resilience

Former Clipper Rodney Rogers died Friday of natural causes linked to a spinal cord injury he sustained in a 2008 dirt bike accident. He was 54.

Wake Forest, which retired his No. 54, announced his death Saturday along with the National Basketball Players Assn., which released a statement on behalf of Rogers’ family.

Rogers was the Atlantic Coast Conference rookie of the year in 1991 and player of the year in 1993. The burly 6-foot-7 forward with powerful athleticism earned the “Durham Bull” nickname during his prep career, then was drafted ninth overall in 1993. He played 12 years in the NBA, scoring nearly 9,500 points and being named league sixth man of the year in 2000.

Rogers had been paralyzed from the shoulders down since his accident in November 2008.

“The last 17 years have been both challenging and profoundly blessed,” the NBPA statement said. “Through every moment, Rodney remained a light — positive, motivated, and full of the quiet strength that inspired everyone around him.”

Rogers’ injury led to the establishment of a foundation bearing his name, with Rogers encouraging people with spinal cord injuries while promoting resilience and personal growth in the face of those challenges. Wake Forest honored him with its Distinguished Alumni Award in 2022 along with an honorary degree.

Clippers forward Rodney Rogers has a few words for referee Leon Wood after getting called for a foul during a game in 1997.

(Al Seib / Los Angeles Times)

“Rodney is the strongest person I have ever met — physically and mentally — and his resilience was evident in the fight he showed every single day,” program great and former teammate Randolph Childress said in a statement. “I’ve said this before and I still mean it today: He was the best athlete ever to walk onto Wake Forest’s campus. He meant so much to so many people, and I feel profoundly blessed to have been with him yesterday.”

Rogers played three years at Wake Forest, averaging 21.2 points in 1992-93 as the Demon Deacons reached the NCAA tournament’s Sweet 16, before entering the draft as a junior. He started his NBA career with the Denver Nuggets before being traded to the Clippers in 1995 along with the draft rights to Brent Barry for the draft rights to Antonio McDyess and Randy Woods. Rogers averaged 12.3 points, 4.8 rebounds and 2.5 assists in four seasons in L.A. before becoming a valuable reserve with the Phoenix Suns. He also played for the Boston Celtics, New Jersey Nets, New Orleans Hornets and Philadelphia 76ers.

“It’s easy to focus on his extraordinary talent, but what stood out to everyone who knew him was that he was every bit as remarkable as a human being,” said Dave Odom, Rogers’ coach at Wake Forest. “He loved his teammates, he loved his family, he loved Wake Forest and he loved the game of basketball. He loved playing for Wake Forest.

“Every time we visited him, I walked away reminding myself never to complain — because he never did. He faced life exactly as it came and made the very best of every moment. He was a joy to watch as a basketball player, but he was an even greater man. He shared his strength, his spirit and his life with everyone around him.”

According to the NBPA statement, Rogers is survived by wife, Faye; daughters Roddreka and Rydiah; sons Rodney II and Devonte; his mother, Estelle Spencer; and Eric Hipilito, embraced as a son by Rogers.

In the quiet of his Ramallah studio in the occupied West Bank, Palestinian artist Nabil Anani works diligently on artworks deeply rooted in a movement he helped create during the political tumult of the late 1980s.

Cofounded in 1987 by Anani and fellow artists Sliman Mansour, Vera Tamari and Tayseer Barakat, the New Visions art movement focused on using local natural materials while eschewing Israeli supplies as a form of cultural resistance. The movement prioritised self-sufficiency at a time of deep political upheaval across occupied Palestine.

“[New Visions] emerged as a response to the conditions of the Intifada,” Anani said. “Ideas like boycott and self-reliance inspired a shift in our artistic practice at the time.”

Each of the founding members chose to work with a specific material, developing new artistic styles that fit the spirit of the time. The idea caught on, and many exhibitions followed locally, regionally and internationally.

Nearly four decades later, the principles of New Visions – self-sufficiency, resistance and creation despite scarcity – continue to shape a new generation of Palestinian artists for whom making art is both an expression and an act of survival.

Anani, now 82, and the other founding members are helping keep the movement’s legacy alive.

Why ‘New Visions’?

“We called it New Visions because, at its core, the movement embraced experimentation, especially through the use of local materials,” Anani said, noting how he had discovered the richness of sheepskins, their textures and tones and began integrating them into his art in evocative ways.

In 2002, Tamari, now 80, started planting ceramic olive trees for every real one an Israeli settler burned down to form a sculptural installation called Tale of a Tree. Later, she layered watercolours over ceramic pieces, mediums that usually do not mix, defying the usual limits of each material, and melded in elements of family photos, local landscapes and politics.

Sixty-six-year-old Barakat, meanwhile, created his own pigments and then began burning forms into wood, transforming surface damage into a visual language.

“Other artists began to embrace earth, leather, natural dyes – even the brokenness of materials as part of the story,” Mansour, 78, said, adding that he had personally reached a kind of “dead end” with his work before the New Visions movement emerged, spending years creating works centred around national symbols and identity that had started to feel repetitive.

“This was different. I remember being anxious at first, worried about the cracks in the clay I was using,” he said, referring to his use of mud. “But, in time, I saw the symbolism in those cracks. They carried something honest and powerful.”

In 2006, the group helped create the International Academy of Art Palestine in Ramallah, which was open for 10 years before being integrated into Birzeit University as the Faculty of Art, Music and Design. The academy’s main goal was to help artists transition from older ways of thinking to more contemporary approaches, particularly by using local and diverse materials.

“A new generation emerged from this, raised on these ideas, and went on to hold numerous exhibitions, both locally and internationally, all influenced by the New Visions movement,” Anani said.

A legacy maintained but tested

The work of Lara Salous, a 36-year-old Palestinian artist and designer based in Ramallah, echoes the founding principles of the movement.

“I am inspired by [the movement’s] collective mission. My insistence on using local materials comes from my belief that we must liberate and decolonise our economy.”

“We need to rely on our natural resources and production, go back to the land, boycott Israeli products and support our local industries,” Salous said.

Through Woolwoman, her social enterprise, Salous works with local materials and a community of shepherds, wool weavers and carpenters to create contemporary furniture, like wool and loom chairs, inspired by ancient Bedouin techniques.

But challenges like the increasing number of roadblocks and escalating settler violence against Palestinian Bedouin communities, who rely on sheep grazing as a basic source of income, have made working and living as an artist in the West Bank increasingly difficult.

“I collaborate with shepherds and women who spin wool in al-Auja and Masafer Yatta,” said Salous, referring to two rural West Bank areas facing intense pressure from occupation and settlement expansion.

“These communities face daily confrontations with Israeli settlers who often target their sheep, prevent grazing, cut off water sources like the al-Auja Spring, demolish wells and even steal livestock,” she added.

In July, the Reuters news agency reported an incident in the West Bank’s Jordan Valley, where settlers killed 117 sheep and stole hundreds of others in an overnight attack on one such community.

Such danger leaves Palestinian women who depend on Woolwoman for their livelihoods vulnerable. Several female weavers working with Salous and supporting her enterprise have become their families’ sole breadwinners, especially after their spouses lost jobs due to Israeli work permit bans following the Hamas-led attacks on southern Israel on October 7, 2023, and the start of the Gaza war.

Visiting the communities where these wool suppliers live has become nearly impossible for Salous, who fears attacks by Israeli settlers.

Meanwhile, her collaborators must often prioritise their own safety and the protection of their villages, which disrupts their ability to produce wool to sustain their livelihoods.

As a result, the designer has faced delays and supply chain issues, making completing and selling her works increasingly difficult.

Anani faces similar challenges in procuring hides.

“Even in cities like Ramallah or Bethlehem, where the situation might be slightly more stable, there are serious difficulties, especially in accessing materials and moving around,” he said.

“I work with sheepskin, but getting it from Hebron is extremely difficult due to roadblocks and movement restrictions.”

Creating vs surviving

In Gaza, Hussein al-Jerjawi, an 18-year-old artist from the Remal neighbourhood of Gaza City, is also inspired by the New Visions movement’s legacy and meaning, noting that Mansour’s “style in expressing the [conditions of the occupation]” has inspired him.

Due to a lack of materials like canvases, which are scarce and expensive, al-Jerjawi has repurposed flour bags distributed by the United Nations agency for Palestinian refugees (UNRWA) as canvases for creating his artwork, using wall paint or simple pens and pencils to create portraits of the world around him.

In July, however, the artist said flour bags were no longer available due to Israel’s blockade of food and aid into the Gaza Strip.

“There are no flour bags in Gaza, but I’m still considering buying empty bags to complete my drawings,” he said.

Gaza-born artist Hazem Harb, who now lives in Dubai, also credits the New Visions movement as a constant source of inspiration throughout his decades-long career.

“The New Visions movement encourages artists to push boundaries and challenge conventional forms, and I strive to embody this spirit in my work,” he said while noting that it has been challenging to source the materials from Gaza that he needs for his work.

“The ongoing occupation often disrupts supply chains, making it difficult to obtain the necessary materials for my work. I often relied on local resources and found objects, creatively repurposing materials to convey my message.”

Anani, who said the conditions in Gaza make it nearly impossible to access local material, added that many artists are struggling but still strive to make art with whatever they can.

“I believe artists [in Gaza] are using whatever’s available – burned objects, sand, basic things from their environment,” Anani said.

“Still, they are continuing to create in simple ways that reflect this harsh moment.”

In an era of escalating climate disasters, the ability to translate data into life-saving action has never been more critical. For the Asia-Pacific region—the world’s most disaster-prone, this is not an abstract challenge but a daily reality. At the forefront of this battle is the United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific (ESCAP), which is leveraging artificial intelligence to close the gap between risk knowledge and on-the-ground resilience. In this exclusive Q&A, Kareff May Rafisura, Economic Affairs Officer at the ICT and Disaster Risk Reduction Division of ESCAP, provides a clear-eyed look at their innovative tool, SatGPT, and how it’s changing the game for communities from the remote village to the ministerial office.

1. It’s one thing to see a flood risk map, and another to break ground on a new levee. Could you walk us through how a local official might use SatGPT to confidently decide where to actually build?

Kareff May Rafisura, Economic Affairs Officer at the ICT and Disaster Risk Reduction Division of ESCAP: First, it’s worth noting that there’s growing rethinking within the science and policy communities on the long-term benefits and trade-offs of constructing artificial levees.

Going back to your question, understanding an area’s flood history is key to making smart infrastructure decisions. You wouldn’t build a levee on natural floodplains, for example. Without risk knowledge, levees might not protect communities effectively and could even cause problems downstream or in ecologically sensitive areas. SatGPT offers a rapid mapping service that helps local officials make risk-informed decisions. It significantly reduces the time and cost traditionally required to assess flood characteristics, such as frequency, spatial extent, and impacts, and converts that data into actionable information. This information is critical for decisionmakers who must weigh it alongside economic, social, and environmental considerations when determining whether, and where, to build a levee.

2. We often hear about getting tech “to the last mile.” Picture a rural community leader with a simple smartphone. How does SatGPT’s insight practically reach and help them make a life-saving decision?

Kareff: SatGPT’s strength lies in enhancing historical risk knowledge. It’s not designed to predict the next disaster, but rather to help communities prepare more effectively for it. For instance, when a rural leader needs to decide whether to evacuate ahead of a flood, she will still rely on early warnings from national meteorological services. What SatGPT can do is support smarter ex-ante planning—so that when early warning information arrives, the community is ready to respond quickly. This includes decisions on where to build shelters, how to lay out evacuation routes, and where to preposition relief supplies. These are all critical elements that must be in place to help avert disasters, as consistently demonstrated in the cyclone response histories of India and Bangladesh.

3. Floods are an urgent threat, but what about slower crises like droughts? Is the vision for SatGPT to eventually help with these less visible, but equally devastating, disasters?

Kareff: ESCAP coordinates the long-standing Regional Drought Mechanism, which has been supporting drought-prone countries in gaining access to satellite data, products, tools, and technical expertise—everything they need to conduct drought monitoring and impact assessments more effectively. Our support goes beyond making data available—we work with countries and partners to strengthen institutions and capacities, converting these data into actionable analytics and insights. We are currently working with three Central Asian countries in establishing their own Earth observation-based agricultural drought monitoring systems.

4. AI is powerful, but it can sometimes reflect our own blind spots. How are you ensuring SatGPT doesn’t accidentally worsen inequality by overlooking the most vulnerable communities in its models?

Kareff: You raised a valid concern. That’s why in our capacity development work, our participants combine SatGPT’s flood mapping with socio-economic data to pinpoint who’s most at risk and where. They work on use cases that unpack the exposure of essential services like hospitals and water treatment facilities. When these critical infrastructures fail, it’s the poorest who pay the highest price. That’s why it’s vital to understand the hazards that threaten them.

5. Governments have tight budgets. If you were making the pitch to a Finance Minister, what’s the most compelling argument for investing in SatGPT now versus spending on recovery later?

Kareff: Investing in reducing disaster risk – which involves measures taken before disasters occur to reduce vulnerability and enhance resilience (e.g., early warning systems, resilient infrastructure, land-use planning) – is far more cost-effective than recovery. Every dollar invested in disaster risk reduction can save multiple dollars in future losses. While the benefits are context-specific, a recent multi-country study found that for every $1 invested, the return can be as high as $10.50.

6. The region is innovating fast, with countries like Indonesia and Thailand building their own systems. How does SatGPT aim to be a good teammate and connect with these national efforts, rather than just adding another tool to the pile?

Kareff: That’s a good point. And beyond technological innovation, we’re also seeing progress in policy and institutional innovations being put in place. Our intention is not to replace national systems, but to show what’s possible when you make risk knowledge accessible and actionable. We work closely with our national counterparts with a focus on integrating SatGPT insights into existing workflows and systems-not reinventing them.

7. Training young professionals is key. Beyond the technical skills, what’s the most important lesson you hope they take away about using this technology responsibly?

Kareff: I’m glad you recognize that today’s most pressing need goes beyond technical expertise. That’s precisely why our technical capacity-building activities are held alongside youth forums to provide a platform for young people to engage in meaningful conversations around values and motivations. As stakeholders, we all share the responsibility of upholding safe, secure, and trustworthy artificial intelligence systems to support sustainable development.

8. Looking ahead a year, what would a “win” for SatGPT look like on the ground? Is it a specific number of communities better protected, or a faster warning time?

Kareff: Forecasting and enhancing the forecast lead times remains the responsibility of mandated early warning agencies. SatGPT is well-positioned to support efforts to protect more communities. By enhancing the historical understanding of floods, it can help improve the accuracy of early warning information, help communities proactively plan their response, and reduce disaster risk ex-ante. In that sense, I would say that effective SatGPT roll-out would amount to both gains in space and time – more communities being warned with improved lead times for mitigative response with more reliable historical data for granular risk characterization.

9. The document mentions turning the Jakarta Declaration into action. From your vantage point, what’s the biggest spark of progress you’ve seen so far?

Kareff: One of the most promising sparks of progress has been the strengthened regional cooperation aimed at enhancing the capacity of countries—especially the countries in special situations—to overcome barriers to accessing the benefits of innovative geospatial applications. With the support of ESCAP members, we are implementing field projects, providing capacity-building and technical assistance, facilitating expert exchange, and knowledge sharing across more than a dozen countries. These efforts are helping to develop space-based solutions from the ground up to tackle sustainable development challenges such as urban poverty, air pollution, droughts, floods, and crop biodiversity loss.

10. Finally, behind all the data and code, you mention this is about protecting lives. Has working on SatGPT given you a new perspective on what “resilience” truly means for a family facing a flood?

Kareff: Having lived and worked for the United Nations in some of the world’s most flood-prone countries, I’ve witnessed first-hand how the lack of historical data can lead to underinvestment in risk reduction. Tools like SatGPT and other digital innovations are not silver bullets, but they help close this gap by converting geospatial data into actionable insights – quickly and more accessibly – to guide communities to prepare and protect lives and livelihoods.

The conversation with Kareff May Rafisura underscores a pivotal shift in disaster risk management: from reactive recovery to intelligent, data-driven preparedness. SatGPT represents more than a technological achievement; it is a practical instrument of empowerment, ensuring that from the finance minister to the rural community leader, the best available knowledge informs the decisions that save lives and safeguard futures. In the fragile balance between human vulnerability and environmental force, such tools are not just helpful, they are essential. The future of resilience in the Asia-Pacific is being written today, not in the aftermath of disaster, but in the proactive, thoughtful application of innovation like SatGPT.