaShon, and Spot have approximately two hours before the water reaches the attic. In this line of interior monologue, Lanesha realizes that she can use one of her strengths—math—to solve a problem, demonstrating both her resourcefulness and gumption.

“Never before did I see any good side to seeing ghosts. But the thought of being able to see Mama Ya-Ya again comforts me.” 

Lanesha tells TaShon that Mama Ya-Ya is dead, then almost tells him she’s sure she will see Mama Ya-Ya’s ghost soon. At the last minute she keeps this thought to herself. Lanesha’s clarity and self-awareness are significant in this moment because these traits help her to stay strong, allow her to see the positive side of her gift, and direct her to anticipate seeing Mama Ya-Ya’s spirit.

“We’ve got to get out of the attic. If I stood in the water, I think it would cover me past my waist.” 

Going to the attic was something on which Mama Ya-Ya insisted. In this moment, though, Lanesha leaves behind Mama Ya-Ya’s direct counsel and forges ahead on her own. Her decision is based on her calculations about how fast the water is rising, and moving to the roof in time certainly saves their lives. This moment symbolizes Lanesha’s acceptance that she must make her own decisions now that Mama Ya-Ya is gone.

“It’s another world up here. Fresh air.” 

TaShon is the first to leave the attic. He crawls to the roof through the hole Lanesha chopped. The line is significant because it foreshadows survival for Lanesha, Spot, and TaShon, and because Lanesha is leaving behind Mama Ya-Ya and the house she has always known for a different, unknown life.

“Strength to endure.” 

TaShon acknowledges that it will take fortitude to survive their stay on the roof, and Lanesha immediately responds with this line, the word’s definition. The exchange is notable because it calls to mind how the two learned the word in school before the storm and flood, when they barely knew one another. Their use of it now signifies the growth in their bond.

“I am not too tired.” 

Lanesha is ready to give in to the thick, dark floodwaters when her mother’s ghost appears, helps free her caught leg, and tells her to live. In this important climactic line, readers see that Lanesha is physically and emotionally exhausted beyond measure by her struggle during the hurricane, but inspired by her mother’s help, she knows she is not too tired to survive.