In the present, looking at the past, peering into the future

It was an interesting Sunday evening that consisted of Charla's world famous breakfast casserole for dinner, lively conversation, and "The Great Debaters."

We watched the movie as the evening light faded, a good thing because it allowed all of us to hide our emotions at the intense moments of the movie, and there were several. For me the first was when the young woman from Wiley College spoke passionately to the audience about integration, that the time "is always now," out in the middle of of the pasture with the church's tent shielding the listeners from the sun. The second one was the lynching scene. Too unspeakable to attempt to describe. The third was young Farmers' presentation in the hall on the Harvard Campus.

We laughed at lot because one of our number has numerous friends and acquaintances who were extras in the movie, and her college band played in the sound track of the movie.

For all of us, it was a riveting look back at Jim Crow, lynchings, racism, and people of immense courage. The prof who was a teacher and coach by day and an activist for the Southern Tenants Farmers Union by night, risking life and limb for a cause. The students who slowly grabbed hold of the idea that they could and should stand up, speak up, and shout out words of freedom and liberation before audiences large and small.

For me, it was a retrospective into the things I've been reading and studying, teaching, and writing about over the last few years.

For me also was the realization that three of the next generation of activists were sitting in our living room......

Now that stirs me deeply, more deeply than I have words to express.

Story from Arkansas

Check out this video:

Living life in post-Pigford

Few people would say that the Pigford Consent Decree was just. Some would say that it unnecessarily spent money on Black farmers. Others say that it was too little too late. Others say that attorneys got what farmers should have gotten. All in all, at best, it was a mixed effort. Here's a link that summarizes the effort. Here's a link that spells it all out in great detail. And, here's one more link that summarizes more complications of the suit as of July, 2008. Finally, here's an article that puts the Consent Decree within its larger context of African Americans and Black farmers.

So, now that the 2008 Farm Bill has been settled, now that we know that there's $100,000,000 minimum to settle grievances with the 73,000 Black farmers who were denied access to Pigford, now that we're in the middle of an election year, and now that our nation's Black farmers are settling in to various law suits, how do we know that things are going to get settled any differently? We can only work, hope, and pray for justice this time around.

In a previous post, I gave a shout out to a county south of Birmingham, AL in which close to 1,000 farmers never received information about Pigford. At this point, I'm also wondering about how the Black farmers of our country who were denied access in 1999 will find out about what's going on on their behalf in 2008. As for me and my house, there'll be calls made to various and sundry Black farmers to make sure that they know and to make sure that they're letting their friends know. No one in the USA should be kept out of the loop of this thing.

Here's one more link that briefly summarizes these important matters.

Here they are.....Team IV

Here are the good people who have formed Social Justice Team IV here at Abilene Christian University and the Department of Marriage and Family Therapy. Justice is important to them, matters of faith course through their veins, and making the world a better place for all is what they hang their hats on. A little hyperbolic? Likely, but, frankly, I'm excited about the ideas that are being tossed about these days by this group of students, and pleased to be walking alongside them. So, here are Ty, Ruqayyah, and Daniel. You may remember that Ruqayyah and Ty attended the Black Land Loss Summit in Whitakers and Tillery, NC back in February, 2008. More will be posted about them under justice teams over the next few days along with the direction of our work. Thanks to Jeff Emery for the photography.

Meet Harry Young

Several years ago I met Harry Young at a black land loss conference in Memphis. Then, in November, 2007, my wife and I ventured up to Frankfort, Kentucky to march on his behalf. Just a few weeks back, he spoke at a national whistleblower conference in Washington, DC.

Here is Mr. Young in his own words:

I Just Wonder.....

Over the last two or three years I've read some interesting accounts by authors who have pursued their lineage that led back ultimately to the plantations of this country and the intersection of blacks and whites, of slaves and masters. One, Slaves in the Family, was especially intriguing, and another, The Hairstons: An American Family in Black and White, was good as well. Would recommend both.

Over the weekend, I watched an interesting documentary of the same sort. David Wilson, an African American from a rough city background goes off in search of his ancestry, and along the way meets David Wilson, Caucasian BBQ entrepreneur from North Carolina. Each can trace his roots back to the Wilson plantation. They meet talk, discuss race, reparations, slavery, and current views on these matters. Here's the link to it.

For several years now, in a personal way, I've wondered similar things. What would it be like to meet people of color that my people once owned. Several sides of my family are as vanilla as vanilla can get, but on one particular side, there was at least what looks like an "upper middle class" family during the early to mid-1800s in the South. This particular family owned property, farmed, and preached. And, they owned several slaves, persons whose names are in my family ancestry files. While my last name is not the same as the slave-owning folks' surname, still, the lineage is unmistakably there.

So, I've often fantasized about meeting African Americans whose name rings throughout my family tree. I wonder what it would be like to meet Black Jeffcoats who could trace their history back to Swansea, Orangeburg County, South Carolina. I wonder what those conversations would sound like. Would there be "leftovers" that would have to be deconstructed. Would there be rage of some sort? Would there be tears?

There are indeed Jeffcoats who are African American, and they come from that area of the country.

Any of you have these experiences? If so, I'd like to hear from you.

I do hope to meet them some day. Until then, I'll just wonder.

Seems like yesterday....

At the end of December, 2004, when the snow had made the area in Abilene where I live a winter play land, while out jogging one morning, I made a decision to write my grandsons each day, to reflect on things like running, life events, relationships, etc. That commitment was something I kept religiously. Here, then, is a part of a letter written on June 28, 2005 (hopefully they won't mind this one peek into their letters), one of the most memorable days of walking alongside advocates and farmers in this righteous cause. So, three years later, here are the words I penned to two children that day.

"We arrived in Raleigh, NC on Monday night after leaving you in Ada early Monday morning. We drove to OKC, took a flight to KC, MO, and then much to our surprise, we had to fly to Baltimore, MD in order to get down to NC. That was long, long, long, long. Then we found our way to the hotel, a nice one by the way, and then had dinner and bought a potted plant for the grave of a deceased farmer and his wife.

Then, yesterday morning, we were up and out early, something like up at 5:00 am our time and out to drive to Tillery, NC at 6:00 our time. We go there in plenty of time and just drove through the area.

Then at 10:30 things began to pop. We met the Black Farmer president, heard the history of the Tillery community, watched a video of the group that meets in the community center, met several kids and a bunch of adults, and then set off on an amazing lunch meeting. We sang, prayed, and read scripture like it was church, except that all the participants, and all the people at the meeting, except for your Mema and Poppie, were African Americans. We were the only white faces we saw all day long.

We had a great lunch, did a silly exercise led by an elderly, retired teacher, and then the farmer president asked Poppie and Mema to speak. That’s called an impromptu speech. Mema was amazing, and I’d called mine 'adequate,' but she’d give it higher marks. Mema had the crowd crying about her story of interviewing a Black soldier who fought in WWII. She was on, definitely on.

They gave us a cake for our 35th anniversary and sang over us.

We then talked and visited until thunder clouds came up, so we moved our activities out to the farm and the place where a farmer couple is buried. I had asked for permission to place flowers at the grave site, and the farmer president and his family said yes, and several community people came. It was raining, but we all had umbrellas, and we sang, said some words, quoted some scripture, and took a lot of photos. A lot of people spoke kind thoughts toward Mema and Poppie, and about the deceased farmer and his wife.

Grandchildren, I cannot begin to speak to you of how deeply moving that experience was. To say a few words over the fallen warriors who fought the good fight for the freedom to farm the land, to place flowers at their tomb, and to be received graciously by their family and friends all speak to the generosity of people who come together for a common cause.

Afterwards, we went to the farmer couple’s house, talked, ate, drank water or cokes, and sat under the awning and laughed and told stories. I really liked Gary, the young man who’s graduated with a degree in English from ECU; PJ, the tall, tall, tall young man who’s just graduated and going to school in RI to study cryogenics; Raymond, the retired police officer who came home to Tillery, who may be related to me through our common Cherokee heritage from Orangeburg; Gary Grant, the NBFAA president; and his extended family.

So, this morning as I sit in the semi-dark at the motel in Rocky Mount, I am filled with awe, wonder, and praise. It’s a long, long way from West Texas to Tillery, NC, but the human spirit of grace and peace connects them both. In the words of John Denver, 'In the eyes of all the people, the look is much the same; the first one is the last one when you play a deadly game.' He was talking about nuclear war, but the 'deadly game' I’m talking about is racism, a game that destroys all of us, those doing it and those receiving it."

Yes, that was an amazing day with an amazing group of people. Thanks for reading these words as I've attempted to describe it.