In Solidarity with Buffalo
A Note from Common Good City Farm
Common Good City Farm, our Board, Staff, and Volunteers stand in support of the people of East Buffalo in the wake of the horrible white supremacist terrorism enacted upon that community. Even as this atrocious incident unfolded, we know that generations of disinvestment in Black and Brown communities led to the lack of grocery options in East Buffalo, resulting in the opportunity of one white terrorist to murder so many innocent Black and Brown people in one place. It draws similarities to the food justice struggles in our city, with the perpetual disinvestment in Wards 7 and 8, and the very limited grocery options available there. It is a reminder that violence like this can and does happen right here at home.
The horrific rise of white supremacist terrorism and rhetoric in our country and beyond is appalling enough. But the generations of violence perpetrated upon Black and Brown communities coupled with this extremism create even more vicious consequences that we continue to see playing out around us.
We uplift the voices of the Buffalo Food Equity Network and its partners by calling on our supporters to work for political change that will end the violence against Black and Brown people in this country. As disenfranchised citizens in Washington, DC, it is easy to feel our voices don’t matter in the greater political system of the United States.
But we still have a responsibility to stand with other communities throughout our nation in demanding change. Today, we ask you to support Black-led food justice organizations in Buffalo. Tomorrow, we will carry on with our work fighting food apartheid here in DC.
- Common Good City Farm staff
Image Credit: Jen White Johnson and Soul Fire Farm
Letter from the Executive Director
When a staff member first asked me to write something about the shooting at the Tops grocery store in Buffalo, New York, I found myself at a loss for words. I'm grateful for the staff who challenge me to make public statements, even as I often struggle to balance my role as a white woman in leadership with my responsibility to uplift the voices of People of Color.
Whether we have the "right" words or not, we do not have the luxury of saying nothing. In these moments of despair, I find myself returning to the works of civil rights leaders, revolutionaries, and community organizers--the folks who get up every day and work to rid the world of white terrorism, racism, and injustice. I turn most often to a quote from the Reverend James Reeb, who was murdered in Selma, Alabama, for his support of voting rights for Black Americans. In his last sermon delivered at All Souls Church on 16th Street, just up the street from where the farm is now, he pulled no punches with a mostly white congregation struggling to find its social justice voice. He said,
““We are going to have to really take upon ourselves a continuing and disciplined effort, with no real hope that in our lifetime we’re going to be able to take a vacation from the struggle for justice.””
I worry for our staff, for our customers and neighbors, and for the children who play in the park next to the farm. Will they be next? If not in my lifetime, can they see change in theirs?
It is exhausting to do this again—even more so for our siblings of color. And it is so, so important to continue to name this epidemic for what it is: Terrorism, white supremacy, and racism. "White replacement theory" is racist. The banning of critical race theory is racist. It is obvious that every white person who picks up a gun to 'defend' the structures of white supremacy is racist, but so too are those who deflect the underlying reasons for these acts of terrorism by calling them "mental health problems" or "legitimate concerns but inappropriate actions." So too are those who advocate for police in our schools, for trying youth as adults in the criminal justice system. Those who hold their own families close while watching others' families torn apart by systems of injustice and white supremacy. Those who send "thoughts and prayers" while they do nothing tangible.
Every time this happens, we lose a little bit more of our humanity as we become desensitized to violence. We must seek to restore that humanity. Hold your children close, your friends, your family. But hold close, too, the families of others because empathy is the marker of our humanity. When we care as much about every child/parent/friend/elder as we do about our own, maybe then we can push the boulder a little bit higher up on the mountain of justice.
This was more than I planned to write, but it seems to have poured out of me. Perhaps it's because I'm expecting my own child this summer, and that child will be Black. To my siblings of color: we know this is unacceptable and that only through our actions can we show the truth of our characters. To my fellow white people: It's never too late to start the continued and disciplined effort to support a world in which events like this are unfathomable. If you need help getting started, reach out. There are plenty of allies to support you in your journey. Show your character and commitment to justice through your actions, and stand ready to answer the calls of People of Color leading the charge.
- Sam
