Those Who Shaped Me

One of my tasks the next few days is to pull together the long list of the ways Black farmers were discriminated against. I have found myself with a curious block to doing so. The list will be long. It will be torturous. It will be hard to put together. It is especially hard knowing that there are actually people out in the world who got away with treating people badly because of the color of their skin. Yes, the farmers have lost land, property, and livelihood, but those who did the ugly deeds of discrimination got away with it.  Accountability is one thing that must be instituted within the USDA and FSA. Senator Warren has written some things about that.

So, while organizing the files so as to begin to create that list, I ran across some notes that I jotted down from a phone call with a farmer on 2/15/99. I was at Abilene Christian University at the time.  As part of Black history month, I was going to speak in chapel about the plight of Black farmers with implications for students and faculty and staff now.

My instincts said, "Call Mr. Farmer and tell him what's up and ask for his advice." So I did. His sons were interviewed in the documentary, but will withhold his name for now.  We talked for several minutes. He was engaging, forthright, truthful, and encouraging. This man was 76 years of age at the time. He was a graduate of Tuskegee. His time was drawing to a close on this earth. He had prevailed in the administrative hearings with DOJ and USDA. He had paid a huge price for the battle. His health was declining significantly.

He said that he would like for the students to know that there is a struggle, that it is not over, that there are people in offices who are not giving Black farmers a fair shake unless someone is looking over their shoulder. He said that there were people in the Department of Justice who did not want to give.  He encouraged me to tell the students to "join the ranks," "not just in agriculture," that racism is a "part of America," "it's still here," and it's "gonna take everybody," and "young folks are needed."

So, I thanked him for his time and words of wisdom, not knowing that that would be the last time I would ever talk to him. I would talk to his sons some twenty years later, reminisce about that time, and see the home place and the land that he fought so valiantly to save.

The next day, I spoke to the students in the basketball arena at what was called "chapel." I knew from experience that I had a very few seconds to get their attention. I would never have that opportunity again. So, I told them about me, that I was unprepared for what I saw, felt, and heard when interviewing farmers who had been discriminated against. I quoted the farmer with whom I'd talked the day before. It may have been my imagination, but I could have heard a pin drop. The students were quiet, respectful, and engaged. Some talked to me afterwards.

This farmer was one who shaped my naive life. There are others who did the same. I assumed that we were beyond these sorts of things. We had laws, the Civil Rights Movement, leaders who gave their lives for the movement, for the right to vote, to sit anywhere on buses and trains, but little did I know that the law may be colorblind, but people are not.  I learned rather quickly that the county committee system is the best of democracy and the worst of democracy. At that level, we vote our prejudices. White farmers vote for white farmers. They do not vote for Black farmers.

So, as I prepare to create the list of acts of discrimination for the documentary, maybe writing this will help my writers' block. The information is there in those files.  Just write them down. Send them to Shoun.

Yes, I remember talking to Mr. Farmer that evening, February 2, 1999.

Yesterday, Another Pivotal Day

Yesterday was another day in my move toward recovery. I told my internal medicine specialist earlier this week that I was thankful that he was at the center of my treatment. He chuckled and said that he just gets the leftovers.  Since we started this insane medical journey, I seem to have accumulated quite a group of doctors. Want to know the list? It looks like this:  internal medicine, urological oncologist, hematologist, infectious disease specialist, cardiologist, and gastrointerologist, and then there is my urologist who started the whole thing.  It is dizzying to try to keep track of appointments and data, but thanks to the electronics of the EHR system and Charla, it works fairly well.

Yesterday was another pivotal day for a couple of reasons.  One, the cardiologist declared that my heart is healthy and free of disease, and that he'd send the report to the infectious disease specialist. That was a relief. Also, I had a nurse yesterday by the name of Jordan as I woke up from a heavy, sleep induced, over killed of lidocaine and propofol. For the first time ever, anesthesia was being shipped into my muscle and not the vein. That was miserable, but the nurse anesthetist quickly removed it and put it into the back of my hand.

Then, last night, several things came together. Following a good report and competent medical care, I was on the phone with a person from the DC area who reminded me of the notion of "Death by Zip Code." I had never heard of it, though I had heard of it.

It got me thinking once more. Charla and I live in a zip code. Our mail comes to us because of that number. People around us have the same zip code. It is a rather large area. I wonder who is likely to die inside my zip code. What about other zip codes? What about zip codes where the poor live, the under served, the least of these? Though we do not live in the wealthiest of zip codes around here, nevertheless, we are comfortable. I will learn more about death by zip code.

Being in the confines of a hospital continually reminds me of my privilege. In Dallas at UT Southwestern, most of the phlebotomists and techs are people of color. The nurses are a mixture of white and brown. The doctors likewise are a mixture of white and brown. All of them are the best of the best. Likewise at TMC, the doctors are competent.  My MD yesterday was from Pakistan or somewhere, most nurses were white, and one nurse was African American. Curious the differences, or so it seems between smaller town USA and medicine and big city USA and medicine.

At a time when Charla and I comfortable and are taken care of medically by the insurances that we have, congress and the president* are allegedly about to cut back on SNAP insuring that fewer children will have food to eat.  And, there are rumors that cuts to medicaid and medicare are coming. That is happening all against a tax bill that favored the rich and the powerful of our country while marginalizing children and the poor.

Those are going on while the president* is being impeached. We are in a mess. Yes, we are in a mess.

Some zip codes from what I have heard look like war zones.  Other zip codes are low SES and people struggle with all manner of things. They may have three jobs, but none have them covered with insurance. So, they ration their medications because they have to pay out of pocket.  Some do not get the medication they need so they will die.

Think I'm kidding?  Go to the podcast 1619 and listen to the fourth podcast, "How the Bad Blood Started," and listen to the story of Uncle Eddie.  Listen to her describe the events in the life and health of her favorite uncle.  Listen and weep.

We can do better America.  Yes, we can do better, but we cannot do so under the current level of thinking nor under the current administration.  This administration was built and paid for by the rich and the famous.  The Uncle Eddies of our lives will die.

May you, my reader, are an Uncle Eddie.  I hope not.  I pray not.

A Few Reflections on Summit #16 with BFAA

It has been well over a month since we all assembled at the Hilton Garden Inn in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina for BFAA's 16th National Black Land Loss Summit. After having attended several summits, it is always good to see old friends and to make new friends.  It has been my privilege to speak at several summits. The presentations have centered around the health and well-being of farmers and family members, a research project that I will return to someday soon. Thanks to Heather Hicks for her photography at this event. Here are also a few of her photos. 

Gary Grant, BFAA President, always presides quite ably, welcoming people and introducing speakers and generally keeping us on schedule. He is a legend in my book and in that of many others.

Omari Wilson, senior staff attorney with the North Carolina Association of Black Lawyers' Land Loss Prevention Project in Durham, spoke on the challenging topic of wills and trusts.  Without a doubt the USDA has been responsible for much land loss, but the absence of a will has also been a significant problem.

Lawrence Lucas, president emeritus of the USDA Coalition of Minority Employees was to have spoken on the panel with Lorette but due to a death in the family, he was unable to attend.  On Friday evening, Lawrence was presented with the "A Man Called Matthew Award," an award given on occasion to people who have made a significant contribution to Black farmers and the movement. Thanks to the wonders of technology, we were able to present the award to him via cyberspace and to congratulate him on this award and to thank him for his service.

Lorette Picciano, Executive Director of the RuralCoalition/Coalicion Rural, in Washington DC, and advocacy group that has been working for over 40 years to enhance opportunities for minority farmers. Lorette spoke on "Legal, Political, Legislative Issues Still Impacting Black Farmers." She is always inspiring with her massive knowledge of farm bills and all things congressional.

Shoun Hill and I presented the first half of the documentary and led a discussion around the title of the documentary: "I'm Just a Layman in Pursuit of Justice: The Story of 15 Davids versus Goliath." This documentary was well received. The conversation about the effort was lively and informative. Fifteen farmers fought and prevailed administratively with the USDA and DOJ between 1997 and 1999. These are heroes and legends in my opinion. Without their sacrifices there would have been no Black Farmer Movement.

On Saturday, two speakers addressed "Creative Farming and Urban Gardening." Robert Jones provided useful and interesting information as to how to farm and to well on 17 acres of land. His niche farming effort was amazing and his use of visual aids and his power point showed that he is a teacher and a farmer. Jason Lindsey of Oxford, NC, a member of the Southeast African American Farming Organic Network, spoke on the challenges and opportunities of both organic farming and its advantages and that of teaching and bringing along the next generation of Black farmers.

Nathan Rosenberg and Bryce Stucki, an attorney and a statistician, spoke on the topic of "How the USDA Distorted Data to Conceal Decades of Discrimination Against Black Farmers." Speaking with more detail than allowed in their recent national publication in "New Food Economy," both provided the landscape, stories, statistics, and charts that illustrated how easy it was under Secretary Vilsac, Agriculture Secretary under President Obama, to distort the data to make things look better for Black farmers when things were actually continuing to deteriorate for farmers.

After Shoun and I showed the second half of the documentary and discussed it with the attendees, Michael Stewart, Jr., faculty member at Howard University, spoke on the topic of "What's Next?" His inspiring presentation, full of stories, challenges, and opportunities was more than interesting.  He was able to pull into the presentation information from his doctoral dissertation on the Black Farmer Movement as a movement. His perspective and our connected at several points including the fact that the 15 farmers were pivotal to the beginning of the movement.

Here are some of the folks who helped with details of the workshop.  These include the Board and other key persons.