USDA's Civil Rights Chief to Leave

Parker Says Weekly Commute to Arizona to Be With His Family Prompted Resignation

By Darryl Fears
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, January 20, 2006; A15

In the end, it was the commute that got to Vernon Parker, the embattled civil rights director at the Department of Agriculture.

He was flying home to Paradise Valley, Ariz., every week, piling up debt on credit cards to support his wife, Lisa, in her battle with breast cancer and to give his son Ian, 12, a rare bear hug at the airport.

"It's hard to have a commuter family," he said.

The job was no joy either. So in December, Parker resigned and will leave the post at the beginning of next month.

Parker, 47, has his share of supporters who said he did an outstanding job in fighting bigotry at an agency, dubbed "the last plantation" by critics, that was found in a landmark court case to have victimized farmers.

"Vernon did a commendable job in the short time he was there," said Clinton Bristow Jr., president of Alcorn State University, a 1,700-acre Mississippi agriculture and mechanical school that is so remote it grows its own food.

"Vernon has opened doors. . . . It has led to outcomes, grant opportunities for our universities. We were also able to get increased appropriations in programs that help small farmers," Bristow said.

Parker also has detractors, especially among black farmers, who say he lacked the political backbone to help them in their fight against what many black farmer organizations call historic and ongoing discrimination at USDA.

"I actually lobbied for that office," John Boyd, president of the National Association of Black Farmers, said of the civil rights office. "I really didn't see a whole lot of progress. I think he came in underrating the position. I didn't think he saw what he could do and what he couldn't do with that office."

As he leaves, one thing Parker cannot say. He cannot say that he was not forewarned during his Senate confirmation hearing that he was taking a hot seat.

The Republican was nominated to be the first-ever USDA civil rights director by President Bush in 2003, shortly after black farmers seized a USDA regional office in Brownsville, Tenn., to protest how slowly their loans were processed compared with white farmers'.

At least once a year during Parker's tenure, farmer pickets called for the ouster of Secretary Ann M. Veneman. She left last year for unrelated reasons.

Parker and his supporters said he rose to the challenge at the USDA. He helped restructure the county committee system of farmers who steer federal money into farming programs.

The Rural Coalition, which at first questioned how much an Arizona lawyer knew about farming and discrimination, later gave grudging praise to Parker for his willingness to meet face-to-face and hear people out.

Parker said that is one of his finest accomplishments. He said he is also proud of installing a federal register of minority farmers so the USDA can track their progress or failure. He initiated a customer complaint card, which was necessary because perceived discrimination is so widespread that many nonwhite farmers are afraid to go into the county extension offices, which are often run by white men.

"A lot of people ask me why do I want to leave now when we have turned so much around," Parker said.

But others are more than willing to wave goodbye. Boyd said few black farmers have been compensated since winning a 1999 court settlement against the government worth tens of billions of dollars.

The USDA has rejected black farmer claims to the settlement by the file cabinet full, at a rate of 90 percent, according to a two-year investigation by the Environmental Working Group. Boyd said Parker lacked the political will to get more claims approved.

Boyd said Parker should have publicly taken on the powerful Farm Service Agency, where federal loans that can save or doom farms are applied for, processed and submitted for approval.

In Parker's defense, others say that black farmers are bitter victims who cannot be appeased. Discrimination is cited as a factor that reduced their numbers from a high of 1 million near the turn of the last century to about 15,000 today.

Answering Boyd, Parker said: "I've had so many people chewing at my backbone that I don't have any left. Anyone who saw what I did would say that it took backbone to do it. That's the last comment that I would expect from anyone."

Bristow, again, was supportive: "He didn't let these issues sit on the corner of his desk and not be moved to the center of his desk."

Parker is a native of Long Beach, Calif., and a graduate of the Georgetown Law Center. His only experience with farming was visits to a Louisiana farm where his grandfather bloodied his hands from everyday hard work.

He came into the agriculture job with little knowledge of the agency, but said that was good because he was unaware of many of the roadblocks that might have deterred others.

The work was good, he said, but the commute to Arizona was overwhelming.

"My departure is solely to be with my family," he said.