Where did all these dumpsters come from?”

That was my first puzzled thought when I stepped out of Louis Armstrong International Airport and into New Orleans in 2008, three years after Hurricane Katrina inundated the city and FEMA tried to finish the job. In less than a year, industrial-sized dumpsters had popped up everywhere. Down this alley, along that road or in the middle of a vacant lot, dumpsters had become quite the lawn ornament in the devastated city.

I had been to New Orleans the year before to build with Habitat for Humanity, and that summer it looked like all the cliched similes people throw around: it had the feel of a war zone, the aftermath of a carpet bomb raid, a post-apocalyptic scene Dante would be proud to call his own.

There was trash everywhere, crumbling sidewalks, yellowy waterlines halfway up buildings, blocks upon blocks of rubble and the signature post-flood scene of one pristine house on a block full of decapitated foundations – the tell-tale sign of the one family in the neighborhood neurotic enough to purchase flood insurance.

But most shockingly, that first year, there was a conspicuous noise missing. One might expect the sound of pounding hammers, Bobcats rumbling about and sparks flying from welding equipment to fill the air after an event like Katrina. Yet the city appeared to be relatively anemic in its rebuilding despite, or because of, the seemingly insurmountable odds it faced.

In 2008, however, things were different, if ever so slightly. A hardly noticeable shift had taken place symbolized by those dumpsters. These oversized trash bins, oddly enough, stood for progress. They meant the beginnings of a mass cleaning effort. Finally.

Over the next few weeks you will hear a lot about New Orleans in the media. As the fifth year anniversary creeps up later this month, there will be numerous investigative pieces, op-eds, CNN specials and countless hours of back-patting as well as finger-wagging and wrist-slapping. Don’t get me wrong, all this journalistic attention is good, but a few weeks each year doesn’t get much of anything done.

Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath cost an estimated $100 billion in damages. Which means New Orleans needs all the help it can get. From housing solutions, to real educational opportunities, to economic growth, to a more robust emergency preparation system, to a more adept police department, the issues go on and on.

Just ask Liz McCartney, co-founder of the St. Bernard Project. Ms. McCartney’s organization has devoted itself to providing housing solutions for Katrina victims who lost their homes. In the past four years, the project has built 302 homes, and with the help of more than 25,000 volunteers, the organization is looking to provide for the 900 or so families still living in FEMA trailers.

Or ask Derrick Tabb. Mr. Tabb’s The Roots of Music program takes in children ages nine to 14 and provides free musical instruments and instruction to keep the spirit of music alive in jazz’s birthplace. The program’s aim is two-fold as it also keeps its kids off New Orleans’ most dangerous streets. His organization has become so successful there are rumors of an off-shoot school to incorporate his massive waitlist.

Fortunately, Ms. McCartney and Mr. Tabb are just two examples of many committed individuals. Charter schools have been founded, cheap housing alternatives have been thought up and many other ingenious solutions are being implemented every day.

Now, thanks to the BP oil spill, people’s hopes have been somewhat dampened, but New Orleans seems to be on the upswing. In a recent Kaiser Family Foundation Report, pollsters found that 74 percent of New Orleanians are “upbeat” and 67 percent say they have recovered from the storm .

And yet, 70 percent of the Crescent City’s inhabitants believe that America has forgotten about the struggle to recover from Hurricane Katrina.

Somehow, Americans need to realize that there is no government solution for New Orleans and that it’s committed people (mainly young people at that) that will return the city to its former majesty. People like Ms. McCartney and Mr. Tabb are the ones making real change in the Big Easy. These are individuals who have put their back, and some elbow grease, into finding workable solutions. They are passionate and energetic – two of the only prerequisites for quality service.

I’ve been to New Orleans three times since the storm, and each year it gets a little bit more of its luster back. Dumpsters have been replaced with pickup trucks hauling two-by-fours and buzz saws.

But each year I leave knowing there is more to be done. Now maybe New Orleans isn’t your calling – maybe it’s Biloxi, Miss.; Port-au-Prince, Haiti; or Trincomalee, Sri Lanka. Regardless of the destination, people are counting on young volunteers like you and me. If you can afford the time and cost of building a home, manning a phone line or staffing a health clinic, do it. It’s amazing what one week, one summer, or one year of committed work can do for a city, a community, a nation.