The number of times in the past two weeks I have had to share a fun fact about myself as a way of acquainting myself with hundreds of other new students is a bit nauseating. Despite the animosity I feel about sharing a factoid with somebody who will probably forget my name and face in the next five minutes, I always enjoy seeing how people react to my fun fact. Normally for me, it’s always the same, “I live on a farm.” The reactions are normally the same, “really?” “that’s so cool!” “I wish I lived on a farm, all the animals…” Each of these people has the same image in mind. A red barn tucked within rolling hills resembling a patchwork quilt. A happy farmer toils with his equally happy family. They all sit down for dinner together and say a prayer and have a lively conversation over a home cooked meal. No one argues or glares at each other over their meatloaf and mashed potatoes. On Sundays, they go to church as a family and then return home to leisurely Sunday afternoon.
Nothing about my life has ever resembled that. Sure in moments of all its bucolic glory I enjoyed it and my family got along and the work wasn’t that bad, but that was only on rare occasions. I want people to understand the sacrifice and hardship a farming family goes through. How hard it is for the next generation to look their mother and father in the eyes and honestly say, “I’ll take over the farm.” In those few words, you are dedicating your life to long hours, poor pay, and a simple life. Growing up this life was good to me, it taught my sisters and me about discipline, hard work, simplicity, and responsibility. I wouldn’t change the way I was raised, but it was not an orthodox farm upbringing. Through these entries, I hope to highlight the aspects of my life that shaped me and anecdotes that might surprise those who were never exposed to this way of life. You might find humor, grief, or sincerity. Each story is intended to create an experience that is an unfamiliar way of life for most people.
