A TALE OF TWO CITIES: LONG TERM RECOVERY FROM DISASTER AND THE ARTICULATION OF INEQUALITY by ASHLEIGH ELAIN MCKINZIE (Under the Direction of Patricia L. Richards) ABSTRACT Although scholars have written much about disaster, disaster recovery, and how both can produce or exacerbate inequalities, less attention has been given to the study of intersecting inequalities in the context of disaster recovery. Most disaster scholarship tends to isolate one type of inequality. In this dissertation, I draw upon critical race theory, intersectionality, and feminist theory to argue for an intersectionality that is radically based on context. In this dissertation, the contexts are Joplin, Missouri and Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I draw upon fieldwork from 2013 to 2015 (a total of 10 months), 162 in-depth semi structured interviews, and archival data to answer the question of how inequalities are articulated in long-term recovery from disaster. I also investigate historical processes in both locations to understand how inequalities after disaster are based larger ongoing patterns. In addition to proposing intersectionality based on context, I have four main findings. First, in both Joplin and Tuscaloosa, historical inequities in housing and segregated spaces and existing class and racial inequalities influence who was affected by the storm and who was able to recover more quickly. Second, I show that colorblind racism varies based on context. Third, I find that the available of low-income housing in long-term recovery from disaster varies based on location, gender, race, age, and class. Fourth, I find that residents in Tuscaloosa are more collectively traumatized than are Joplin residents. I conclude with public policy recommendations. INDEX WORDS: Disaster Recovery, Intersectionality, Inequality, Tornadoes, Housing, Colorblind Racism, Collective Trauma, Missouri, Alabama, Reverse Redlining, White Flight A TALE OF TWO CITIES: DISASTER AND THE ARTICULATION OF INEQUALITY by ASHLEIGH ELAIN MCKINZIE A.A., University of Arkansas, Fort Smith, 2006 B.S., East Central University, 2009 M.A., University of Arkansas, 2011 A Dissertation Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of The University of Georgia in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY ATHENS, GEORGIA 2017 © 2017 Ashleigh Elain McKinzie All Rights Reserved. A TALE OF TWO CITIES: LONG TERM RECOVERY FROM DISASTER AND THE ARTICULATION OF INEQUALITY by ASHLEIGH ELAIN MCKINZIE Major Professor: Patricia Richards Committee: Jody Clay-Warner Pablo Lapegna Hilda Kurtz Electronic Version Approved: Suzanne Barbour Dean of the Graduate School The University of Georgia May 2017 iv DEDICATION This dissertation is dedicated to the citizens of Joplin, Missouri and Tuscaloosa, Alabama. You invited me into your homes, broke bread with me, cried with me, and shared your stories. This project would not be possible without you. I don’t personally know what it’s like to try to recover from disaster, and I am forever sad that you had to experience it. However, from the bottom of my heart, thanks for being willing to tell me about it. v ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS There have been many moments over the past eight years when I wondered to myself, my family, my husband Chevy, and to anyone who would listen, why in world I got into this business in the first place. Fieldwork, writing, analyzing, and experiencing vicarious trauma are all matters that take their tolls. At the end of day, despite all the challenges, it is the proudest moment of my life. I had unwavering support from many folks. I am not sure how I can name them all. I guess it makes sense to start from the beginning. Samuel Bruce Robinson, my father, unfortunately is not around to see this accomplishment. He was tragically taken from this world far too soon. He brightened the lives of everyone around him with his quick wit, silly jokes, fiery red hair and preaching. He was just an all-around good dude. He was also a scholar of sorts. He poured over his sermon notes, translated Hebrew into English, and looked for new interpretations of scripture. He was a gifted teacher and preacher. He was incredibly gregarious, relatable, and wise. Moreover, he moved around so quickly. He only had one speed: 1000%. I learned much of what I know from him and my mom, Leanne, and I see more and more Dad in me the older I get. Thanks for always encouraging me and loving me despite us not seeing eye to eye. We butted heads constantly but only because I am your “little Bruce.” There are not enough pages to fill enough books to fill enough volumes for me to express how much I love and miss you. I often say, “I’d do anything vi for another day,” and I can’t think of anything I would not do to have another day. Thanks, above all else, for teaching me how to be kind to others and appreciate the diversity of the human experience. Rest in peace. To Patricia Leanne Carlton-Robinson, my mom, the strong and stunning kindergarten teacher, you are a realist, frugal, smart, and funny. If dad’s passing did anything good for me (and strangely, a lot of good has come—beautiful things can come from sorrow), it was that it brought me closer to you. I will never forget that year I lived in Madill, Oklahoma. I learned new ways to lean on you and learned to let you lean on me. You’ve taught me perseverance, how to make demands, and how to love and nurture. You are always on the other end of the line, willing to still give advice to your now 33- year-old daughter regarding the stuff of bee stings, spider bites, flea remedies, fashion choices, and recipe substitutions. I could easily find the answers on the internet, but I just get “filled up” when I hear your voice on the other side of line, “Hi, Ash!” You used to say that I am your “sunshine” but I am quite convinced it is the other way around—it is you who “fills up my senses.” Mom, thanks for teaching me to be strong and vulnerable. Your support during this process will always be with me. My two wonderful sisters have also been sources of strength and encouragement. Andrea Nance and Alyssa Robinson, thanks for being my best friends—“To have a sister is to have a best friend for life”—and I got two (and now a nephew, named after our father, to boot!). In all seriousness though, you two are such great gals and I beam in pride over your accomplishments, and cry with you during the hard times. I love you both. vii I have large extended families. To my aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmother, and my grandfather who have encouraged me through the years, I appreciate it. Also, grandma “Pat” Carlton, your strength despite pain is motivation for me to move forward on my worst of days. A huge thanks to grandma and grandpa Robinson, grandma Robinson, when I think of you I think of how you always had peaches, my favorite, ready for me when we visited. Rest in peace. And it’s quite an honor to be the first Ph.D. in the Robinson and Carlton families. I know some of you are convinced that I am a radical liberal, but you put up with me anyway. All my love. Bubba and Jan McKinzie, my in- “loves,” thanks for always showing me a good time. I love you and all the kindness you continue to show me. Ya’ll are great folks and your generosity is unmatched. To Cammie and Mike, thanks for putting me up and putting up with me! I love you both dearly. In addition, there’s Chevy—my husband, partner in life and crime, and cigar box guitar extraordinaire. We fell in love fast and got married on a snowy day in Arkansas (ahem, Missouri—Dad did make us go to the state line to sign the license. A stickler for rules, that one). Funny thing is, the older I get, the more I am convinced that soulmates are a “thing.” My sociological training tells me they are not, but truly, you “get” me in every way and despite every flaw. Your support during this process is inexplicable. Many days I feel as if I’ve given more to my work than I do to you—and yet, you are patient and understanding—most of the time. You are my biggest fan. When I found out that you tell your buddies about issues surrounding feminism, diversity, and inclusivity, it viii dawned on me that you were listening to my rants over the years, after all. Thanks for introducing me to politics and so many other life lessons. You have followed me around the country so I could fulfill my dreams, and just generally made my life better. Here’s to the next 13. These first 13 have been quite a trip—in every sense of the word. May we continue to grow together and teach each other new things. “Hearts and bones.” A woman named Lori Holyfield came into my life in 2009 and I remain forever changed. Her guiding hand, advice, encouragement can be seen in the pages of my life and my academic journey. I was a terrible writer when I started graduate school and Lori saw a diamond in the rough. I can’t say enough thanks for believing in me and taking me under your wing. Your throaty laugh and voice will always fill a room—your presence is contagious. Maggie Cobb, babes, we did it. Over late night calls and beers, conference reunions, trips to Tampa, trips to Athens, we found a way to nurture the kernel of friendship that began the very day I met you, and snag our PhDs.