BY JERRY FREIWIRTH
BATON ROUGE, Louisiana - Four hundred farmers and their
families poured into an auditorium here March 10 at Southern
University and A&M College. They came to hear details of a
proposed settlement in a class-action discrimination lawsuit
filed against the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) by
farmers who are Black.
This was the 13th such meeting held around the country in recent weeks by the plaintiffs' lawyers. It was one of the first meetings after the March 2 "fairness hearing" in federal district court in Washington, D.C.
Some 450 farmers attended that hearing. Many expressed opposition to the proposed settlement, explaining that the provisions for cash payment and debt relief are woefully inadequate and will not stop the discriminatory practices that have forced thousands of farmers off their land. Others at the Washington hearing told the presiding judge in the case that they supported the settlement, but urged that it be strengthened.
At the Baton Rouge meeting, many farmers were more generally disposed to the settlement, although some had big questions. "I think this settlement can help," said Bernard Pierre, a sugar cane farmer from New Iberia. Pierre, like many at the Baton Rouge meeting, is of French-speaking, Creole origin. "I'm not saying this will solve all our problems. The people [in the USDA] responsible for years of discrimination against Black farmers should be prosecuted. But they ain't going to do that, so what can I say?"
As farmers walked into the auditorium they were given a number and put on a list to talk to one of more than a dozen lawyers present. The lawyers organizing the meeting stopped passing numbers out after 130. The rest were told to come back for the next such meeting scheduled for April 14. Some farmers and their families had traveled considerable distances and were clearly angry about having made a wasted trip.
Alexander Pires, the lead counsel for the plaintiffs, lauded the consent decree, declaring it a "historic settlement." He made no mention of the considerable opposition voiced by farmers the week before in Washington, D.C. Nor did he mention the fact that lead plaintiff Tim Pigford, speaking on behalf of all the named plaintiffs in the case, called on the judge to overturn it.
According to Pires, 14,000 farmers have applied so far to receive compensation under the settlement. The meeting was organized so that no discussion of the consent decree would take place. Pires abruptly adjourned the meeting and farmers who had gotten numbers were ushered one-by-one to meet with a lawyer about their particular case. None of the farmers groups that have organized opposition to the settlement were visibly present at the gathering.
One of those who was told to come back was Jodie McGuire. She had traveled all the way from Chicago, where she works as a municipal bus driver after being forced to shut down her farm in Chatham, Louisiana, some years back. McGuire clutched a sheaf of documents she hoped would prove the discriminatory treatment she had received at the hands of a USDA country committee. Her family had farmed their land for generations, and she had painstakingly put together the necessary equipment so that they could begin chicken farming again. "But when it came time to get the loan," McGuire said, "the loan officer told me, `Sorry, honey, you don't know anything about raising chickens.' How dare he say that! And there was no appeal. I'll tell you, a lot of us are hurtful."
Waiting to see a lawyer, Bernard Pierre stood with a group of sugar cane farmers from the New Iberia area quietly talking among themselves. They spoke of the large number of Black farmers who have been forced off the land, in part due to the discriminatory polices of the USDA. Black farmers are losing their land at a rate two and a half times that of other farmers. "Lots of people have lost their farms, and not just their land, but their homes, too," he explained. Pierre and his friends started figuring out how many Blacks were actually farming in the towns where they live in St. Martin Parish in southwestern Louisiana. "In St. Martinville there are now only five Black farmers, and in Loreauville there is only one," Pierre said.
Reolan Anderson grows sugar cane, working alongside his two sons, on a farm just west of Lafayette. He also works as a carpenter, and his sons work part-time, nonfarm jobs, too. "It's almost impossible these days to make it without a job off the farm," he explained. Anderson pointed to the fact that the price farmers receive for their sugar cane crop has not increased more than a few pennies since 1991. But farmers' costs for seed, fertilizer, insecticides, and the like have increased sharply over the same years. "I bring my cane to the Patou-Jeanerette sugar mill. As payment for processing the crop, the mill takes anywhere from 43-51 percent of its value," he added.
Anderson strongly supports the class-action suit against the USDA, telling how Black farmers in the region regularly received their loans so late that they were unable to buy the necessary material for a successful crop. He is still weighing the adequacy of the proposed consent decree. "But one thing is for sure," Anderson said, "the choice for most of us is to be driven out of farming or to fight back. For me, I have no intention of walking away."
Jerry Freiwirth is a member of Paper, Allied-Industrial, Chemical and Energy Workers Union Local 4-367 in Pasadena, Texas.