I Was Not Prepared

As some of you may know, one of my assignments is that of keeping the gofundme page that chronicles the stories and challenges of Eddie and Dorothy Wise up and running. You can find that link here for more information about this worthy cause:  https://www.gofundme.com/39m8623g. It is called "The USDA Did It Again" purposefully.

The curious thing for me is that I have known their stories for a long time.  In my files I can find their documents.  In the article that Edward Robinson and I wrote in 2008 in the Journal of African Studies, "We Didn't Get Nothing:" The Plight of Black Farmers, their story is documented on page 293. The paragraph is compelling. Their current circumstances are compelling and burden my soul.

Here is that paragraph:

Three stories illustrate the common struggles of the black farmer. First, the litany

of acts of discrimination perpetrated against Eddie Wise and Dorothy Monroe-Wise,

residents of North Carolina, included the failure to provide loan applications when

requested, technical support and assistance in the application process, submission of

applications in a timely fashion, information and assistance relative to guaranteed

loan opportunities, and timely processing of loan applications. The USDA denied

loan applications purposefully, and retaliatory actions were taken by the county

supervisor. Options for socially disadvantaged farmers in keeping with USDA policy

were not offered. The USDA failed to investigate the county supervisor. The couple

experienced loss of land, credit, mental and physical health, and public humiliation

(Wise v Glickman 2000).

 

Some are often curious about my involvement with African American farmers and my affiliation with BFAA. The stories of farmers like Eddie and Dorothy provide the why.

It is a long and convoluted story, but I'd like to share it though in brief segments.

It was a Friday afternoon in Abilene, Texas, somewhere back in 1994 or so.  The phone rang. I answered it.  My good friend and colleague, Dr. Tom Milholland, had given the attorney my name and number. He asked what I did and how I did it.  I explained the nature of clinical interviews, psychological examinations, report-writing, and fee structures and all, at least as I was doing them in my private practice.

At some point in the conversation, this attorney, whom I had not yet ascertained as to whether he was black or white or exactly what his affiliation was said to me in a rather aristocratic voice, as I recall, "Dr. Hinson, I think I have failed to communicate to you the seriousness of our concerns."

"Well, ok, then, share with me the seriousness of your concerns." And he did.  He began to open my eyes up to the plight of the black farmer and what the struggles were all about.

Some farmers came to see me and others I went to see in their homes and communities.

I was not prepared.  I simply was NOT PREPARED for what I saw, heard, felt, and experienced.  Of course not.  I was a white professor, marriage and family therapist, psychologist, living in white America, working at a predominantly white university, in a predominantly white town.

I was not prepared.