He was There at the Beginning, and Now He is with the Ancestors

The first time I ever heard James Myart's voice I did not know if he was an aristocrat or what. I knew he was an attorney, but I seriously could not tell if he was white or Black. It was a Friday afternoon in the Spring of 1994, and I was home after a week of teaching, supervising, and doing therapy. The phone rang, and he told me that my friend, Tom Milholland, had sent him to me. 

We talked. He asked a lot of questions. I answered them, and then he said, "Dr.  Hinson I think I have failed to communicate to you the seriousness of our concerns," to which I replied, "Obviously I don't so tell me about your concerns. 

For the next fifteen or twenty minutes or so he rifted about the injustices done to Black farmers. 

It was there that he snagged me. A few weeks later, he strolled into my office with a gentleman from another state who had been screwed over by the county committee of the FSA/USDA. Game on. Tell me what I need to know. 

James was a powerhouse of a human being. Short in stature but powerful in personality and demeanor. 

What I learned later, which James actually tells in the documentary is that a farmer and his wife were watching television and on the news channel out of Abilene was a Black attorney representing a white couple who had been fostering a Black child, who now wanted to adopt him. Against all odds, James won that case. The farmer couple talked to the attorney and said, we want you to be our attorney, but that required money that they did not have. James never expected to hear from them, but a few days later, a certified check came in the mail. 

My friend told James to call me, and that's how it all started, and I've never looked back, and I have James Myart, attorney, San Antonio, Texas, to thank for that. 

James required reports that had to be filed with the federal government. I complied and wrote and took notes on hundreds of pages. I went from Texas to Louisiana to Georgia. He opened the door by simply telling Black farmers, "you can trust him. He's one of us." And they did. 

Collaborating with James meant suiting up and showing up at a mediation hearing in DC in August, 1997. He was settling their cases via the Administrative Law Procedure, but damages had to be negotiated. That mediation hearing was intense. The representative for the Department of Justice did not want me there, but James argued for my presence. I spoke while the attorney for Justice played taps on the glass table top with his sharpened pencil. Just a few minutes before that, James and this attorney for Justice had almost come to blows. On that day, I knew that what we were up to was huge, so I drew in pencil the table, who sat where, what the relationships were like, and who sat along the back wall. It was a serious event that I'd been invited to. I knew what my role was because James had defined it well. That's a story for another occasion. 

From then on, my office and I were in contact with James often. He needed updated reports or he needed an updated statement of charges. 

Then, after a while I lost track of him. He would appear periodically with ideas he'd run by me. I was always moved by how he'd stay in touch with me and the speed with which he could voice his ideas. 

Simply put, there would not be a Black Farmer Movement without James Myart. I have believed that for several years, and heard it from another advocate just last week. Between 1997 and 1999 fifteen cases of Black farmers were settled with the USDA/DOJ. I don't recall exactly how many had James as their attorney. I worked with him as psychological consultant on four of the fifteen, four of the first that settled with the USDA/DOJ, but he represented more. 

Later, when the Pigford v. Glickman class action suit was filed, I was in touch with James again. We talked on several occasions about how the case had turned out. I think he felt some deep remorse that he did not do more for farmers. On the other hand, I sensed in him a deep rage and resentment that another attorney had taken his work and had made millions of dollars off of the farmers. 

Over the last year, James came into my life again. He had big dreams. He wanted a "do-over" on some things that he'd left undone and he asked for my help along the way. Some things I could do and other things I could not do. 

And then, two months after having talked to him the last time, I was asked a painful question, "Did you know that James Myart has passed?" I had intended to call and catch up with him, but, to my regret, I did not. In the meantime, apparently, his health challenges got the best of him. 

I do not know how he died. Maybe I want to know and maybe I don't want to know. 

His death, however, took the wind out of our sails, several of us. When a warrior goes down in battle, regardless of  our divergent opinions on various matters, it hurts. It leaves a hole in our hearts. 

So, without James Myart there would be no Black Farmer Movement. I am very thankful that he allowed Shoun and me to interview him there in San Antonio a few years back. He does indeed play a pivotal role in the documentary. Whether via film, his friends, or his family, his story will be told for generations. 

I miss him and will for a long time. Without his invitation, I never would have become a part of the Black Farmer Movement. I'm deeply indebted to him and will remain so until my time on earth comes to an end. 

Rest in Power, James, until we meet again. 

Interview with Shoun Hill and Waymon Hinson

Later this week the documentary will be viewable via the Food Justice Film Festival portal. Here is an interview of Shoun and me with Jennifer and Linda of the Center for Biological Diversity.

Whistleblower Summit & Film Festival, Panel on USDA, Documentary on Black Farmers

 Media Advisory

USDA Coalition of Minority Employees

Justice for Black Farmers Group

 July 25, 2021

The 9^th Annual Whistleblower Summit and Film Festival begins July 25 and ends August 1, 2021. Speeches, panel discussions, and films have been organized by Michael McCray and Marcel Reid, co-organizers. The Summit web page is here: https://www.whistleblowersummit.com/ The ACORN 8 and the Society of Professional Journalists (DC Chapter) are hosting this year’s Whistleblower Summit & Film Festival. The theme this year is “Salute to the 50th Anniversary of the Pentagon Papers and Rise of Investigative Journalism.” The event will include a keynote presentation by Daniel Ellsberg among others. 

A wide array of panel discussions will begin on Sunday, July 25.  The topics include global whistleblowing, student debt, immigration justice, and many more. The list of panel discussions can be found here:  https://www.whistleblowersummit.com/summit-schedule.  These events are free of charge, but registration is required

The USDA Coalition of Minority Employees, an organization that has been in existence since 1994, has played significant roles in addressing discrimination across the USDA including the Forestry Service and the Farm Service Administration. The Coalition’s website is found here: http://agcoalition.org. We are featured in this year’s Summit and Film Festival.

Members of the Coalition will present a panel on Thursday, July 29, at 10:00am EST. The panel is entitled, “Systemic Discrimination at the US Department of Agriculture (USDA Coalition of Minority Employees)” and will feature Lawrence Lucas, President Emeritus, USDA Coalition of Minority Employees, as panel moderator; Tracy Lloyd McCurty, Founder and CEO of Black Belt Justice Center and Acres of Ancestry; Lesa Donnelly, Vice-President of the USDA Coalition of Minority Employees; Lloyd Wright, Black farmer and former Director, USDA Office of Civil Rights (OCR); and Waymon Hinson, independent research, author, and film co-producer. Secretary Tom Vilsack and other USDA officials have received significant push-back along with the OCR and Farm Service Administration (FSA). Investigative reporting reveals numerous injustices and failures by him and the OCR. The panelists will present disturbing information which presses the need for systemic change within the Department, or as it is labeled, “THE LAST PLANTATION,” in order to eliminate racism, sexual abuse, retaliation, and other abuses against minority farmers, especially Black farmers, and employees. The panel website is here: https://filmfestivalflix.com/zoom-meetings/combating-systemic-discrimination-at-u-s-department-of-agriculture/

In conjunction with the panel addressing systemic discrimination at USDA, the Film Festival will screen “I’m Just a Layman in Pursuit of Justice: Black Farmers Fight USDA,” an award-winning film co-produced by Shoun Hill and Waymon Hinson. The film chronicles 9 Black farmers and families who prevailed against the USDA in the late 1990s as they tell their stories in their own words of the injustices perpetrated upon them by the USDA.

The film is located here: https://filmfestivalflix.com/whistleblower/purchase-tickets/ It premiers on July 27 at 1:00 pm EST, and is available for 72 hours thereafter.

For further information, contact the following:

Panel discussion, Lawrence Lucas, LawrLCL@aol.com,  856-910-23

Documentary, Waymon Hinson, Waymon.hinson@gmail.com, 903-271-4654

A Giant in the Black Farmer Movement Has Passed: Eddie Wise

Eddie and Dorothy Wise are on the right. Both have gone on to meet their maker. Here is what Senator Booker read on the Senate floor about them during the recent debates about debt relief for socially disadvantaged farmers:

"I want to close by giving you one specific example of the discrimination I have been talking about. Eddie and Dorothy Wise were residents of Whitakers, NC. A retired Green Beret, Mr. Wise’s dream was to own a pig farm, and so in 1991, Mr. Wise purchased land and started to raise swine. But then came the discriminatory actions by USDA: failure to handle his loan applications in a timely manner, denial of loan applications, change of interest rates and escalation of monthly notes, and other misdeeds.

In 1997, a loan for improvements to the property was approved, but the receipt of the funds was delayed for 7 months, and his 400 pigs froze to death, destroying his operation. Later, he discovered that his original plan had been approved at the State level but that his loan officer never told him.

In the early morning hours of January 20, 2016, at least 14 Federal marshals descended with guns drawn on Eddie’s farm and forcibly escorted him and his wife, who was still in bed and suffering from a debilitating medical condition, out of their home and off their property. Forcibly evicted from their home and their land and forced to live in a cheap motel, Dorothy Wise died shortly thereafter. The 106-acre farm was sold to an adjacent White farmer for the miniscule price of $260,000, and Eddie Wise had lost the one thing that he had always wanted—to own a pig farm.

This story is just one example of the discrimination that literally destroyed the lives of hundreds of thousands of Black farmers and their families over the last century. Today we have the opportunity to take a step towards justice for those families. I urge all of my colleagues to support sections 1005 and 1006 of the bill before the Senate today."

Pursuit of Justice Film: Finalist in the Documentary Feature Category for Denton Black Film Festival

 “The Denton Black Film Festival (DBFF) is pleased to announce your film "I'm Just a Layman in Pursuit of Justice" Black Farmers Fight Against USDA" has been selected as a finalist in the Documentary Feature category for the DBFF 2021 Competitive Awards program. Congratulations! The award winners will be announced during the Sunday, January 31st Awards/Closing virtual event. We hope you will tune in for the program which will be livestreamed from the Eventive platform. You can place an order for the event with this LINK. It is a free event so please share with your family and friends.

Thank you for sharing your story with our festival audience. Each year is it a tough call for the judges who are composed of industry professionals and discerning people who are avid film fans. While not everyone will go home with an award we strive to honor all filmmakers and the work that goes into creating their films. At DBFF our goal is to showcase a variety of genres, and stories that entertain, Educate, and/or Inspire.”

Check out the link here: https://watch.eventive.org/dbff/play/5fef84d89d17f1007865bf3c

Denton Black Film Festival and "I'm Just a Layman in Pursuit of Justice"

As you may have heard over the last few months, the documentary that tells the stories of nine Black farmers who fought against the USDA is now "in the can." It is finished and is available for the first time at the Denton Black Film Festival beginning later this week. 

Between 1997 and 1999, fifteen farmers prevailed against the USDA. As they prevailed, the USDA still withheld what was promised. This film, "I'm Just a Layman in Pursuit of Justice: Black Farmers Fight Against the USDA," tells those stories of nine of those fifteen farmers and family members in their own words. It is co-produced by Shoun Hill and Waymon Hinson. 

Here is the link to the web page:  https://blackfarmersinsearchofjusticefilm.com/. Inside this page you can see the background of the film, portraits of the farmers and a few of their sound bites, the trailer, and videos by Hill and Hinson as they tell what the film means to them. 

Here is a link to where you can buy a viewing of the film: https://watch.eventive.org/dbff/play/5feb39317bf46b00542ed103

When you purchase a viewing for $4.99, you have 24 hours to watch it between January 27 and February 2. 

As you enter to purchase it, you can also vote for it as your favorite documentary. 

Here is the link to the entire film festival. It is one of the biggest in the country, so we are honored to have it selected:  https://dentonbff.com/

Please feel to contact Waymon if you have any questions: waymon.hinson@gmail.com. 

We know you will be both disturbed and motivated by what you see and hear. 

Black Farmers in Search of Justice Film

The web page has been live for several days. For those who have not seen it, here it is:

https://blackfarmersinsearchofjusticefilm.com/

If you hit that link, it'll take you to the web page for the documentary about Black farmers and their fight against the USDA.

Historically, Black farmers got the short end of the proverbial stick when it came to loans and services. Without loans, it is impossible to farm in these days. If what you need comes late into the planting system, the cycle starts and from there it never ends. Then, if you do get a loan and do not receive adequate support, advice, consultation, etc., as do the white farmers, then the cycle continues to deepen and deepen. 

However, when the loans come due, and they always come due, the plot thickens. Failure to assist in the farming business is hidden beneath layer upon layer of bureaucracy. The problem never is claimed by the FSA/USDA, local officials, county committee. The lack of transparency is blatantly obvious. Few if any of those who were guilty of discrimination ever lost their jobs. The farmers lost their land, but the USDA officials kept their jobs. In one situation that I heard about, an FSA county official was actually transferred to another county/parish, and then promoted to the state office. Inhumane!

This film chronicles in their own words and lived experiences the trauma of fighting, though winning, and the battle with the USDA. Fifteen Black farmers prevailed against the USDA between '97 and '99. Shoun and I interviewed nine of them. Some had died. Some simply did not want to be interviewed, and a couple had their own deals in the making. These are courageous people. Every single one of them. 

This web page will give you several things: 1) the intent of the film, 2) the trailer, 3) pictures and a few quotes of the farmers we interviewed, 4) videos of why we made the film and what we hope for it, and 5) information about us and how to contact us for what reasons. 

We are currently in search of a distributor. If you have any leads for us, please let us know. 

Light in the Darkness

The work that I do as an adviser to the USDA Coalition for Minority Employees, Justice for Black Farmer Group, developing the documentary along with Shoun Hill, and engaging in other ways within the Black Farmer Movement are so central to who I am as a human being that it is difficult to tease them out. My desire is to be a good ally in this work. 

Richard Rohr says that there are six types of liberation: inner, cultural, dogmatic, personal, spiritual, and liberation for "infinite mystery." His note on personal liberation from the "system" rings true, though he and I may see things differently. 

Then, at this time of the year, the season of Advent, we are focusing on light, the light that shines in darkness, the light of the world, the light that came into the world, the light which was the Christ child, and how our world did not understand it, and still has not yet responded to it, yet it is still there for our engagement. Yes, Jesus entered the world, and light shone all around Him, and the light shines on and in us to let us know where we can be cleansed, purified, and made righteous and justice oriented. 

How do these connect is the question of the morning. It is dark here in the neighborhood as I glance out the window. My desk lamp over to my right illuminates this room. Down on the street on the right, the neighbor's Christmas lights have shone all night and they dispel a bit of the darkness. In front of our house, we have a laser light that shines images that move at rapid speed on the outside of our house. Inside, we have various things that attract the grandchildren, the Christmas tree, the little stations that have lights inside them, the music box that they all love and claim for their own, and other displays that capture their imagination. 

The world of injustice in a dark world. Various offices that symbolize institutions of power and privilege overshadow the lives and efforts of Black farmers. The politics of the day is dark and foreboding as we anticipate the transition from one administration to another, and yet within the new administration that we are relatively optimistic about there is darkness. One of his nominees led an agency full of darkness that wounded people, overshadowed people, took the land away from people, left people bereft of their livelihood and identities, protected the brutality of the powerful against women employees. We could go on and on about the darkness. 

For me, there is great symbolism in the moment and the MOMENT of the Black Farmer Movement. I think it is no accident that we are advocating AGAINST a nominee at this particular time of the year. Sure, it is a part of the election and transition cycle of things. I am struck, however, by Advent. Advent shapes the protests in a different direction. We are not just working AGAINST a nominee. We are working FOR people who work for and are recipients of services and programs within that department. 

Not only do I need liberation from various thing like Rohr suggested, including myself, but there are many good people who deserve to be liberated from that which has held them enslaved since 1862. Lincoln's "the peoples' department" has become "the last plantation." The plantation is run predominately by white people appointed or hired by a white government with programs and services designed for white people. 

If indeed Jesus came to liberate us from our darkness, and to bring the true light into the world, then that is the cause of righteousness, the cause of advocacy, the cause of protest, the cause of demanding change at the highest levels of the land. 

So, I do not separate my faith as a human being from my work and engagement as an advocate. As I invite the Christ child into my world here in a week, I invite, no, I demand that institutions of power and privilege change and permit the light to shine in the darkness of their halls and smoke-filled, back room deliberations that marginalize generation after generation after generation of Black farmers and their families. 

That intersection of the light of the gospel and the darkness of institutions is the world in which I reside. It is oftentimes an uncomfortable place and space. At other times, it is one of immense joy and satisfaction. 

I invite both. To do otherwise would be less than human. 

Press Release for the Black Farmer versus USDA Documentary

 

Just Another Story on the Road to Justice

Charla and I had been on our own Civil Rights mini-tour for several days. We had stopped at what is left of the Bryant's store, we took in the museum that highlights the tragic Emmett Till story, the Historic Intrepid Center in Glendora, Mississippi, and we'd had an amazing conversation with an African American rabbi and his friend. We talked of his days growing up in Greenville, MS.  I shared with them my story of meeting the internal medicine physician/farmer who had supported my notions of stress on the health and well being of Black farmers when dealing with the USDA. Come to realize that this gentleman knew the farmer/physician. He told of how the farmer/physician was quite a farmer in that area of the south. The farmer/physician and I had met at a Black land loss summit in Memphis, Tennessee in January, 2006. The physician is still practicing.

We journeyed over to Jackson to site of the iconic Woolworth scene in which young Black people and a few white college students (including Loki Mulholland's mother) protested for the right of people of color to sit at lunch counters and to eat where other normal folk eat.

We found that. Read a few signs. And then we made our way to the next part of the journey.

I wanted to meet face to face if possible with former USDA Agriculture Secretary Mike Espy. Mr. Espy had served for a couple of years under President Clinton until, in my opinion, he got too uppity in the eyes of the white establishment and then the fabricated charges rolled in and shut down his efforts for justice.

Charla and I had an old office location and phone number. Neither worked.

We walked into the Visit Jackson! office downtown and asked for directions. People sat up and began to get curious as to why we were looking for him. We looped in a couple of things like meeting him, wanting him eventually for an interview for a documentary on Black farmers. Charla and I were certainly objects of curiosity with our Black Farmer BFAA T-shirts on, her with her flaming red hair and freckles, and me with my whatever face on. Two white people wearing Black folks shirts and talking about meeting one of Jackson's key people who was involved in a political campaign at the moment.

As we stood there and talked, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman walk past us, pause, and then turn back around to us.  She had gone several feet down a long hall to our right, just behind the desk where the Visit Jackson! folks were talking to us.

She came back, and with a note of interest said, "My daddy was a Black farmer and I couldn't help but overhear what you were talking about." Charla and I were pleased to meet her. We chatted about our interests and then she said rather calmly, "Mrs. Espy is one of my best friends.  I'll call her and ask where her husband's office is located." We were ecstatic.

She returned with the information. His office was on the north side of Jackson, not far away. We chatted further and attempted to express our gratitude, without over doing it, for her "intrusion" and information

We found our way to Mr. Espy's office, but he was in DC.  We did, however, exchange business cards with his campaign manager, a young woman who had just moved to Jackson from some place up north. I do believe we also saw in passing Mr. Espy's son, a young man who looked very much like he could be his son indeed. But, we dared not assume or presume. 

From that point on, my partner in the documentary effort, Shoun Hill from the Bronx, continued to pursue him in the hopes of interviewing him for the documentary. His role was pivotal and will come out clearly when we release the film into the public's eye here shortly.

In the grand scheme of things, beautiful things happen. Charla and I just followed our instincts and asked questions. Jacksonian people were extraordinarily helpful, especially the woman whose father was a "Black farmer," and who had a "best friend"  who was the wife of the gentleman we wished to see.

It is indeed a small world. People are very helpful and seem happy to help when they get the vibe that we are into things for the good of the people.

So, today, I am happy to share this story with you.  I hope you and I both will be good citizens and prove to be helpful and kind to those in search of various and sundry things.

The world needs us.  The world needs us badly. We need the world. We need each other. Badly.

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.

Deconstructing the Premier of the Black Farmer Documentary

It's been a while since I last wrote an update for you our followers on this page. As you can see, it was once a fundraising page, but now it is used for updates. The two photos here are with permission from Heather Malaika Hicks who attended her first Summit.

November 8 and 9 were special days in Roanoke Rapids, NC as we prepped for the 16th Annual Land Loss Summit. It was a stellar program with people I'd followed over the last few months and years. So, on Friday afternoon Shoun and I showed the first half of the film and then on Saturday we showed the second half of the film. Each slot included a conversation with the attendees about what they saw in the documentary and what they'd recommend for us.

Even though I had seen it all the way through several times with an eye toward micro changes that I'd suggest to Shoun, I also watched it from two perspectives, one because I was there when we filmed the farmers laughing, crying, and pondering those bitter days of the fight for their land, and second as a viewer as if I were seeing it for the first time. Frankly, both were painful.

Seeing it with both sets of eyes and ears was deeply moving. Despite my familiarity with their stories, those stories brought on laughter and then, surprisingly, the stories brought on tears as moments that caught me off guard.

The audience was very friendly at the Summit. They understood the deeper, underlying message of racism in America, living while Black, and even farming while Black. White people seem to be moved differently than are Black people. White people are stunned and experience the burden of disbelief that people are so brutally mistreated. By and large, African Americans say in different ways, "Of course, that's the way things go." They way things generally go.

So, Shoun and I heard compliments. We heard suggestions. We were validated by words of "you have it all there." "Work on two or three things and you have it," or something like that.

So, we anticipated showing it, we showed it, and we learned from showing it, all with a sense of what needs to be done between now and when we formally put it out in the real world.

That we look forward to finishing it. The farmers and families told us their stories. We want to do well with our obligation to do well with their stories and for those stories and the telling to make a difference in small spaces and places and bigger, larger places and places.

Reflections on Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has taken on a new complexion this year for those who live at our house. That would be Buddy, Charla, and me. To say that gratitude fills the air would be an understatement. While Charla is the go-to person for getting things done, I am the go-to person for pondering things. She tolerates and most times engages me around things that are deeply meaningful to us both.
At the top of the gratitude list would be Charla. Her "let's just get the job done" mentality has been more than evident for a long time. She drove Shoun and me from Denison, Texas, to Huntsville, AL with stops along the way to interview farmers. That was a lot of hours and a lot of miles. Then, from June 19 until now, she has been faithfully taking care of me. Lest that sound like something goofy, she has been the one who managed the doctor schedule, cleaned out ports, woke up with me during the night, and sat with me and grieved and wept, wondering when wellness would be amongst us again.
She, Buddy, me, and recovery have organized our lives since June 19 around illness. Long ago and far away, I would engage students, especially in the course, Special Topics in Family Therapy, or whatever it was called, in the notion of how illnesses become the organizing principle for families. They tell us what to do, when to do it, how to do it. So, five and a half months later, I am saying thank you to her for keeping me sane, for taking care of me when I could not take care of myself, and nurturing our relationship along the way. As we gently tell illness and surgeries to step back, that we can now handle things, I am simply overwhelmed with thankfulness for her.
On another note, I am thankful for my cancer diagnoses, cancer of the kidney and small cell lymphacytic lymphomena, because they remind me that nobody died and made me king of the universe. I find myself identifying with those who struggle with cancer and with those who are cancer survivors and those who do not know if nor when it will read its ugly head again. I am thankful to a God who heals and who is there with us in the healing. I am thankful to a God who loves, even when healing is not in the cards. I do not know how it is decided who gets well and who gets sick and transitions to the other life. All I know that God is present in the ER and the OR with all of us regardless of the outcome. I am thankful for the marvels of modern medicine. Without MRIs, CT scans, robotic surgical techniques, and those who make those things work, I would have less time on this earth than I actually have now.
No, I do not know how God and modern medicine dance. I am grateful for an attending Father, and I am grateful for attending physicians and their fellows.
In a few minutes five of our grandchildren will burst through the door. Two will travel an hour and a half to get here. Their parents and youngest brother will stay home and nurse their viruses. I am grateful for a son who knows that I do not need what they have. The youngest three will come through the front door. Buddy will greet them as he always does. The oldest grandson is already here. He came in last night and is asleep in the guest bedroom. I am thankful for all seven of them. I want to grow old and to watch them grow up.
I am grateful for an organization, its leaders, and its mission to make the world a better place for those who are farming while Black. BFAA invited Charla and me into its midst in 2005 and we have been there ever since. Gary Grant and his family invited us in and we have become family with them and they with us. I am grateful to be able to write, develop, and advocate for African American farmers. I am grateful for Shoun Hill as we have partnered and developed the documentary of those courageous 15 farmers who faced down the USDA and DOJ back in the late '90s. I am thankful for African American farmers and their families across this country who have trusted me with their stories. I recognize the fact that it's people who look like me who work in positions of power who have harmed them at times irreparably. They trusted me anyway. That trust will be evident when you see the documentary.
My heart weeps for those who died in this battle long before they saw justice arrive at their doorsteps. May God have mercy on their souls and may they rest in power. I am thankful for those hundreds of people who have contributed to the BFAA cause, focused on the documentary. Your support and friendship, frankly, blew me away.
I am thankful for my church, imperfect as it is, and its people who desire to serve the Lord in this region known as Texoma. I long for some things with my fellowship that may not happen in my lifetime.
I am thankful for friends who keep me honest, for other friends who join me in political, social, and justice-oriented things. That fellowship of head and heart keeps my mind moving, my agenda sharpened, and my faith strong.
And, finally, I am grateful for those follow me on Facebook and on this blog. Your encouragement in doing so moves my heart and inspires me to write more.

Update: Black Farmer Documentary

We are currently in the "dogs days" of development of the Black farmer documentary. That simply means that there has been a huge transition going on. The first huge phase was creating contacts, schedules, and traveling on-site to interview the farmers and other principals for the documentary. Over the better part of two years, Shoun and I have traveled (oftentimes with our driver, Charla) to Texas, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey, Maryland, DC, Louisiana, Georgia, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Alabama. We interviewed in their homes and Shoun took "b-roll" footage of their farms and portraits of the farmers.

Since then, we have secured some amazing drone footage of two farms that show the up and the downs, the triumphs and the tragedies of farming while Black in America.

Shoun is now doing the creating and likely exhausting work of pulling sound bites from the myriad of interviews and hours that tell the stories of struggle and resilience of those brave farmers who went up against the USDA from 1997-1999 and won their cases. "Won" is a word we'll deconstruct in the film. The USDA and its power structure always has a way of winning despite loosing, thanks to the DOJ and OGC.

My role has been that of fact-checking, contacting specific people whose names came up repeatedly in the interviews, and providing Shoun with information and data as he works on the script.

While we did interview 9 of the 15 farmers/families, we were not able to contact three others as they have died since then. One adult child of a farmer who settled declined to participate with us. Two farmers who prevailed opted not to interview with us due to legal obligations of their own.

So, we are inching toward the 16th Black Land Loss Summit in Roanoke Rapids, NC, on November 8 and 9.

If you are reading this and know that your friends contributed to this effort, please forward to them and/or repost to your own FB page. Will update you all in another few weeks.

An Update on the Black Farmer Documentary Effort

The last update from us was back in June as we wrapped up the intense week of traveling across Louisiana, Mississippi, Arkansas, and Alabama. Since then, the work has continued though on a slower pace for me, but for Shoun, things are continuing at warp speed.

Here is a brief summary of what we’ve been up to over the last two years.  In terms of funding, we received a sizable grant from the Black Farmers and Agriculturalists Association and its amazing leader, President, Gary Grant. While that was sizable no doubt, and got us moving down the road, we realized early on that expenses were going to be higher than we anticipated. That is where our friends stepped in.  Many of you prayed over the effort and offered words of support, 90 of you reposted my posts on the FB fund raising page, and 146 of you donated a total of $10,225. We find that both amazing and humbling.

Thus far, in both 2018 and 2019, Shoun and I (and Charla), have made six trips across eleven states.  We have been in Texas (twice), Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, North Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, Alabama, New Jersey, Maryland, and Washington, DC.

We have interviewed legal counsel, farmers and families; a former USDA Secretary of Agriculture; a former Director, Office of Civil Rights, USDA; the president emeritus of the USDA Coalition of Minority Employees; and the author of the premier book on injustices perpetrated by the USDA upon Black farmers during the age of the Civil Rights.

To the best of our abilities to ascertain, there were 15 farmers who settled administratively with the USDA in 1997, 1998, and 1999. The Department of Justice was deeply involved, but that is a story for another day. Of those 15 farmers, we were unable to locate three of them either because they were deceased and we could not contact family members, or we could not contact them period. May they Rest in Power from their trials and tribulations.

Three declined participation. Two are currently living but have legal obligations in areas that conflicted with our efforts. One son of a deceased farmer declined because “that was then and this is now.” We were disappointed in all three of these, but we understand complicated matters of various sorts.

We interviewed living farmers or family members of the remaining farmers. Of the 15 total, we interviewed 9 for a total of 11 interviews. These involved the farmers and spouses themselves, adult children of deceased farmers, adult grandchildren of deceased farmers, and a mother of a farmer.

The interviews took on a life of themselves, so to speak. Arrangements had been made, we arrived generally on time, or if we were not going to make it, we’d make a courtesy call, and then we’d arrive and begin to set up. Shoun handled all of the technical, camera, filming-related issues. I handled explanations, honoraria, signatures, and questions. Charla was marvelous for helping us get these things together. Then, we’d move toward the cameras, with note pad and questions in hand, we’d begin the interview once Shoun was squared away.  The interview would generally continue start to finish though there were times when we would need to stop for a break of some sort of other. Then we would finish.

After finishing the interview, Shoun would take portraits of the farmers and families. He would then walk the land with or without the farmers and families, taking what is called “b-roll” footage. Charla and I would oftentimes help him with his equipment. Sometimes, we would just stay out of the way. Other times we would chat with the farmers and families while Shoun was capturing what his eye said to capture.

Sometimes we would head into town for lunch, or sometimes we would chat a bit and then head on down the road. While I cannot speak for Shoun or Charla, I oftentimes found my head spinning and my heart moving into unique spaces and places.

At this point, the work actually continues. We believe that drone footage will help tell the stories. We have secured a photographer who understands racial issues and will help in telling the stories. Your financial support there is deeply appreciated. Along with that, there is a myriad of details to get done such as contacting folks whose names may or may not appear in the film, who may or may not want to speak for themselves, and all manner of other things.

While this is certainly longer than I’d intended to write today, it does give you a glimpse of the work to which you have contributed.  I’ll write more about gratitude later.

The Justice of Your Cause

As most of the readers and followers of this blog know, Shoun Hill and I are in the midst of a two-year period of development of the documentary on the Black farmer movement.  We are specifically focusing upon 15 farmers and families who against all odds, many seemingly insurmountable odds, faced off against the USDA, metaphorically and perhaps not so metaphorically as "David" against "Goliath." These cases were settled (though two were settled and then unsettled) administratively which meant out of sight, no court battles, and little publicity.

They led ultimately to what became the Pigford Class Action Suit which was certified in 1999. Without these farmers and families, there would not have been a Black Farmer Movement.

Shoun and I have been inspired by this journey and committed to telling the stories of pain and suffering and resilience for years.  From what Shoun said the other night on the blog radio talk show, his interest goes back to graduate school in Ohio.  My interest goes back to that afternoon in the Spring, 1994 when the attorney for Black farmers called me.

In the early morning hours of a day or so ago a text from the psalmist David caught my eye.  I found it again this morning and am drawn to it and its applications.  Join me in that text, if you will: Psalm 37:5, 6:  

                                   Commit your way to the Lord; 
                                               trust in Him and He will do this: 

                                   He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, 

                                              the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.

That text was written a long time ago by the poet King David.  No doubt many can see many applications in that text.  I am not alone.

The cause for which Shoun and I are working is indeed a just cause.  People hurt by people working for a powerful institution.  People at the lower levels of a governmental agency, with power in their hands, hearts, and pens,  can cause unspeakable pain and suffering in the lives, souls, and families of those committed to this country, their families, and to farming. That someone at that level of the bureaucracy could reek havoc is an injustice that has no words.

These are not Shoun's and Waymon's stories.  These are the stories of the farmers and families in Texas, Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama, and other states as well who fought and won.  Or, they fought, won, and lost. They won their cases, but the stress of dealing with the USDA wore their bodies and families out. Some died early. All wore the scars of the battle. Fighting racism is a costly fight. 

Yes, we are committed to the Lord, yes, we trust Him, and, yes, we are not asking for our righteousness to shine like the sun in the middle of the day, but we do rest in His promise, that he will make the justice of our cause to shine like the noonday sun.

That is bright.  The sun at that time of day is very, very bright.

We humbly ask God to do what He is promising in this text. 

Sacred Journeys: Theirs and Ours

For those of you who have been following Shoun Hill and me on either our Facebook fundraising page or here on this blog, we thank you. If you have, you know then that I have been sharing a little about the sacred stories and the sacred journey that we have been on. That journey will continue until the Black farmer documentary premiers and then beyond as we intend to use it to tell the stories of struggle and resilience of these amazing people and their fight for justice.

We have just returned to our homes and our beloveds in our cities of choice. Between Sunday and Friday, we traveled from the Bronx, NY and Denison, TX to the northern sections of North Carolina, southern Virginia, and the Durham, NC area.  We conducted five interviews for well over 12 hours and numerous hours of b-roll footage that Shoun will use in his artistic way to tell the stories of injustices done to Black farmers at the hands of the USDA and DOJ.

We are focusing on the limited number of cases that were settled with the USDA and DOJ between 1997 and 1999. Their stories are riveting. Terribly riveting.

Most of these farmers had their cases settled which means a dollar amount, debt relief, and priority services if they continue in farming. We have not asked the interviewees about money or debt relief. Those numbers are actually available most likely via Freedom of Information Act.  We'll see. We'll not reveal any specific numbers for specific farmers, just aggregates.

Along the way, we are coming face to face with a bitter reality. Several bitter realities in fact. Discrimination started very early in their farming days. Farming while Black in America is a dangerous occupation. The list of discriminatory acts is lengthy: farm operating plans changed to accommodate the county supervisor, a supervisor who "lost" the applications, overt acts of aggression such as a confederate tie around the neck of the supervisor or a gun displayed at the desk, too little money coming too late, supervised loans (while whites did not have such), debt relief not offered, and foreclosures without justification. The list is long, very, very long.

The legal processes themselves are brutal, lengthy, and painful.

We have come face to face with farmers and families who tell us that the settlement was not satisfactory. After all, how much is a life work, a kidney, an eye, the battle with diabetes or hypertension, or a marriage or a family.  No amount of money can replace a loved one.

So, as we got to the airport in Raleigh-Durham and headed to Atlanta and on to our homes. We were satisfied that we had done the technologies of recording and interviewing. On the other hands, our hearts were full of stories, expressions of grief, displays of anger, and lives realizing that dreams were lost.

The resilience of the farmers and families is inspiring. Their faith, commitment to their calling, and faith in doing the right thing will inspire us all.

We have one more week of interviewing and much, much work to do. 

Thank you for following us and supporting these efforts.

We Lingered in the Spaces and Places of Silence

Shoun and I have completed day five of our travels.  Charla has accompanied us, and what a joy she is.  We have a routine established. Shoun sets up his camera equipment.  I manage the paperwork and explanations and all. Charla stays along the fringes, being helpful to Shoun or the family. Shoun then gives the instructions of counting to three after a question and after and answer.  This is the hard part for me of interviewing versus conversing. I got good marks yesterday and today.

Our interviews have spanned the generations, elders, young adults, and slightly older adults. The conversations have been with family and friends of friends. We interviewed in a quaint and comfortable library in one small North Carolina and in the comfort of a living room in a home two hours from the first interview.

I am struck tonight with the raw emotion of stories. Stories are both evocative and provocative I have said for years. We live in and through our stories.  Our stories give us meaning.  They set the parameters of who is in and who is out of families and spaces and places.

An interview, though not a therapy session, is designed to elicit stories. The interviewee sits with camera on her or him.  I sit off to the side, out of the glare of the lights or the stare of the camera. I have to ask good questions.  It is their story that the camera and I are searching for.  I am aware of the power and influence of questions.  Questions can be biased, gender insensitive, or whatever. I have to be very, very aware that I am a white man asking questions of African American farmers and families.  My face likely looks like the faces of those who discriminated against them.

Sometimes I just have to sit back and do nothing more than listen.  The person starts at a place and goes to whatever place is deemed narrative worthy.  Within the text is sacred space and dialogue.  Within the spaces between are poetry, intensity, and deep, raw emotion.

Today we listened to stories of a movement.  I was very, very curious about how a family situation turns into a movement.  The grand narrative of service to others is rich throughout the time with them.

Today we listened to stories of loss and grief and about passing the baton from one generation to the next. We listened painfully as the living rehearsed the stories of the deceased, how their lives will never be the same, and how the USDA robbed them of their beloveds.  The design of class action suits is anywhere from restoration of wholeness, or payment for pain and suffering, or any number of other things. Sadness can turn into anger and resentment in a heart beat.

In the cases of these farmers and families, there is never enough money, and there never will be enough money to pay for their losses.  Some have wished that their loved one had walked away.  That way, they would still have their loved one.  With others, we discussed, so, how much is an eye worth, or a kidney, or a heart, or a brain, or a marriage, or a family. For such, there is no price.

We lingered in between the answers to the questions and the next question.  Yes, we lingered in those spaces and places of silence.  Those sacred moments of silence were not to be unnecessarily cluttered with words. 

So, thus we wrapped up a five day period of interviews. We conducted five interviews with five people. We have five more interviews to conduct over the next little while.

Until the next one, I think I'll continue to linger in the spaces and places of sacred silence.

Stories, Pain, and Suffering: Are We Every Really Prepared?

Shoun Hill, photographer and videographer from the Bronx, and I in the last days prior to our fifth trip to interview Black farmers for the Black farmer documentary project.  We have been working on it for over a year and are anticipating two more weeks of filming and then completion in mid-November when we will premier it at a Black land loss summit in Atlanta.

There is always much dissonance for me. While I have had my own life of opportunities and challenges, of successes and bitter failures, I have experienced none like the people we will interview. 

These stories are painful to hear. They are painful stories within which I will probe for emotional and relational themes.  While the stories will uniquely tell themselves, as the interviewer, I provide the prompts.  At some point in the process, they lead and I will follow.

There is something about story telling that allows the old pictures and pain to emerge into now. We have seen happy and cheerful people change before our eyes.  They countenance, demeanor, and all change before us as they remember times and places and events and words and insults.

On multiple occasions, as I was leaving interviews back in the day when on leave from Abilene Christian University, my comment was something like, "Thank you for sharing your stories with me.  I want to be a faithful witness to your stories in places that you cannot or do not wish to go."

Neither they nor I knew what that meant. Some are already deceased, and that grieves me sorely, as they did not have to die so soon, but the grind of the battle wore them out. The deceased lived in Texas, Kansas, North Carolina, Georgia, Oklahoma, and other states.

They will not get to see the fruit of their labors in the lives of people who want to do better in this world.  Yes, there are people who will want to do better in this world because they told their stories of suffering and resilience.

People whose skin looks like mine can make a difference in the world. If we sit with our anxieties, respect the people and their stories, listen empathically and not sympathetically, and if we seek to understand, we can become allies who walk alongside our brothers and sisters who have experienced systemic racism at its worst in our country.  Then, the world around us will not be the same.

Yes, Shoun and I are preparing to hear stories.  We are never truly prepared.

Here I Sit

Here I sit, pondering it all, making sense of it all.  That has been one of my life-long attributes for good or for it, making sense of it all. Perhaps you can understand by the time this post is completed.

Our interviewing and filming trip to the DC area was quite good, not perfect, but generally quite good. We captured somewhere in the vicinity of 12 hours of conversation with three gentlemen who have made marks on the civil rights world. We are committed to protecting their anonymity until the documentary comes out. Then, folks will know them all. But for now, there is one photograph that I am putting out there.  It is simply a dining room table, the interviewee’s notes on his side of the table, and lovely artwork in the background.

Hidden in the depths of my files has been a schematic that I drew in late September, 1997 at a mediation hearing before the Department of Justice and the Department of Agriculture.  My presence there was not welcomed by the appointee from Justice, Michael Sitcov.  He and legal counsel wrangled over me for a few minutes until the mediators decided I could stay and speak. At some time during that day, I flipped the cover page of my written presentation over and drew the large conference table and who was sitting where both around the table and along the back wall. Legal counsel, farmers, and me on the left side of the table, mediators at the end of the table, representatives for DOJ and USDA on the right side of the table, and attorneys for the Office of General Counsel along the back wall. For some reason, I thought this was going to be a big deal, so I wanted to chronicle it via sketching that little schematic.

Here we are some twenty-two years later. The farmers have been interviewed for the documentary. Legal counsel has been interviewed. The appointee for the DOJ refused to be interviewed by us. One USDA civil rights employee has transitioned into the other life.  One USDA civil rights office employee interviewed with us. I remembered his being there.  He remembered some things about that mediation session, but not sure if he remembered me being there.  It was a big deal or all of them would not have been there.

From that day until now, several around that table remain committed to justice for Black farmers.  They have helped with names, dates, towns, and states in our pursuit of locating all of the farmers whose cases were settled via administrative processes. We have that list.  We have interviewed some and we will interview others.  Some have met their maker, but their stories are chronicled in local newspapers here and there.

I get it that I am not the dominant thread in this story.  I am only a small thread in the tapestry of what we trying to do.

However, it is with deep, deep emotions that I experience in looking at that drawing and re-reading that September day in 1997. To ponder who was there then and who is playing major roles in the development of the Black farmer documentary is intense.

On two other pages are notes from the first two rounds of the mediation. They do not paint a benevolent picture of the mediation process. The farmer and his wife are burdened by the process. The civil rights folks are seriously wanting this to be settled well on behalf of the farmers. The DOJ, however, has a client, and that client is the United States of America and the DOJ.  They are bearing down hard on the farmer and spouse, they are grinding them emotionally, and they are protecting the government well. At that moment the people do not matter.  The institution matters. Yes, I said it.  The institution matters.

A couple of quotes from Mrs. Farmer and their legal counsel sum up the day.  Their words are written there in my handwriting at the bottom of the page:  this is a “dark cloud,” and “let us go. Release us from this.” 

This went on that day. Land loss is ongoing for Black farmers. The battle is not over.  The battle will not be over until justice is served and until the USDA recognizes that it has perpetuated racism by its aggressive and passive efforts.  Those guilty of racism and discriminative actions toward Black farmers did not lose their jobs.  In some instances, they even got promoted. Even when discrimination was proved, employees kept their jobs.  This lack of accountability is just plain wrong.

There is much more to be told.