Andie Gibbs

Days after Hurricane Katrina, out lesbian Andie Gibbs jumped into her Nissan Sentra and chased down a Red Cross truck that was about to pass right through her tiny town of Ovett, Miss. Gibbs lives at Camp Sister Spirit, a lesbian-owned all-welcoming feminist folk school and retreat center. Though hit hard themselves by the disaster--an office trailer was split in half by a 40-foot tree--the camp's members have since distributed about 2 million pounds of food to their largely conservative neighbors.

What was the devastation like?

It looked as if a bomb went off. My county, though 90 miles north of the coast, was in the northeast quadrant of the storm. Tornadoes are what got us. We have about 200 trees down just on our land alone. It took us three days just to get out of our drive--we live a half mile from the road.

Are people getting what they need, or are they still lacking?

We are still in high gear. People need to understand that folks are out of work--savings were spent running generators and for other necessities to get through the storm. Mississippi is one of the poorest states in our nation--my county is one of the poorest counties in Mississippi. We have always had a food bank because of this, in the 12 years that we have been here.

You've received donations from many different sources, but some of the LGBT donors have asked you to distribute their aid only to fellow queer people--a request you have refused. Why?

We are all human beings. We had a Baptist church in the area refusing assistance to Pentecostal people! Prejudice of any sort has no place at Camp Sister Spirit. It is not what we are about-it is the kind of behavior we are trying to eradicate. It irritates me no matter where it is coming from or why. Less than a mile from the camp entrance some idiot spray-painted the road in huge white letters--it said, "Niggers, don't let the sun go down on you in Ovett." African-American families had to read this when they left the camp! [We] painted over it with green paint in front of God and everybody.

And yet, thanks to your aid efforts, some of your neighbors who were formerly quite antigay seem to have come around.

It is an amazing thing. People who literally hated us have finally figured out that we meant what we said when we located here: that we wanted to be a positive part of this community. And we are, and we will continue to be. The mother and wife of a guy who shot at us moons ago has been making homemade candy and goulash to feed our volunteers. We have folks here from Iowa, Oregon, Michigan, Ohio, Minnesota, Texas--gay, straight, pagan, Christian, Jewish. You name it, they are here. I cried like a baby when they showed up with gifts in hand.

From gunfire to goulash--that's a change.

Used to be they stared at us and glared at us, and I went to the store today and everybody was hugging me and saying hi. I don't know how to react. I'm always on my guard, and now all of a sudden it's like, "Whoa, I don't have to worry about them shooting me no more."

How long will it take to rebuild completely?

Completely? It will never happen. Camp Sister Spirit is still in need of food, underwear [though no clothing], and household items.

HOW YOU CAN HELP

To learn how to donate to Camp Sister Spirit, click on ISSUE LINKS at www.advocate.com

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