Recently I had the pleasure of attending and speaking at the Nebraska Women in Agriculture Conference. Having attended many women in agriculture events, I can assure you, this event is absolutely “Top 3” of the Women in Ag events put on across the nation.
As with most Women in Ag events, there is a measure of transparency across both attendees and speakers. This event started with a talented speaker who encouraged women to remember the hardships of 2019. Remember them, for we will tell future generations about the overcome obstacles—blizzards, floods, lost livestock, lost acres, horrific planting conditions, less than ideal growing conditions and a harvest that extended into the next calendar year.
In a calendar year that saw so many turbulent events within agriculture, we were reminded to see the good. See the good in ourselves and in others. She then went on to encourage, asking us to see each other’s (and our spouses) sacrifices with gratitude, versus “Oh Lord, why me?”
She encouraged us to dig deep and find ways to serve others. (Yes, even that person who has done nothing but wrongs to us.) And finally we were challenged to think of ways that we might be holding back from extending grace to others. (Yep. Even me. Guilty.) She said we needed to focus on three things: Trust. Grace. Hope.
At the end of this opening hour of a two-day Women in Ag event I found myself vulnerable, tearing up, receiving grace, and ready to extend grace. I thought of my family, thought of clients who were still reeling in emotional and mental hurt from all of the crud that 2019 brought to the farm. I thought of my 10-year-old son, who picked, “So God Made a Farmer” to use as his very first school forensics recitation. Had I done enough to explain to him the magnitude of those words he was reciting? I weep every time he recites it. He just knows the words are impactful.
He hasn’t lived through the hardships of agriculture. He knows his parents love agriculture; Mom works with farmers to help manage commodity price risk. Dad works for a large cheese company in Wisconsin. We love agriculture, so he does too. Yet, should I be doing more?
At this first hour of the conference, I was holding back tears, but the floodgates wanted to run. 2019 was an incredibly hard year for agriculture. My mind raced and shifted gears. Suddenly instead I focused on the importance of “telling your story.” I smirked. I told my story in early December.
Imagine this: My husband and I were celebrating our 15-year wedding anniversary in Jamaica. Blissfully lost in the beauty of the scenery and the moment, we made conversation with others staying at our resort. Another couple was there from the northern Plains. They were a younger farming couple. After a day or two of simple interactions, and after this particular gentleman had endured enough rum punch, he stared me down and said that because I didn’t come specifically from a farm, that I knew nothing of agriculture. I bit my tongue hard. Hard. Really hard.
I chose to extend grace. Rather than cuss him out (my husband was ready to step in, but I put up “the hand” of “I got this”), I shared my story. My story of humble beginnings. How my dad was an end user of corn and soybeans for the dry dogfood that we made in our backyard. How my dad would buy the corn and soybeans from his uncles. How his uncles farmed and ran a grain elevator. How I got to see production agriculture from start to finish. How I got to see the grain that was grown in my backyard, get harvested, get delivered to our business, become dogfood, and turn into a product that was sold into the community.
I then shared how my family dealt with not being ready for the corn price to trade from $2 all the way up to $5 in the mid-1990s. How that price move event affected our family and the business. I shared my story with such passion and conviction that this guy was in tears by the end of it, and he apologized to me the next day. Was I rude to him? No. Did I try to suggest that my story was more important than his story? No.
I simply shared my story—that I had an understanding of where he was coming from. That I know that living a life in agriculture has highs and lows. That as people in agriculture we daily need to trust God. We need to both receive grace and show grace to others. We need to believe in the hope of tomorrow.
As a woman in agriculture … as a human in agriculture … stand tall. Tell your story. The angst of 2019 is behind us. Trust in your future; the crop will get planted, the livestock will be tend to, the growing season will be better than last year. Receive grace, so that we can then extend that grace to others within and outside of the circle of agriculture. And finally hold steadfast to hope; it is what generations before us have clung to in times of strife. Their hope allowed them to persevere in the hard times of farming, and is what makes American agriculture the amazing force that it is today.
Be strong. Trust. Know grace. Have hope.
Editor’s note: Naomi Blohm is a marketing advisor with Total Farm Marketing by Stewart-Marketing and she is a regular contributor to the Iowa Public Television series “Market to Market.” She can be reached at [email protected].
