Wed, Sep. 03

New Orleans is one of the most vulnerable cities in America—and one of the most prepared.

It’s a paradox that locals live every day. A city battered by hurricanes, soaked by rising seas, stitched together by faith, music, and second lines. Every time the levees are tested, so is the city’s will. And every time it rebuilds, it does so with style, soul—and increasingly, science.

But here’s the truth no one likes to say out loud: resilience is exhausting when you're under-resourced. You can only gut so many homes, train so many volunteers, and patch so many systems before the next wave hits.

New Orleans needed something different—not just to recover, but to innovate under pressure. They didn’t want another pop-up solution. They wanted a permanent infrastructure for climate adaptation. A space where ideas could be tested before the next storm, not after.

That’s where the Resilience Innovation Labs came in.
And where I—Mr. Grant Money—got called into the bayou with a battle plan.

🌊 Why “Bounce Back” Wasn’t Enough Anymore

By the time I arrived in the city, it was late July. Humid. Heavy. One of those days where the rain falls sideways and the power grid groans like an old trombone.

This was the backdrop for a problem that had been brewing for years: a resilience sector in overdrive, and a city infrastructure on its last nerve.

• Drainage systems were overcapacity

• Public buildings were still flood-vulnerable

• Community networks did heroic work—but relied on fragile funding and short-term grants

• Residents were innovating—solar batteries, rain gardens, mutual aid networks—but doing it alone

The moment called for something bold. Not a task force. Not another report.
But a citywide platform to support climate and community innovators—from the ground up.

⚡ The Dreamers Who Refused to Wait

The spark started with Katrina Jones, a systems engineer turned nonprofit leader who’d lost her home in 2005 and returned with a mission: build the resilience economy from within.

She launched a pilot through her org, Bayou Futures, linking youth apprenticeships, water management, and climate tech. The demand exploded. Partners came knocking—Tulane, the city’s Office of Resilience, solar startups, Gulf Coast universities.

Joining her were:

• Rev. Ellis Mouton, who donated his church basement for the first lab

• Dr. Nyla Carver, Tulane professor leading research on flood sensors and heat-mapping

• A team of block captains, youth leaders, and grassroots innovators trying to turn survival into strategy

They envisioned Resilience Innovation Labs—a network of five neighborhood-based hubs that would:

• Pilot green infrastructure solutions

• Host training programs and youth co-design labs

• Create solar-powered storm shelters and innovation zones

They didn’t want a grant. They wanted a revolution.

🎯 Finding the Right Funding Formula

When Katrina called, she didn’t sugarcoat it:

“We’re tired of duct-taping solutions. We need something that sticks. You’re the guy who turns dreams into durable money—so what do we do?”

I walked the neighborhoods. Saw the rain gardens built by 10th graders. Visited a makeshift microgrid in a community center, powered by passion and borrowed parts.

Then I mapped the funding strategy around three pillars:

1. 🏛 Capital Investment for Resilient Infrastructure

• FEMA BRIC (Building Resilient Infrastructure and Communities)

• HUD’s Community Resilience Partnerships for place-based co-design and employment

2. 🚀 Innovation & Workforce

• NSF Civic Innovation Challenge for the co-design lab framework

• DOE Connected Communities Initiative for microgrid pilots and data systems

3. 🌱 Local Match & Long-Term Sustainability

• State climate and resilience funds

• University partnerships (Tulane, Xavier)

• In-kind match from a regional utility and workforce board

I told them:

“This isn’t just a climate project. It’s a resilience R&D engine. We’re not asking for a handout—we’re offering a model.”

🧵 How We Told the Story

The application was not a sterile stack of stats. It was a living document.

We opened with the paradox:

“In New Orleans, resilience isn’t a plan. It’s a reflex. But if we don’t fund the innovators already building the future, we’ll keep bouncing back instead of moving forward.”

Then we highlighted:

• 5 hubs, each in a different climate-vulnerable neighborhood

• Projected reach: 65,000 residents, 400 local jobs over three years

• Pilots: green infrastructure, heat mitigation, solar backup, sensor tech

And we centered voices:

• A youth apprentice who realized “I can rebuild the system—not just survive it”

• A grandparent who said the labs were “the first place I’ve felt safe during a storm”

• A block captain: “Every time we innovate, we get called scrappy. I want to be called a scientist.”

We told funders this wasn’t charity. It was strategy with soul.

💥 From Idea to Infrastructure

Six months later, approvals rolled in like a second line parade:

• ✅ $4.2M from FEMA BRIC

• ✅ $1.3M from NSF Civic Innovation

• ✅ $2M from DOE & HUD

• ✅ $1.1M local match from universities, utilities, and labor

The first lab launched in Central City, inside a converted school. Solar panels on the roof. Rainwater tanks on the wall. Inside: 3D printers, flood modeling tools, and a shared cooling and tech hub open year-round.

By the end of Year One:

• 3 labs were live

• 170+ paid apprentices trained

• One microgrid pilot saved a neighborhood $38,000 during a blackout

• And during the next storm, two labs stayed open, powered, and safe

One teen called it:

“A science lab that knows what it’s like to lose power.”

That’s the future I signed up to fund.

🔑 What New Orleans Taught Me (Again)

I’ve worked on fires, floods, and everything in between. But this one?

It hit home.

1. Resilience is not a buzzword. It’s a battleground.
   If we don’t fund grassroots innovation, we’re funding future disasters.

2. Infrastructure is emotional.
   When labs, hubs, and microgrids are built by and for the people, they heal more than buildings.

3. Don’t just pitch impact—pitch memory.
   Data matters. But stories of lived experience make funders move. Just ask Ms. Lena in Fresno.

4. The next climate breakthrough might be in a basement right now—or a sketchbook, or a classroom.

🌀 Who’s Building Resilience Where You Live?

Maybe your city hasn’t had a Katrina.
Maybe your block hasn’t flooded—yet.

But everyone lives in a climate zone now.

The real question:
Who’s building the labs, the networks, and the resilient minds to meet the storm?

You bring the passion. I’ll bring the playbook.

Let’s futureproof the future—one block, one blueprint, one lab at a time.

— Mr. Grant Money

🛍 Explore More

• See more wins at the Mr. Grant Money Blog

• Equip your vision with tools from the Mr. Grant Money Store

• Soundtrack your journey at Mr. Grant Money Music

💬 Discussion Questions

• How does your community define resilience—bouncing back, or building forward?

• What would a local resilience lab look like in your city? Who should lead it?

• What grassroots innovations deserve formal support in the climate space?

• Have you seen or joined a small-scale solution with big potential? What’s holding it back?

• How can we fund climate infrastructure that centers frontline communities—not just the most prepared?