Barriers

I was talking to an acquaintance from Olds College one evening several months ago.  He grew up in a town, but has spent a lot of time working on his relative's farm.  Because of this, he is quite knowledgeable and can hold his own in a conversation with farmers.  He has also come to love farming.  Even though we met at Olds College, neither of us were in the Agricultural Management program at the time.  I was in the horticulture program, planning to switch to Ag. Management and he was in another program.  In our conversation that night, I asked him, "If you like farming so much, why aren't you in the ag. management program?  Why not become a farmer?"  This young man gave me an answer that told me he had given up on his dream of farming long ago.  He said, "It's different for me than it is for you or any of those other kids who have farms to go home to.  I'd have to start from scratch, buy all the land I need, and the equipment and everything else and that's just too expensive."  I tried to argue: "Well, it's not as if my dad will just hand the farm over to me.  I'll have to pay for everything, too.  Nothing is given to us who grow up on the farm."  He acknowledged that I was right, but reminded me that there is a difference between paying the bank and paying your parents for land.  I had no response to this and the conversation ended on that discouraging note.

Later that spring, a number of my friends and acquaintances from Olds College had gathered for a wiener roast before we left school for the summer.  We were talking about how the year had gone.  One girl, who was about to graduate from the ag. management program mentioned something about how she sometimes worried that she would not be able to make it as a farmer, because it is hard for girls.  I was surprised that she would so closely echo my own inner struggle as I prepared to switch programs shortly.

There are many "barriers to entry," as economists call them, to the agriculture industry.  Land is one of the biggest barriers.  It is insanely expensive and these days, as I am learning at school, you need a lot of it just to be able to make back your costs of production if you are raising traditional crops.  The costs to produce crops and livestock (even if the land is paid for) are enormous and the pay is often poor.  Farmers are limited in their opportunities to dictate what price they will take for their crops.  We are "price takers," generally forced to sell our crops at whatever price the market dictates, even if it means selling at a loss.  And for those of you in the city, you should know that only a small fraction of what you pay for your food at the grocery store gets back to the farmers.  Even if we can pay for the land, equipment, seed, labour, supplies, machinery expenses, and everything else, our struggle to enter and remain in the industry is far from over.  We work long hours with slim margins and put our lives in danger every day to produce the food and fibre products that everyone needs and demands.  Five minutes of hail can wipe out an entire crop.  One bad winter storm can take out an entire herd.  The smallest mistake, as I have learned, can have us staring death in the face.  Every farmer faces all these difficulties and more.  So why do we do it?  Why do we enter the industry?  We do it because farming is not just an industry.  It is a lifestyle.  And while that lifestyle is often brutal and uncompromising and the eyes of the public are ever upon us, judging our methods of production, for some of us it is the only lifestyle worth living.

Female farmers have it worse.  On top of the economic and physical barriers to becoming a farmer, we face various sociological and cultural barriers.  I have no idea how many times people have told me that I need to marry a farmer or that I would make a good wife (as I wipe the crumbs off of a table, because that's so important to being a good wife).  I don't know how many people are talking about me behind my back, saying that it's not right that I should be a farmer or that they don't think I can do it because it's too hard.  These people don't know that I know what they are saying, but it gets back to me all too often.  Even my family seems to have a hard time imagining me farming without the help of a husband or my dad.  I try not to think about all of this, but I know that one day I will be finished with school and I will have to do a lot of the work on my own.  I will have to some how come up with enough money to pay for the land and equipment and cattle that I will buy from my dad.  In addition to that, I will need to be able to make enough money from my crops and cows to pay off the expenses that I will incur in raising them.  I am small and not particularly strong and how on earth am I supposed to do the work of a man?  I can't even climb up the granary because the steps are too far apart for me to reach (I tried it the other weekend)!  Sure, Dad will be there.  At first.  He's an old(ish) farmer.  There's no way he'll just up and retire.  That just doesn't happen.  But one day, hopefully not for a very long time, but one day nonetheless, he will not be there to help me.  What then?  Will I be all alone?  Will I run the family farm into the ground?  There are so many questions that bump around in my mind some days that I am sure it will never work.  These barriers aren't just hurdles that need to be jumped, nor even mountains to be climbed.  They are a solid wall, hundreds of feet high, holding me back.  I do not wish to be some extraordinary, inspiring woman.  I want only to be a farmer.

Despite these worries and barriers, there are some days when I sit in class, soaking in all that I am learning and some how finding hope.  I stare at that big wall and think that maybe, just maybe, I can get around it.  That's where I am right now.  I've got ideas ready to burst forth, ways of making it work.  Maybe the barriers don't have to be so big.  Maybe I can sneak around them.  I may do it all alone or I may one day marry a farmer (or a man of some other profession), as so many people want me to.  How ever I do it, I will be a farmer.  No one is going to tell me, "I told you so."  I won't quit, no matter hard it gets.  And yes, I do get discouraged, especially when I hear from those of you who think I can't be a farmer.  But you should know that all you are doing is making me more determined.  So go ahead.  Keep telling me I can't.