Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Farmers October 9, 2014

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys
They’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
Even with someone they love

Cowboys ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold
And they’d rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Lonestar belt buckles and old faded Levis

The quintessential cowboy is hardworking and brave, yet the song warns against raising little boys to follow that path.  “Moms, don’t buy the hats and chaps and lassos, that’s not who you want your boy to be!”  What’s a mom to do?

Harvest season is upon us, and I’ve got two boys on my hands that seem to be drawn towards the tractors, wagons, and dirt.  The farm life.  No, I can’t bet my retirement that any of this proves the fate of a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old.  But I can’t help but imagine that if that’s where they find themselves in 20 years, I can say “Well, I saw that coming!”.

But is that what I, the person who birthed them into this world and will love and protect them forever and ever, wants for them?

If you think I sound insane, I’m kind of glad.  That would mean that you think of farmers as being extremely hardworking servants of the earth, respected and under-appreciated.  And all of that would, in my opinion, be true.

But do I want my boys to know the stress?  The stress of a hay crop that needs to be cut and baled when the weatherman only talks about rain.  The stress of little corn and bean seeds that don’t have the energy to cut the surface of the dirt because the weatherman only talks about drought.  The stress of “work weeks” with more hours that can be kept track of, weeks of sacrificing any time for family or friends because the crop won’t wait?

But do I want my boys to know danger?  The danger of power take-offs, augers, tall silos and grain bins, and huge machinery with impossible blind spots.  The danger of an ornery bull or a brand-new mom next to her baby.  Farm accidents are all too common and unpredictable.

But do I want my boys to know loss?  The crop drowned by an unrelenting shower of rain, a crop that was carefully chosen and meticulously cultivated.  The loss felt when the grain prices plummet at the time to sell.  The loss of finding an animal dead in the pasture without reason, an animal that was loved and called by a nickname.  Or worse yet, the loss felt when a sick or injured animal has to be put down.

But do I want my boys to know expense?  A combine for $385,000 or a single acre of ground for $16,000.  Fixing a silo that wasn’t meant to fall apart coming in between $5,000 and $10,000.  A part-time employee to share some of the burden needing more than minimum wage because you found someone with knowledge and common sense.  The costs of fuel, seed, and replacement parts (because on a farm, everything breaks down) is astronomical.  And all that before considering that farmers pay their own insurance policies and retirement funds.

Do I want to encourage my boys that farming is an option for their future?

An awesome and supportive friend pointed out that farmers have learned from example and know there are expectations.  Is that a bad thing?  Absolutely not.

I want my boys to know that they should work hard.  Because even though there’s a hundred factors beyond their control, sometimes they’ll get the crop of their dreams.  And… sometimes they won’t.  They should work hard regardless of the outcome.

I want my boys to learn how to work carefully and keep themselves safe.  Sometimes we can’t keep our kids in a bubble away from all the dangers in the world.  Rather, I will teach them to respect the sheer power of machinery and power take-offs.  I will teach them to respect the bull and the new mama, and how to work and around them.  I will close my eyes and say a prayer if they have to climb a grain bin, and be proud if they have the strength and confidence to do so without hesitation.

I want Trent and Tyson to work hard for what they have; to be charitable and not to expect handouts.  I want them to learn to appreciate “when the markets are good” and be prepared to handle life when they’re not.  I want them to spend and save money responsibly, and understand risk.

Without stress in their lives, would they grow up to be men of character?  Without being around danger, would they grow up to be aware?  If they never experience loss, would they grow up to appreciate all that they have been blessed with?  Without understanding cost, would they grow up to understand financial responsibility?

I might be raising a boy (or two) who will one day work his butt off on a field that will be ruined by rain.  He might be stressed, he may spend his days in dangerous environments, and he might lose his favorite cow.  He might have to tell his wife that he can’t make it to their kid’s baseball game because the forecast calls for rain tomorrow.

He may also be diligent about his funds, have a respect for the land that is uncommon, climb a silo at record speeds, and be able to fix nearly anything that breaks.  He may be one of the hardest working and dedicated people I will know, and I will be so proud to call him my son.

Would we have firefighters and doctors and construction workers and teachers if we raise our kids to avoid stress and danger?  No.  We have to lead by example for the next generation to have character, strive to meet expectations, and earn respect.  My boys may or may not ultimately find careers in farming.  But I will send them on rides in the tractor, talk about what’s growing in the fields, and be quiet while the weatherman is giving his prediction.

Trent and Tyson will see stress, loss, anger, and frustration on the farm.  They will also witness so many positive lessons our world (and particularly agriculture) has to offer.  So go on, get in the combine.