We are each Other’s wealth

Natalie: I came from people on my mother’s side who could see what land could do for you in terms of ownership, stewardship and a kind of financial independence. So I grew increasingly alarmed to hear stories about Black people who had land in their families and were losing that land through either the unscrupulous practices of the USDA or Heirs’ Property, or by not recognizing themselves what that land could represent. That was what pushed me in large part to explore that theme in Queen Sugar and now in this book. It was saying to our people, “Wait a minute, we have had this, this isn’t something we’re trying to attain, this is something that we have had for generations, and why aren’t we paying attention to all the things that land ownership and stewardship can mean?”

Konda: As a kid, my father was very much into the land. So, it was not like I went back to it — I never left. Even after my father left us and I was with my mother, my mother’s parents had a little farm. So I grew up on that, and we raised chickens and cows, and all of our meat. That’s what made me a vegetarian. We grew a lot of our veggies. We never had a house that didn’t have a garden, and so I was always in the garden. When I got older, I went to learn more about permaculture, and I became permaculture-certified. Every house I’ve lived in, I eat out of it. I grow food, and so I’ve always been connected to the land. On both sides of the family.

I’ve always been a serial entrepreneur working for Black people, and it’s always been in the urban environment. Now it’s like: “Okay, I feel like I’ve done that, and I feel like I’m passing that on to all the young people in Oakland, and now I need to get to the country and work with Black farmers who have no light shining on their big dilemma.” You don’t see the selfies of the USDA squashing them, so people don’t know about it. This is my work now, and I feel like I am returning to the land in a bigger way than I have ever been. 

Teju: I think it’s interesting to think of it as a returning. This past summer, I was noticing a lot of Black people starting gardens and starting to grow food. I did a little research, interviewing some people about their experiences and why they decided to start them. Almost every single person said, “You know, my grandmother always had plants in the house, or no matter where we lived she always had a garden.” It really brings that historical legacy from the South through cultural practices. 

I was wondering, Konda, if you could talk a little bit more about some of your work around transferring wealth and what you’ve learned as you returned to Mississippi to work specifically with Black farmers.

Konda: In this country, wealth is based on land and land ownership. I don’t agree with either. I believe in stewardship. We know the shenanigans that have happened with Black folks and land. As the number of acres have decreased in Black families and among Black farmers, the acreage has increased in white families. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out: the collusion between the banks, the USDA and the private sector.

There is a myth, actually a pathology, that believes that Black people are not supposed to have land. That has been the history of this country. My company, Jubilee Justice, works at the intersection of land, race, money, and spirit. There’s the journeys where we have these conversations cross-race, cross-class, cross-spirituality. We gather at a plantation to talk about capitalism, the beginning of capitalism and where it all comes from.

Very wealthy white people are in these circles, and they understand that they’re stewarding land that came from the slave economy. If it weren’t for the slave economy, this country would not be where it is, and you wouldn’t be where you are, and you wouldn’t have what you have. There’s a direct line to your wealth in the slave economy. 

What I’m seeing right now is that for white folks today the gig is up of not knowing. You can’t not know anymore, and that was their thing, “I didn’t know.” With knowing comes a cognitive dissonance of having the upside of wealth of everything that is considered good — from green spaces to good grocery stores to money in the bank. The power structure has to change from those with the money who have the power while those with the brilliant ideas who are doing all the work don’t have the power. That has to change.