11th National Black Land Loss Summit

The Summit is here. Charla and I find it interesting to land in North Carolina once more. We'll be seeing old friends and making new friends. This is not a "family reunion" per se, but some of the attendees are indeed like family. There's family in the blood and there's family in the spirit. Some are tighter than others. A righteous cause brings together like-minded people in an effort o make a difference in the world.

We joined this righteous cause in an unsuspecting way in the early '90s. The stories of African American farmers captured us then and hold us now. We all get it that most, though not all(maybe "some" would be a better word), of Jim Crow's racist policies have ended, the more subtle forms of racism remain prevalent. Not only are they prevalent but they are pervasive and cut to the quick day in and day out for people of our land.

This summit will be shifting the focus to the future of Black farmers and their livelihood. A shift toward the future is a good thing, but we must never forget the past, especially if the past lives on in the present. The signs of white privilege are all around us. It catches us and holds us, even when we attempt to deny it. When we unpack our "invisible nap sack," so to speak, we can make a difference in the world. Some call it "unconscious habit," something we've acquired via being seduced into believing certain things about ourselves, or assuming certain things about ourselves that go unquestioned.

My contribution to the Summit will be modest at best, minimal in all probability. However, the Summit's contribution to my life and work will be immense. It will continue to fuel the passion for justice that flows through my veins.

The Summit brings together like-minded people.

This weekend I will miss more than I can say those good people from Abilene Christian University who formed Social Justice Teams I, II, III, and IV. They will be here in spirit. I am indebted to them for the influence they had and continue to have on my life and this Righteous Cause.

Pray for this noble event and how it will influence things in these parts and around the country.

11th National Black Land Loss Summit

The Summit is around the corner.

Check out this link for details and for BFAA's new website.

Pray for this effort.

Hope to see you there.

11th National Black Land Loss Summit

11th National Black Land Loss Summit

February 20-22, 2009

Tillery and Franklinton Center at Bricks, NC

Theme: A VISION FOR THE FUTURE

WHY A SUMMIT?

Prior to the now historic class action lawsuit brought by black farmers, Tim Pigford vs. Glickman, Secretary of USDA, African Americans had been losing nearly 9,000 acres of land per week for years. Yet, between the end of slavery and 1920, African Americans showed an impressive capacity for excellence by establishing nearly one million farms on approximately fifteen million acres. Since then, however, our farms and owned farmland have declined precipitously. Farm numbers have declined by roughly 98 percent and our owned farm acres have decreased by over 50 percent. Even recently, our farm numbers have continued to decline. Between 1982 and 1997 alone, the number of black-operated farms nationwide fell nearly 45 percent, while many southern states saw a decline of over 50 percent. In North Carolina, the home of the lead plaintiff in the Pigford case, black farms declined by a staggering 66 percent during the 1980s and 1990s. Today, new methods of counting small and disadvantaged farms make direct comparisons since 1997 difficult and should be viewed with caution. For those of us on the ground, things do not seem dramatically better. To add insult to injury, many rural southern communities endure environmental degradation, health risks and loss of economic vitality as part of nationwide environmental injustice and racism. This injustice is worsened by the loss of farmland and control of our communities. A national Black Land Loss Summit is an opportunity to jointly craft and rework our focus, perhaps returning to our original concerns about fairness and health in the countryside, in this post-Pigford era.

DISCRIMINATION and the USDA

The Pigford v. Glickman Consent Decree has failed miserably and the struggle for survival has become more crucial. In April 2009, it will have been eleven years since the Pigford Consent Decree was declared "a fair, adequate and reasonable settlement of the claims brought in the case" by Judge Paul Freidman, and yet so little progress has been made for black farmers.

PROPOSED AGENDA

FRIDAY – February 20, 2009

2:00pm – Registration Opens – Tillery Community Center, Tillery, NC

3:00 – BFAA Board Meets

Select a recommended slate of officers
Vision and Mission Statements
Transition from Pigford Education and Advocacy
Black Family Farmers ARE Middle Class

Research

Family farms vs. industrial operations
Local food vs. corporate
Health & community vs. greed
BFAA as leadership in the Black farm movement
Partnering with Agriculturalists
Commitment to the organization
Going from chapters to state representatives
Plan of Action
One or two primary agenda items for the year
Relationship with other organization
What organizations do we want to partner with
Establishing BFAA with International Land Groups
Other items

5:30 – Dinner – The Resettlement Café

7:00 – Head to Franklinton Center for the nights stay

SATURDAY – February 21, 2009

8:00am Breakfast

9:00 Workshop – Bio Mass

10:00 Break

10:15 Workshop – Risk Management

11:30 Local Foods – Dorothy Barker, Spring Plant (Invited)

12:30 Lunch

2:00 White Privilege and the Costs to African American Farmers -
Waymon Hinson, PhD

3:00 Workshop – Farm Bill 2008 – Lloyd Wright and Quintin Robinson

4:30pm Continue BFAA Board Meeting

Vote on Board Officers
Action Items for 2009

5:00pm Adjourn

Contact BFAA for more information including registration fees, registration, locations, etc.

Let Us Pray

Here it is in one more place, a moving prayer.

So, once more, let us pray.




Here's another link to this grand warrior in this righteous cause of Justice.

And, here is the text of the prayer.

If you want a good summary....

If you want a good summary of the issues that Black farmers have faced and are still facing, check out this article in Colorlines by Jessica Hoffman. It's a real story about real people facing real challenges.

Save the date! 11th Annual Black Land Loss Summit, Tillery and Whitakers, North Carolina, February 20-22, 2008. More information to come!

I Was There...

I was there...watching on television, actually two televisions, in a crowded room at the Health Care Authority, reciting the Lord's Prayer with others, marveling at the moment of the Oath of Office, and reveling in what this says about America. This was history in the making. Had been for a couple of years.

I was there...not in person but in spirit. Mall. DC.

I was there...during the days of the Jim Crow South, when the n-word dripped like slime from the lips of myself, friends, and family. When there were separate bathrooms, separate drinking fountains. When there were separate entrances to the small movie theater in town, just off Main. When the Klan was out and about but only in secrecy behind masks. When color of skin clearly defined where one lived, worked, worshipped.

I was there...when a father exclaimed, "No son of mine will ever go to school with no n*****!" When a father's black friend at work sat on the front porch and drank iced tea but never came in the house. When we'd feed the "hobo's" coming up and down the line.

I was there...when we "invited" our black brothers and sisters in Christ to a gospel meeting only to have them sit in the "colored" section of that little country church. That only after much debate.

I was there...when my friends called me "n*****-lover" because a black teacher believed in me and encouraged me to reach my potential. That at a time when he was a man without a people to whom to belong. Ostracized by the white community while he taught at the "white" and now integrated school, but not really fitting any more into his black community. A man driven, so I'm told to drink. He gave me the ingenuity award on several occasions. That I still value.

I was there...when the phone rang and the attorney on the other end of the line wanted me to consult with him on behalf of black farmers.

I was there...in Louisiana, Georgia, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and North Carolina. Listening to farmers' stories of discrimination.

I was there...when students said, "I want to study with you." Four teams were formed. All making different contributions.

I was there...when the tests and trials came from people who wondered why I'd want to be there. Got flipped off. Only white face for days on end. Tormented by what I saw and heard. Still am. To this day.

I was there...when the USDA and DOJ tormented those people. Tantalizing them with hopes of a settlement and justice.

I was there...at the tomb of fallen warriors. In the rain. Holding hands. Sharing hearts. Molded by a cause. A righteous cause.

I was there...at the Land Loss Summit. Telling USDA officials and others what systemic racism does to people. They seemed surprised. I wasn't surprised that they were surprised.

I was there...today in Tillery. Friend was snowed in. Texts flying back and forth. Sent the words, "thinking of you and those you love and the cause for which you lay down your very life." Said he had a towel to dry his tears. Mine were shed more last night than today. Today was one of awe. No, I wasn't there, but I was "there." Reveling in the moment with him. Curious and amazed at what this inaugural moment must mean for him. Yearning to look at things through his eyes. And her eyes in Florida. And his eyes in Georgia. Their eyes in Dawson. There are a lot of "hims" and "hers" in the world.

I was there...in OKC, only Lincoln Blvd., with a bunch of other people who care about making the world a better place. Their tears, shouts, and emotions showed that they were "there" as well.

I will be there...praying for President Obama, First Lady Michelle, and for the First Children, Malia and Shasha. For wisdom. For courage. Stamina. For things that matter to the Lord and to me. For justice to reign. For God's Kingdom to come and for His will to be done. For the economic crisis to end. For wars to end. For jobs. Equality. An end to ceilings. Racism. Hatred.

A Grandfather's Story on Martin Luther King Day

The day started average enough. We gathered our things, drove a few miles south and east and arrived at their house. The women worked inside on things that had to do with lunch. I've not asked what their conversation was about. On the outside, the men and the grandsons grilled domestic buffalo and venison from the fall's harvest. The wind blew, and we shivered as we talked about gameboys, imaginary things, and today's political scene.

Lunch was quite a spread. A wonderful grandson's prayer, nicely grilled food, and the extras were there. The conversation was lively and interesting as it always is at that house.

Then, we moved from the dining table to the living room, and I was told, "Read this book." I knew I was in trouble. The book, Martin's Big Words, was suddenly in my hand and a lump was in my throat. Grandparents sat on the couch with grandchildren sandwiched between us. Parents observed from an adjacent chair. I turned to the first page, began to read, and then the lump in throat and tears came, and the words, "I can't read this; here, you read it." Their grandmother read the book as the boys looked on. Afterwards, for a few moments, parents and grandparents chatted with the young about the man in the book.

Then, we shifted back to the dining room table for a wonderful experience of "I Have a Dream," complete with paper, crayons, a stapler that wouldn't work correctly, and words and ideas unleashed. For me, the dream was building with the help of God and many others that for which the Chickasaw Nation had brought me here. For my wife, these childrens' grandmother, the dream was about building a Christ-like home. We all completed our dreams project. Ours are hanging on the doors open into this study.

Then, the oldest grandson was dispatched to another room to bring back the speech, not just any speech, but the words of Dr. King's "I Have A Dream" speech from the March on Washington, 1963, words which have stirred me and countless other over the last forty-five years. The young lad sat there in his seat, just to my right, reading the words I've heard many times before. I'd never heard him read them. He's so young. He reads so well, and he's reading well, words spoken that day on the Mall in DC. The tears rolled once more. Afterwards, we talked more about tears and stories and justice, and other things about making the world a better place.

So, what started out to be an amazing day honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., became an even more amazing day in one small corner of the universe. We discussed things of substance, told stories of significance, and amazed at the wisdom and creativity of the young.

Yes, Dr. King, I, too, have a dream, that someday my grandchildren's children and "little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers," and that all of God's children, every color dark or light, will know that they are loved and that their dreams can come true as well.