This morning my wife and I do what we normally do on Sunday mornings at our house. We worship online with our church family here in Denison, then we listened in on our old church home in Ada, OK, and then we enjoyed the worshipful music from The Hills Church in Ft. Worth, and then wrapped it up with an old, old church of ours, the Highland Church in Memphis, TN. We don't always do that much worship time with other churches, but we did today and it was rich.
Why am I sharing this with you? Here's why. I found myself terribly preoccupied with what is going on in the world, brutality, injustices of all sorts, BLM movement and who loves it and who despises it, and other things. I was especially burdened by what is happening on the political scene. Our current president does not have a civil rights plan, and he does not have a workable plan for farmers, nothing for small family farms of our land and especially nothing for Black farmers of our land. We have hope with what can happen with the Biden/Harris presidency. They have a plan, though some of us working in a couple of different areas find the plan woefully lacking.
Woefully lacking is an understatement. That is why we wrote the "Open Letter to Vice President Joe Biden," and we are pleased that Politico picked it up and that one member of congress has picked up on it. We hope for more. That is why there are several projects going on, a book soon to be released that talks about land loss, a documentary that tells the stories of mistreatment of Black farmers by the USDA, and another expose of larger matters after the election.
That still is not the point of this post.
There was an emotional collision this morning as on the one hand I was preoccupied with the politics of the day around civil rights and Black farmers on the one hand and on the other hand I was trying to worship with Christian sisters and brothers in our region. The two collided as they often collide.
The collision is something like, Waymon, why do you do these things. I have never known you to be a political sort of guy. Well, the truth of the matter is that I have typically had the philosophy that I don't have to be in charge, but if nobody is, I'll take the reins. So, from high school to college to graduate school to work on various campuses and now to the Black farmer movement, I have maintained a "political" stance. Politics, after all, is what happens when more than one person is in the same space. But now, I am not in charge of anything. I am trying to be a good ally and to create space where stories of Black farmers can be told with all of their truthfulness.
While the Black farmer movement is a deeply political movement with its roots in racism that go back to the very start of this country all the way up through the antebellum south, the Civil War and the attempts to maintain slavery, into reconstruction, Jim Crow and the Black Codes, and all the way up until now.
Politics must of necessity be involved as those in political power work to maintain the power that is in their hands, and they work to keep policies going that marginalize people of color and women and children.
For me, these issues are political and they are personal and they are deeply spiritual. The God who created us has a better way for people to be treated. The God who fashioned all of these things we see in the universe, however that all happened, has a better way for us to relate to one another.
So, when I see the tears of a Black man whose farm was stolen from him, when I see the angst in the face and voice of a Black woman who did not know if her husband was going to return from the farm at the end of the day, and when I see the tears and hear the sadness from three sons of a Black farmer and wife who died too early because of the relentless pressure of discrimination and the fight for justice, then, I take it all very personally. It is very personal and it is a spiritual battle.
Such mistreatment of people is wrong. From the halls of congress to the Oval Office in the White House, to the campaign trail, to the rows of cotton and wheat and peanuts and soybeans, treating people in unjust ways because of the color of their skin is just plain wrong.
In my files are copies of documents in which the USDA acknowledged wrongdoing, which coincidentally no one has ever gotten fired for doing, so this thing is real, and not just in the minds of a few misguided social justice advocates, including me. No, it is real, and when I read those documents, I see the blood, sweat, and tears of men and women who love their country and farming.
So, I do what I do because it is the right thing to do. I follow the lead of brothers and sisters who have been in this fight for years, even decades because it is the right thing to do.
On the Day of Judgment, I will stand before God and if I am asked why I spent my life doing what I did, I will simply say, because it was the right thing to do. Yes, Lord, it was THE RIGHT THING TO DO.
