Reflections on the Justice for Black Farmers Act

I grew up in Chicago, far from any farms, but where redlining and the white flight of the 50s and 60s shed light on how varied forms of violence continued to gatekeep land ownership to the detriment of Black Americans. When beatings, lynchings, violence and intimidation were not enough, white families rapidly vacated any neighborhoods that Black families were –against all odds–able to integrate. Discriminatory lending and mortgage practices saw our communities confined to specific areas, in which racist policies further ensured public resources and service delivery was cut off to those same areas. Practices that effectively and violently stripped Black urban communities of any access to resources or opportunities for generations. 

Source: The Atlantic

When I went to university to study political science, and later development, I found the majority of academic and political discussion around land ownership and property rights tends to focus on the developing world. Yet here in the US, 98% of Black agricultural land owners have been dispossessed of 12 million acres of land over the last century. Land ownership and transfer has a long, problematic history across the continental Americas, but particularly for Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) communities in the United States. Indigenous Americans were the first community to be violently displaced from the land, primarily to make way for intensive production of cash crops that relied entirely on the  brutal, forced labor and livelihoods of enslaved Africans. While the retreat of the Confederacy and Emancipation carried a promise of land for freed slaves, President Andrew Johnson rolled back every attempt to grant land (or any other form of economic remuneration) to Black people. President Johnson’s destructive mandate would continue to serve as the basis for systemic displacement of Black farm owners. Despite efforts among Black communities to maintain and increase agricultural land ownership, violence has been consistently deployed to expel Black farmers from their land.

“ Representation and insight at the beginning of the supply chain, is access further down the line. ”

This history of stripping Black communities –both urban and rural –of land and resources was brought to the forefront of my mind with the introduction of the Justice for Black Farmers Act to Congress. The new bill outlines a host of measures geared toward creating opportunities for Black farmers to reclaim land and pushing institutions to reverse centuries-long discrimination. The revolutionary part of this bill is not in the creation of land grants or the initiation of land transfers, which are measures that have been taken multiple times in the last two centuries. Instead, the bill is unique in its serious effort to tackle one of the hardier branches of systemic racism that has been one of the main contributors to the racial wealth gap. When we think of a wealth gap, images of material or monetary prosperity often come to mind. And while that is relevant, displacement of Black Americans has fueled a wealth gap that goes deeper than cash-in-pocket. Wealth is about resources and access that enables communities to protect themselves from vulnerability and exposure.

Banished is a documentary revisiting communities where Black families were violently displaced during Reconstruction

Even though this bill is geared toward breaking down barriers in rural, agricultural areas, I can’t help but see the relevance to my family’s experience in the city. Chicago has one of the most pervasive food desert problems in the country, a problem that affects Black communities disproportionately. It’s also a problem that mimics a pattern seen throughout the country. Black, Latino, and Native American communities are up to four times more likely than whites to lack access to quality, nutritious foods. The ends of our supply chains – grower and consumer, urban and rural – are often seen as two separate entities, but they are inseparable. Not only are they tied together in their histories of displacement and dispossession, but they are also bound by the key role they play in showing us the importance of representation and access. Representation and insight at the beginning of the supply chain, is access further down the line. 

As we continue to reflect upon which measures will increase food security and the sustainability of farming practices here at home, we must center equality and antiracism measures in those conversations. The Justice for Black Farmers Act is only the first step in creating this kind of reform. If we continue to leave displaced farmers of color out of the equation, then we will only solve problems for a few, not for all. Sustainability and food security without equity will protect few and increase vulnerability for most. 

Sources

Mother Jones: “Black Farmers Have Been Robbed of Land. A New Bill Would Give Them A ‘Quantum Leap’ Toward Justice”, Tom Philpott

Mother Jones: “White People Own 98% of Rural Land. Young Black Farmers Want to Reclaim Their Share”, Tom Philpott

The Atlantic: “The Great Land Robbery: The shameful story of how 1 million Black farmers have been ripped from their farms”, Van R. Newkirk III

Center for Social Inclusion

The Color of Money: Black Banks and the Racial Wealth Gap by Mehrsa Baradaran