Campus foray: Farmer talks with studentsPhoto:Jim Wallace

On the impact of his undergraduate years

farmer: The last time I was here at Duke, a number of people asked me, "How did you end up doing what you are doing?" And I said, "Well, I can't answer for the others who do this work, but I can tell you that I got started on this road as an undergraduate." All of it: Haiti, medicine, medical anthropology, social-justice work. It all started for me right here. And I really only wanted to come here after I saw the place. I said, "This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. I want to go here." And I'm not sure that I even bothered applying anywhere else.

I told Tracy --we had this long discussion, "Would he write this book? Would he not?" And he said, "Well, how did you get involved in this?" And I said, "Well, when I was at Duke I met a bunch of patients who were migrant farm workers, and I--it was very compelling to me." And most people would just be polite and say, "Oh, that's interesting." But he would say, "In what way compelling?" And I'd say, "Well, I mean, I thought that their working conditions were terrible." He said, "Well, compared to what?" And I said, "Well, I don't know. I mean, they were living in all these crowded quarters and in buses. And there were slavery charges brought against the growers that year--1981." He said, "Slavery charges?" I said, "Yeah, slavery charges." And I said, "You know, I wrote an article about this." He said, "Did you now?"

kidder: I never said "Did you now?" [Laughter]

farmer: Well, something along those lines. So, he, you know, being a researcher, decides he's going to find out whether I really wrote an article about this. And he found it.... And you told me it was how many words long?

kidder: 13,000--something like that.

farmer: It was very long. And it was called "Haitians Without a Home." It wasn't in The Chronicle, because The Chronicle has strict deadlines. It was in Aeolis or Tobacco Road, one of those publications. And so, I looked back at that fifteen, twenty years later, and I thought, Well, you see, there is some coherence in life. There are claims of causality that one might make. And so, that's why I'm addressing you undergraduates--you freshmen--tonight.

On using privilege wisely

farmer: This is a really fantastic time in a fantastic place. It's not a good time in the world, I don't think. I just came from Haiti where a natural disaster, which we all know to be completely not a natural disaster, just killed a couple of thousand people. There are other natural disasters occurring in our land around us. And so, I don't think it's a great time for the world. And I've been thinking a lot about it as a doctor and as an anthropologist: What is it, really, that's happening in the early twenty-first century?

And I'm not really optimistic or happy about that. But, I'm optimistic and happy about you and this place and other places like it. Islands of decency.

Duke may be in a forest of 8,000 acres, and you may be able to live in your own self-contained world as I did when I was an undergraduate here. I never ventured into Durham.

You know, find out about the rest of the world while you're here. While you have this protected time. Find out about the rest of North Carolina. Find out about sub-Saharan Africa and Central America and the rest of the great world. Find out about power and how it works. We're in a very dicey time.

The Haitians believe that we Americans have unprecedented and perhaps unmerited power. I mean, largely unmerited power, but there you have it. And I hope to spend some of the time I have left here talking to students and recommending that, regardless of what path they take--and many of you will go into law or medicine or teaching or do graduate programs of some sort--that they make sure to take a measure of our privilege and decide how to use it wisely. Thank you.

[The discussion is opened to the audience for questions]

audience member: I'm a junior here. And I didn't actually get to read your book. So, frankly, I don't know a whole lot about you. But--

farmer: It's not my book. I don't care.