What I Wish People Knew About Raising Cattle

            Most people have a romanticized idea of what farming looks like.  I think it probably looks a lot like Old McDonald’s farm, with the cattle and sheep roaming through green pastures, the pigs in their sty, and chickens, dogs and cats wandering around the yard.  However, after spending my entire life living and working on a farm, I can tell you that I have never seen a set-up like Old McDonald’s.

Don’t get me wrong,  I think our cows are definitely content and happy, but Old McDonald’s farm is a fantasy.  We live in reality, because we experience day in and day out, the highs and lows of raising livestock for a living.  The general public has an idealized version, because they don’t get to see what it takes to keep a farm operating daily.  

What I wish people knew about raising cattle is that there are no vacations.  I can count a total of two family vacations that we took when I was growing up.  Taking time off meant finding someone we trusted to care for our animals.  It meant leaving our livelihood in someone else’s hands for a week at the most.  Even when you’re at the waterpark in the Wisconsin Dells, you’re constantly wondering if you told your replacement for the week everything they needed to know.  You want to make sure that they keep an eye on that one calf that you thought was sounding weezy the last time you were in the pasture.  It doesn’t matter if you’re physically in another state, because mentally your mind is always thinking of what is happening on the farm.  

There are no sick days either, because when that one cow, that always gets out, ends up in your yard, yet again, and you’re the only one home you have to get her back in.  Nevermind the fact that you were too sick to go to school and it’s raining so hard that you’ll eventually end up with pneumonia, you go outside, put her where she belongs, and fix the fence.  

What I wish people knew about raising cattle, is that life is never fair and death is just another part of the circle of life.  When you stay up all night trying to get the bull calf that was born in the middle of a blizzard warmed up in your laundry room and he finally starts to liven up, you count your blessings.  When he dies the next afternoon, you wipe away the tears and move on, knowing you’ll get the next one.  Nobody sees your frustration when three perfectly healthy calves suddenly go down in the barn lot and the vet tells you there’s nothing he can do to treat hypothermia.  That he’s already talked to several of your neighbors and everybody is losing livestock as the polar vortex starts to move in.  When the weatherman forecasts a windchill of -40 degrees and tells everybody it’s too dangerous to be outside for longer than 5 minutes, most people get to spend their days curled up on their couch or toasty warm in their offices.  Farmers, however, are pulling on Carhartt’s and 15 different layers, getting ready to spend an hour breaking up ice in water tanks because the water heaters can’t keep up with the wind.  Then, they get to go inside for a bit, just to repeat the process all over again, a couple hours later.      

Yes, there are days that seem like nothing else can go wrong, but if I had not grown up on a farm, I would never have seen a newborn calf walk for the very first time or know exactly where a cow likes to be scratched.  I wish I could describe what I felt the first time I was able to get the premature calf living in our laundry room to take a bottle on his own, after spending 3 days tube feeding him because his jaw just wasn’t strong enough yet.  I wish they could be there every time a new calf is born or get to watch the calves play in the barnyard on a sunny, warm day.  

I like to think that my farm is better than the idealized version that most people have in their heads, mostly because it’s real.  We aren’t stuck in the past, and we’re constantly looking for new technology and ways to update our methods.  We believe there is always room for improvement.  The cattle in my barn aren’t just dollar signs, they’re living beings for which I am responsible.  What I wish people knew about raising cattle is that it’s not just a job, it’s a way of life.  

An Open Letter to the Future Wife of Prince Farming

An Open Letter to the Future Wife of Prince Farming

I want to begin this letter acknowledging the fact that I know you have received a lot of criticism from Iowans, specifically those of us involved in agriculture.  Quite honestly, at the beginning of this season, I was a skeptic.  Iowa’s agricultural community put a lot of faith in The Bachelor, hoping that for once a major reality TV show might realistically depict our lifestyles.  However, the first few episodes showed scenes of women in bikinis racing what are considered giant lawnmowers here in Iowa (a real green and yellow tractor is about five times bigger) and what seemed to be some alcoholic tendencies.  One contestant commented during the premiere that “there are more women here than there are in Iowa” when the room contained about 20 other contestants.  For future reference, I grew up in a house with four women and have two roommates who are also female, which means I know almost a third of the women in Iowa.  Apparently, we are a dying breed here in the Midwest.  The Iowa Data Center might disagree though.  According to them, women make up over 50 percent of Iowa’s population.  The ignorance displayed by many of the contestants was disheartening.

 

Regardless, I’m not writing this to pile on more disapproval, but to welcome you.  Iowa sits dead center in the middle of America.  We have a long, rich agricultural history and your future husband is part of a long list of others who have dedicated their lives to the land.   Eventually, this list will include you and your children, because as someone whose entire life revolves around agriculture, I can tell you that once you get drawn in, you will never leave.  However, many of us will never be as lucky as Chris and make it back to the farm after we earn our college degrees.  

Right now, the most important question within our industry is: who will take over and be the next generation of producers?  As of 2012, over 62 percent of U.S. farmers were 55 years old or older.  This means that over half of our farmers are reaching or have reached retirement age.  Many will never retire, farming well into their golden years, either because they refuse to stop, or because there is no one to take over cultivating their life’s work.  Quite frankly, it is hard for many young farmers to get started.  Less than 22 percent can turn a profit in their first year because of the financial demand for equipment, land and supplies.  Many will look at a farmer’s financial documents and see the large amounts of money flowing into the operation, and assume that farmers make hundreds of thousands of dollars. Few will keep looking and realize that the money is already spent before the farmer even cashes the check.     

The USDA has taken steps to help offset the cost for young farmers, allotting over 18 million dollars for continued extension and education for young people looking to begin a career in production agriculture.  Many cite land prices as the most daunting obstacle, especially in a country where more corn than ever is being demanded for food and for fuel.  Here in Iowa, we see anywhere from 5,000 to 10,000 dollars per acre.  That means that a farm with about 100 acres of good farmland with decent corn yields, can be sold for upwards of a million dollars.  To put that into perspective, the average Iowa farm has about 331 acres.

 

 
Quite frankly, we need the next generation of farmers like Chris Soules, which means we also need you.  I know that a town like Arlington with about 500 residents looks like a ghost town compared to places like Chicago and Los Angeles, but that does not mean that you would be any less important.

On both sides of my family, I am the 5th generation that plans to dedicate my life to agriculture.  However, there are many in my family whose background is not as deeply rooted in Iowa farmland.  Both of my grandmothers were city girls.  One had a full scholarship to business school when she graduated high school, both were students in the top of their class and both ended up married to Iowa farmboys.  They never planned to be farmwives, but eventually they became farmers working alongside their husbands and raising their children.  We have to be willing to accept those who may not have the same background, but aspire to accomplish the same goal.  Honestly, we need to welcome you, rather than judge you.

I write this knowing that even though you did not grow up in Arlington, there is a good chance that you will fall in love with Iowa and her people.  There is a good chance that you will also end up putting in more than 40 hours a week helping your husband run a productive farm.  There is a good chance that you will be asked to do things you never imagined, like sticking your arm up a cow’s rear end or power washing a pig pen.  You will experience the ups and downs of farm life.  You will cry on the bad days, smile on the good days and hopefully you will feel blessed everyday that you get to be a part of something much bigger than yourself.

You and I are not so different.  There was a point in my life that I did not have the knowledge and experience I do now at 22 years old, but I learned just like you will.  The only difference is that I learned at a younger age.  I will admit, in the beginning I did not understand how a bunch of “city girls” would adapt to small town living, but I am living proof that it can be done.  Welcome home.