My wife often reminds me that I’m not living in the same world of my childhood. In that world, most everyone I knew was either raised on a farm or no farther removed from farming than one generation. In other words, everyone I came into contact with, on a daily basis, knew what farmers did and how they lived.
Today, less than 2 percent of the American people are engaged in farming. The vast majority of the population is, at the least, three generations removed from knowing anyone who is or was a farmer. As a result, most people don’t have the slightest idea of how we earn a living and, as my wife puts it, “They don’t care, either, as long as the supermarket is stocked with food they can afford.”
This fact often amuses me when we receive visits from city-dwelling relatives or the obligatory ‘drop-ins’ from city friends 14 days before deer season, who were “just passing by and wondered if I’d care if they bring their son out to do a little deer hunting in a couple of weeks?”
As they ride around with me in the truck, they will undoubtedly ask such inane questions as, “What’s that bull’s name?”
I try to act cordial when I reply, “That COW’s name is number 86.”
They are also amazed when they find out that my medium-sized tractor cost quite a lot more than their BMW 7 series, luxury sedan. They are even more stunned when they learn that my neighbor’s new combine cost more than their four-bedroom, three bath, split level ranch, nestled in the nicer part of town. Then, they try to rationalize my expenses by laughing and saying things like, “Well, at least you’re making a lot of money, based on what I have to pay for a gallon of milk at the grocery.” I just nod, knowing how futile it would be to explain that we’ve been driving through a herd of BEEF cows.
I used to be saddened by the fact that people don’t understand farming anymore, but I realize that I don’t really understand what a professional plumber goes through. I’m pretty sure that he gets emergency calls in the middle of the night and works in less than desirable conditions as well. I don’t fully appreciate the stress on a medical doctor, the toils and tribulations of the UPS delivery person, the financial pressures on the feed store owner, or the loss the convenience store operator faces every time someone drives off without paying. Every occupation has its upside and downside, but as I told my wife the other night, “At least we still have our image.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, “When nobody knows what you do?”
I assured her that farmers, in fact, still have the image of honest, hard-working, salt-of-the-earth people who can be trusted – no matter what. Skeptical, she asked if I could prove that statement.
Since it is the height of election season, I pointed out the next 23 political commercials that ran on TV that evening and every single one of them showed at least one snapshot of the candidate standing: with a farmer in front of his tractor, with a farmer as he fed his cattle, with a farmer in his cornfield, with a farmer in a cowboy hat, with a farmer in a John Deere cap, with a farmer at a Farm Bureau meeting, or as a part-time farmer himself.
“Well,” Judy concluded, “you may be right, but if you guys keep having your pictures made with politicians, even that image will eventually fade.”
Jerry Crownover farms in Lawrence County. He is a former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University, and is an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry, go to ozarksfn.com and click on ‘Contact Us.’
