The Agriculture section is presented by TD
The gap between farm folk and city folk is slowly closing
Both sides need to acknowledge the learned prejudices and open themselves to knowing each other. The food sector will benefit
Toban Dyck
“Shift up! You have to shift up!” I would yell, running across the yard to catch up to a smiling operator red-lining our three-wheeler in first gear. He didn’t hear me over the high-pitched and horrifically loud engine he was straddling, having the time of his life while simultaneously stretching the mechanical limitations of our then-new Honda 250.
This scenario and others similar to it played out frequently when my friends from town spent time on our farm.
I had the things my friends loved — a dirt bike, a three-wheeler, a forest and a creek. And I would watch with a smirk as they struggled to do what I could do in my sleep, believing that non-farm people lacked my robust farm-kid instinct package.
I knew what a centrifugal clutch was and I knew how to use one properly. I was young and already driving other, much larger machines on the farm.
They were from town. I was from the farm. It was a distinction I made, with prejudice. And I wonder if letting that boy drive the three-wheeler was my way of confirming and galvanizing that prejudice. I doubt it. I was too young for such high-level shenanigans.
Something was going on, though. There was something at work behind those judgments, and I’m guessing whatever it was, looks quite similar to what today drives some farmers to distrust those hailing from cities.
The gap between farmers and the public begins forming at a young age, and it’s something we should all actively work to reverse, in our children, ourselves and wherever else we see it.
The pejorative thoughts that farmers are simple, destructive and a little red on the neck still float around. They surface once in a while, but less and less, though. This is a good thing.
The wounds, however, are still fresh. I see it. I hear it. In coffee shops, in day-to-day conversations, farmers speak about their city counterparts — lawmakers, media, friends — with the assumption that they are out to get them. And that somehow, in some way, shape or form, they believe that embedded in every news article and every law, the farmer is being underestimated and undermined.
Farmers are keenly aware of the stereotypes that have been foisted on them.
Call someone simple for enough time, they will start to believe you. Write policies and laws for a redneck, libertarian audience and don’t be surprised if they respond, in kind.
There remains a sizable number of farmers so used to sarcastically playing up that role that they now believe it of themselves. An erosion of confidence. It’s real. Some won’t talk to city folk because they’re not convinced they will listen or be taken seriously.
For some, it’s an inferiority complex fed by the belief that these negative stereotypes are constantly being applied to them.
I know plenty of self-proclaimed libertarians who really aren’t that. I know even more highly intelligent farmers who routinely joke about being “just a simple farmer.” It’s troubling.
Negativity towards the farming community is lessening. People are starting to view farming as a complex, demanding enterprise that requires a significant set of skills. Farmers need to acknowledge this. It’ll take some time.
It was vindication that made me smirk. “You think I’m simple, eh? Why don’t you jump on that three-wheeler and take it for a spin.”
That was wrong. That robust instinct package is important for running a farm, but it can be nurtured and it isn’t more or less valuable than the complex portfolio of things learned growing up in a town or city.
That boy did not think I was simple. He just wanted to drive the three-wheeler.
Let’s believe in the best of each other. The agricultural sector will benefit. The food sector will benefit.