Moments of great darkness: Children at the mercy of Maria

David Abramson, a disaster scientist at New York University’s College of Global Public Health, identified four types of capital people can access during disaster recovery: economic, political, human, and social.

“In Puerto Rico, they don't have the economic capital; they barely have the political capital. So they only can rely upon the human and social capital, which they do tremendously,” Abramson said. “It's very inspiring when you see that.”

“As incredible as it is, it's also frustrating, because they need the other two. They need some of the economic and political capital in addition to whatever human and social capital they have.”

Not every child in Puerto Rico has the built-in social capital of a family and community for support. More than 2,000 children on the island are in the care of the government, according to the Annie E. Casey Foundation’s data.

Abramson described Puerto Rico’s child-serving institutions as “not at all” prepared for a major disaster, but said “they are doing what they can. And they're making the best of what they've got.”

In Bayamón, Damara González directs Hogar Fatima, a shelter for girls 11 to 18 who have been placed there by the Department of Family Affairs.

When Maria struck, 18 girls were living in the house. Staff moved all the girls into one room, where, González said, they treated the storm like a “pajama party.” But the party wore thin, as they had to make do without power and phone service.

“When the hurricane happened, we determined that it was best to expose them little by little to what the reality was in Puerto Rico. We started by talking a little about it, then exposing them to what was reported in the newspapers,” González said. “Then they started to get worried about their families.”

Many of the girls – some victims of family violence – had siblings in other shelters, as well as parents and grandparents all over Puerto Rico who they worried about.

“Having no phones, communication with the Department of Family was not happening,” González said. “There was a lot of worrying over their siblings, then others would ask for their grandmother or their mom. The process of contacting them was very difficult.”

The stress of those days weighed on both children and staff. One of the shelter’s strategies for helping the girls was keeping them informed and involved.

González said she no longer hears the girls talking about Maria.

“The response of the girls during and after the hurricane made me very proud of them,” she said.

Omar Charriez, 22, lives in a companion shelter for boys, Forjadores de Esperanza (Forgers of Hope). He has been there nine years.

“It’s been a beautiful experience,” Charriez said. “It’s been another family for me.”

Because Charriez is older, he took on a partial caregiver role during Hurricane Maria.

“Some of the children who were with me were hysterical; others were living the moment,” he said. “A lot of emotions were going around.”

The boys’ shelter took significantly more damage than the girls’, losing its roof and some of the boys’ belongings. But the boys were determined to stay together.

“The kids were worried about what was going to happen to this shelter, if they were going to close it,” Charriez said. “But thanks to God, little by little, we rebuilt the shelter.”

Charriez said volunteers counseled the boys on how to handle their emotions.

“God is in control of everything, and if it had to happen, well it happened, and that’s it,” Charriez said. “It happened and everything went back to normal, and we’re OK, which is the important thing.”

For Jesús Colón, everything did not go back to normal. After five schools closed in his neighborhood, getting an education became difficult.

“As a parent, it was really hard,” said his mother, Karyleen Amaro. “We would have to wake up at 4 a.m., drive up to the bus stop and wait for him to be picked up. It didn’t make sense.”

The Department of Education closed about 300 schools in April 2018, forcing many children to make hours-long commutes to get to school. The former Secretary of Education, Julia Keleher, is under investigation for fraud and money laundering. Among other things, she is accused of closing schools after Maria for her own profit.

“Something that we know from past disasters is that it's important for communities to have schools reopen so kids are in familiar places,” Fothergill said. “It's such a tough one in Puerto Rico, because so many people left and didn't come back, and because of the lack of resources for the schools.

“It's really troubling to think about communities that have lost their schools right when they needed them.”

Jesús Colón didn’t want to move to Florida, but his determination has driven him to make the best of the situation.

“I have a future ahead,'' he said. “I have to learn, I have to study, I have to keep moving forward.”

Even when children move on, though, they often hide their emotional and mental health issues.

“People think that kids are extremely resilient,” Fothergill said. But data have shown that “sometimes kids don't tell their parents exactly how stressed they might be because they already see that their parent is really stressed.”

Calila Figueroa, 14, sheltered at her grandmother’s house during Hurricane Maria.

“You see your role models in such a panic state,” Calila said. “You can't think of what's going to happen if they're scared; I’m supposed to be scared.”

When the storm was over, she said, “I started drawing, because art has always been a way to escape. I didn't want to talk about it, I wanted to put it off. So I just drew and drew and drew.”

Calila didn’t keep many of the drawings and paintings she made after Maria because “some were just too sad,” she said. “I didn’t want to remember all of the sad times, I wanted to remember the times that I felt strong, and that there was actually hope.”

She designed a dress inspired by a flamboyán tree whose vibrant orange flowers somehow survived the storm. The dress, which she calls “a flamboyán dancing in the window,” was worn by a contestant in this year’s Miss Universe Puerto Rico competition.

“I look around and I see my friends, I see my neighbors, and I see the news that some people had it worse than me. And I say … stop your crying, go do something good,” she said.

Ángel Morales recently graduated from high school and plans to study video game design. He’s thinking of joining the Army. He and his family had lived on the mainland for 14 years before returning to Puerto Rico in 2014 to keep his father’s childhood home from being sold.

All that’s left of that house are four walls surrounding piles of debris, with wood beams and a blue tarp. There is no roof and power has been cut off because they couldn’t pay the bill. They get electricity from a neighbor.

His family now sells kebabs on the weekends to raise money for building materials. Most of what they’ve earned so far has gone toward paying down overdue electric bills.

Although Morales lives amid the wreckage of the hurricane, he said he doesn’t let himself think about it much.

“To control my emotions is to think positive and not think about what is going on and what happened before,” he said.

Fothergill said it’s too early to know the long-term consequences of the disaster two years ago, though experts have learned from past disasters what steps need to be taken before a storm.

“Everyone in every school should know, what are the kids going to need afterwards?” Fothergill said. “They're going to need peer support, they're going to need optional therapy if they want it, we're going to need extra social workers.”

For Jesús Colón, Hurricane Maria is a faint memory sometimes triggered by thunder.

“Sometimes when thunder crashes loudly, it reminds me of it,” he said. “It makes me uncomfortable to talk about it. It’s a topic that reminds me of moments of great darkness.”

News21 reporters Molly Duerig and Stacy Fernández contributed to this story.

Priscilla Malavet is a Knight Foundation Fellow. Sophie Grosserode is a John and Patty Williams Fellow. Ellen O’Brien is an Ethics and Excellence in Journalism Foundation Fellow. Molly Duerig is a Hearst Foundation Fellow.