Showing posts with label Anita Laffey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anita Laffey. Show all posts

Friday, May 31, 2013

The Second Source of Support: Red Cross Disaster Mental Health Services

by Lilly Watson, Communications Manager, American Red Cross North Texas Region 
Red Cross Disaster Mental Health worker Anita Laffey
& her husband John, also a Red Cross volunteer
Anita Laffey, a veteran Red Cross Disaster Mental Health (DMH) worker, knows that her job is to be with people after disaster. In Zone 3, the highest impacted area from the fertilizer plant explosion in West, Texas more than a month ago, she stood in the backyard of a woman’s destroyed home while the owner pointed to each green plant, explaining what type of flower it was. To an untrained eye, talking flowers may have seemed like irrational behavior from someone given two, twelve hour blocks to get everything from their home before demolition. Laffey patiently listened and offered comfort, knowing this was part of this victim’s emotional breakthrough. 

“This woman’s garden was her pride, and she hoped it would be her legacy,” Laffey says, who worked 14 days as the DMH lead in West. “She was realizing that she wouldn’t be here to see them bloom in a few short weeks, and she was saying goodbye to everything in life she expected to have before the sudden explosion.” 

The American Red Cross responds to disasters of all kinds and sizes, working to ensure that victims have the first necessities as they determine what to do next with their lives. Hygiene items, snacks and warm meals and a safe place to stay are often part of a Red Cross response. Another Red Cross service provided is emotional support, whether it is a hug from a Disaster Action Team member at a home fire or a visit with a Disaster Mental Health worker at a large disaster such as the explosion in West or the tornado outbreaks in North Texas and Oklahoma.

Beginning at daybreak the morning after the plant explosion on April 17, Laffey led a team of up to 18 trained and licensed mental health caseworkers to help bring hope and comfort to the people of West. Knowing immediately that this response would be different because of the private nature of the tight knit community, the Red Cross adapted its strategy and found the best way to help people in West was to show them how to help others.

“We had business cards with mental health tips and warning signs on them that we passed out to people in West as we visited with them, and instead of making it sound like we thought they needed help, we asked them if they would keep it handy and use it as a way to check on their neighbors,” Laffey explains. “West is a strong community, and empowering them to help others was often better than making them feel as though they were in need of help themselves.”

While Laffey explains that for the first weeks it was important for victims to stay out of their emotions enough to make the decisions necessary to take steps towards recovery. Now, more than a month after the blast, is when those impacted will likely begin to see the emotional enormity of their loss. 

Like the woman saying goodbye to her garden, Laffey says the emotion comes from suddenly losing things that are the heartbeat of life in a formerly quiet and peaceful town. 

“People are really saying goodbye to a community’s history, from their brave volunteer fire fighters, to their schools and their neighborhood,” Laffey says.

The Red Cross Disaster Mental Health team worked with local church ministers, school counselors and West’s Mental Health Mental Retardation center to make sure they have resources on the emotional after effects of disaster and are getting breaks themselves to cope with the changes going on in their own town. 

Even as new relief efforts in North Texas and Oklahoma spring up, Red Cross caseworkers are continuing to do follow ups on victims in West that might still be in need of help, emotionally or otherwise. 

Laffey sounds determined that her work in West will reach everyone in need there, saying, “We’re going down the list, one by one, to make sure we’ve talked with every single family.”  

This National Mental Health Month, if you are a licensed mental health professional, consider bringing your skills to life in a new way as a Red Cross volunteer. Visit us at redcross.org to learn more.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

"Mommy, I'm Scared." Ways to Comfort Children During Disasters

Written by Amy Yen, volunteer contributor
When her family in Mandeville, Louisiana was being evacuated during Hurricane Isaac, eight-year-old Ashley Taylor did what any responsible girl would do: she left hurricane behavior rules for her stuffed animals. They included instructions on going to the bathroom (“Take a buddy”), having fun (“Have fun!) and general behavior while she was gone (“Stay calm. No parties”).

Stories like this can make you smile at the resilience of children in the face of disasters. Red Cross disaster mental health workers work with families who are evacuated during disasters to ensure that children come out of it with their smiles intact.

Anita Laffey, a retired licensed social worker who has worked as a disaster mental health volunteer with the Red Cross since Hurricane Katrina in 2005, says children are a special focus because they often don’t really understand what’s going on.

“Children, particularly under the age of 10, often can’t express what they’re feeling in words,” Anita explains. “They express themselves in their play. So we try to provide them with crayons and markers and toys, and we try to keep them busy. Most of all, we listen. That’s how we can find out how they’re feeling.”

The Red Cross sends disaster mental health workers to shelters, as well as out into communities to actually seek out families affected by the disaster. For example, Anita deployed with a team including a case worker and a health services worker during the wildfires near Oklahoma City in August. In addition to large scale disasters, disaster mental health volunteers also work year-round with local Disaster Action Teams (DAT), who deploy day or night for disasters or any size, from floods to apartment fires.

“A lot of what we do is work with parents and caregivers, letting them know what to look for, like if the children are eating and sleeping normally, and what they are saying about the disaster. We tell them not to let them watch too much television or news about the disaster. It’s also important to keep the routine as normal as possible,” says Anita.

This often isn’t easy if a family has been evacuated to a shelter, but buses are often made available to take kids to school. Parents are coached to make sure kids do their homework and keep everything as normal as possible. Most importantly, parents are asked to be a good role model to their kids during a disaster.

“Let them know, it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to be angry. We’re going to get through this together, it’s going to be okay,” says Anita. “Possibly the most important thing is just to be present, be available for the child and if you can’t, make sure another adult is, like a grandparent or a neighbor. Establish a sense of safety, because that’s what’s been taken away.

“If the children’s behavior isn’t normalizing after a few weeks, we tell parents to get back in touch with us so we can help or refer them to someone. But most of the time, after the initial shock of being in a disaster, they come out okay. Families are resilient. Children are resilient, especially if parents step up to the plate and show them how to handle a disaster.”

One way you help is to sponsor a Piper the Puppy for $100. This stuffed animal is given to a child during a disaster to comfort them.

“We make sure the child has something in their hand. A Piper the Puppy makes a big difference,” says Anita.

We’re sure Ashley Taylor would be proud.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Journal to Home: Road to Relief

At the beginning of July, 30 volunteers from the Panhandle to DFW deployed to help reliefs efforts in Montana, Florida and Colorado. Anita Laffey, who spent 16 days in Colorado after wildfires burned across Waldo Canyon, shares a day from her journal about the ups and downs while riding in back of the response truck, meeting and caring for people facing utter devastation. 

Written by Anita Laffey, volunteer contributor

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Anita Laffey, Disaster Mental Health Services volunteer
Photo by Maru Del Real-Gwin, volunteer
It's Sunday. Day of Rest. Not for the Red Cross team though and certainly not for those we are going to meet today either. 

This fire is the most costly in the state's history so far, destroying 346 homes—that's nearly one for every day of the year. Today though, we bring hope and help into that battle zone. Since it's Sunday, we'll begin our route at 12:30 p.m. instead of first thing in the morning, doesn't mean a lighter day, just more people to visit with in fewer hours. I sit in the back of the response truck by the serving window, squished into bucket seats that are nearly engulfed by all the free supplies we'll soon be handing out. 

We don’t care who needs our assistance--local residents whose homes are now cinders;  their guilt-ridden neighbors whose own homes were spared while the homes on either side of them are ruble; firemen; insurance adjusters, and anyone else in the disaster area. Everyone is our customer. Our hottest product in this blistering heat?  Bottles of ice cold water. Two sturdy guys drive our truck today. One, an attorney, and the other, an archeologist and professor. The funny thing is, you'd never know there was a difference between them by the way they're dressed. One vest, our vest, hides all distinction of class, education, occupation and religion.

American Red Cross volunteers
Richard Garcia (left) and Peter Booth
Photo by Anita Laffey 
The driver stops in the middle of the road in the devastation area. His shotgun rider moves orange street cones aside, waves to policemen who smile at our Red Cross truck but yell at gawkers, and motions our driver to enter the “DO NOT ENTER” zone.  We all feel a tinge of pride—our Red Cross logo gains us instant respect and access without questions.  The ERV rolls slowly down abandoned streets. We hear our drivers call out to a man picking up a broken piece of china in what was formerly his kitchen,  “Hey, how about some cold water?  Know anyone who can use some STUFF from the Red Cross?  We got lots of STUFF!” Their lighthearted invitation brings a weary man to our serving window.

Spring up instantly, shove up the window, yank open the cooler, hand out dripping bottles of water as fast as our hands can retrieve them from the ice bins and then grab every piece of equipment or other useful item we can find. Push them out the window quickly to our drivers who are now rapidly handing out clean-up supplies as several groups of people appear. Usually we serve hot meals out of cambros on our trucks, but today is different. We're handing out bulk supplies to help residents clean up the mess left by the wildfire: shovels, rakes, buckets and mops, gloves, masks, sieves to glean for valuables as well as food, water, soap, personal items. We have so much to hand out today. Oh, and toys—big stuffed bears, Mickey Mouse dolls, beanie babies! 

For me, these toys are strategic. Tools of my trade. They open conversations with parents about their how their children are reacting to the loss of their homes in the wildfire. I'm working on the truck like any other crew member, but I'm actually a member of Red Cross Disaster Mental Health Services, here to listen to what families are experiencing and to help them cope with the trauma and stress caused by the disaster. 

I won’t do counseling—it’s too soon for that, not appropriate at this time. Instead, I do crisis intervention, remind people of what is normal in an abnormal situation,  offer community resources, and  keep individuals functioning as much as possible so they can take care of their survival needs immediately and prevent further loss.

Photo by Richard Garcia, American Red Cross volunteer
To a nearby father, we say, “How is your little boy doing?   Do you think he would like a Mickey Mouse toy or a beanie baby?  Sure, take whichever one you think he’ll want.  How has he been eating and  sleeping—not sleeping well because he says he’s afraid of the fire breaking out again?  It’s important to give children back a sense of control, power.  You might try asking him what would help him feel safe or asking if he wants to sleep in one of your shirts so he feels closer to you at night.  Here is a small booklet about other ways to help children in times like this.”  The father smiles.  He thanks us and takes the literature we hand to him.  He accepts 4 bottles of water, an ice chest, a shovel and rake, then disappears in the soot and ash. 

We smile and wave at everyone we pass, but sometimes part of me aches.  What can I say to the little girl who won’t talk to anyone now because her dog Brownie died in the fire?  What a terrible, helpless feeling. I wish we could magically bring Brownie back to life, or at least cuddle the silent little girl in a rocking chair and comfort her, sing lullabies to her, and make her pain go away. All I can do is give her a cute pink flamingo Beanie Baby, then quietly talk with her mother.  “My daughter is eating okay, and sleeps pretty well, but she won’t talk since Brownie died,” the mother tells us. We hand her a comfort kit,  talk about how normal it is to behave in weird ways during abnormal times like this, and also encourage her to monitor how her child is doing over the next week or two. If her child isn’t beginning to talk again, the local Red Cross chapter can give her more guidance. For today, perhaps the mother could focus on something positive that her daughter could do. Would the child like to plan a celebration of Brownie’s life and throw a party for him, and invite several of her friends?  What would she like to do to have happy memories of Brownie? The mother is delighted. She laughs and says,  “Oh, my daughter is going to love that idea! She’s my party girl, and I know she’s going to get all her friends to help her make a party for Brownie! Thanks!” 

We remind her to take care of her own needs as well as her family’s, to ask for help from friends and family, to eat and drink water even when she doesn’t feel like it, and to be a role model for her daughter. She nods in agreement. Along with a mop and bucket and cleaning solution, we give her a card with the phone numbers of the local Red Cross chapter and other community resources. 
At our next stop, we ask the slender, athletic-looking young woman if she needs a shovel and rake.  We can barely hear her when she talks. Does she have laryngitis? No, she whispers that she went back into her house too soon after the fire swept through the building, and her lungs are damaged by the smoke. Encouraged her to see her doctor! She’s scheduled to do just that, to see her doctor, this afternoon—we sigh with relief! She takes a large bottle of water, heavy-duty gloves, an ice cooler, and two boxes of clothes washing detergent. “Our clothes are so grungy!” she whispers. “We can’t wash them because we have no electricity and no washing machines.  Do you know of any organizations  that help people clean their clothes?” Oh dear. We hadn’t thought of that. So many things to learn, so many resources to identify!  We’ll check with our drivers and our ERV leaders to find out what is available, then go back to talk with the young woman again. We move on now.
Next stop is waiting. 
The fireman standing by the blackened skeleton of a motorcycle gladly takes a snack bag and a drink from us.  Some of the young people from Samaritan’s Purse who are literally sifting through the ashes of ruble for homeowners to locate what few valuables they can retrieve ask us for wash clothes to wipe sweat off their faces and soft drinks that still fizz.  We pass out bundles of wash clothes, six-packs of soft drinks.  A cluster of people descends on us at the base of the hill, asking for mops and buckets and cases of water.  We give them everything they ask for and more. And more. And more. Until our truck is empty. Totally, completely, shockingly empty.
Our volunteer work day is over. Today we served 200 people, gave out more than 600 bottles of chilled water, scads of ice chests, endless bins of snack bags and comfort kits, tons of shovels and rakes and other items, hundreds of flyers and booklets on ways to help children and adults cope with disasters, and we placed a zillion Mickey Mouses and Beanie Babies for adoption with needy children. I am pooped. The guys in the front cab of the truck have boundless energy, but I'm not accustomed to so much physical labor!
Only have one regret: that we don’t have more “STUFF!  Lots of Red Cross STUFF!” to hand out right here, right now!  Tomorrow morning, though, back to help the guys load up the truck with lots more Red Cross STUFF, move out, and rock and roll in the fire zone again. 
Special note: details important to identification of disaster victims have been altered to protect their privacy.
Anita's story touches the core of what the Red Cross mission strives to do through personal interaction during a disaster. Deployments are made every day across the country. Volunteers receive a call and are often on the road within hours, leaving family and friends for weeks to stand next to a stranger that is hurting. Here is a special thank you to all who deployed recently with the North Texas Region. You make us proud!
Colorado-Waldo Canyon Wildfires: Lavonne Adams, Rey Bailey, Robert Braden, James Brown, Lori Conine, Marguerite Dillion, Mary Farnum, Raenell Gore, Anthony Gojmerac, Dan Halyburton, Sarah Knosp, George Parr, Ken Riel, Jody Sosebee, Christy Stennis-Ball, Cheryl Thomas, Howard Tubre, Charles Wilson. 

Florida-Hurricane Debby: Melanie Collins, Albert Fiorentino, Jackie Fiorentino, Joseph Martin, Joel Moore, Dale Stroope, Mary Stroope, Angie Johnson, Helen Crain, Rita Kretzmeier


Montana-Wildfires: Greg Wood