For most kids, summer means full on fun, no school, family vacation, and trips to the pool. Thinking back to my youth in the 1990s and early 2000s, I loved summer, but my younger self always thought it came with a hefty price that I had to pay—filling out the dreaded 4-H record book.
These books were yearly accounts of a 4-H member’s involvement in the club, projects they undertook, leadership positions held, and lessons learned. They were judged in the fall and awards and medals were given out based on the contents of these books. They were due every summer and I just hated writing in them.
It felt so unfair to me, I was supposed to be riding my horse, traveling and enjoying these months out of school. The sun was out, and I was stuck inside—a cruel summer indeed. Writing in those books felt like homework that my mom—a teacher—was assigning to me. It just wasn’t right and very few of my friends were sentenced to this level of punishment.
My mom was the prison warden, and it felt like I was chained to the kitchen table for a week with an erasable pen in my hand, being forced to articulate my 4-H projects and what I learned. Do I sound dramatic? Because I absolutely was.
Now when I look through these books present-day—there are about five of them, one for each year I was active in 4-H—I don’t know why I complained so much. There is a maximum of about 20 pages per book and some of those pages are just photos with captions. At the time it felt like a never-ending task, but it wasn’t. Now when I flip through them, I enjoy revisiting my youth, looking at pictures of a young me and trying to decode my wonky handwriting.
It’s either ironic or hysterical—I’m not sure which—that I fought all those summers to get out of writing in those books—and here I am a journalist, writing for a living now. The 10-year-old version of me would have never thought of these books as treasures that were well-worth the time, but they sure were and I’m glad my mother made me complete them.
Twenty-five years ago, I probably told myself I would never force my children to fill out one of the books, but here I am putting them in my future plans for my son when he is old enough to join the club. I just hope he enjoys it more than I did.
Life is full of tasks we don’t want to take on, procrastinate or suffer through. But so many times the undertakings we detest the most have payoffs we can enjoy for years to come. The moral of the story is do the work, put in the time and push through your cruel summer; there are great things to come when you finish.
Lacey Vilhauer can be reached at 620-227-1871 or [email protected].
