Recently, I had the opportunity to join some college students for an info night at Montana State University. My husband sits on an advisory committee for the ranching systems major, so he spoke that night.
The purpose was for freshmen and sophomores, hoping to be accepted into the program, to hear from senior students and an advisory member. I attended because my husband was the guest speaker but also because the ranch where we live has hosted interns from the program. I knew some of these kids and had the privilege of meeting many more.
The room was packed. Chairs were added around the edges of the room. Clearly, there’s an interest in agriculture.
What I found interesting was that most of these students weren’t coming from family ranches or agricultural backgrounds. They came with hearts longing to be the first in their family to grow agricultural roots. Oh, how that story resonates.
We did the same thing. I’ve written about it multiple times. Hearing my cowboy share our story and his education, and seeing agriculture’s impact, gripped me. This is the story I lived, but hearing it from him in a classroom accentuated how much God was in each of our moves, mess-ups, successes and growth.
Maybe I’m the only one, but when I look back at our decisions and choices, there are things I assume could have turned out better if only I would’ve reacted differently. If I wouldn’t have said, “Let’s wait one more week to sell calves …” or if I’d have said, “Yes, let’s buy that with our last dollar.” The voice of reason seems prudent in the moment, but the voice of the present can always look back with perfect hindsight. Yet, where we are is pretty decent.
When we started on our ranching adventure, we figured owning a large ranch would happen by age 40. It seemed completely reasonable then. Cue the laughter. We have owned some land, and we’re grateful for that opportunity, but now that we’re in our late 40s, life doesn’t exactly look like we anticipated back then.
Yet listening to my husband speak of our journey reminded me there isn’t anything that is out of the scope of God’s watchful eyes. The land appraisal years, the advanced degree, the working for others, the buying and selling cattle herds based on markets, the long hours and short nights, the kids’ activities … all of it was building a bridge to an even larger dream: helping the next generation.
When we started out, the road as first-generation ranchers was riddled with accusations, disappointments and naysayers. Some of it we brought on ourselves because of stubbornness and pride; some of it legitimately came because those around us didn’t want us there. People told us there wasn’t room for us in this industry – especially not without the clout of generational heritage.
But I’m grateful for the heart of a few ranchers who said otherwise. And for my rancher’s heart.
Oh, he was grumpy sometimes and could’ve done some things better. I could’ve, too. But the years have been good. God has whittled off rough edges and calmed a storm of emotions inside. While there’s always room to grow and learn this side of eternity, we’re grateful for our path. It took us to a classroom.
In this room, kids asked about ranching life and the different ways it could play out for them. It felt good to offer suggestions and provide encouragement.
Each of their paths will look different, but they are not unlike those fleeing west in the 1860s after passage of the Homestead Act to cultivate a life for themselves. They showed up early and stayed late. They asked good questions and looked for every resource possible.
After the talk, a line formed to ask questions. The one most asked? How do I make it as a first-generation rancher?
I wish I could say they weren’t hearing what we heard over 25 years ago, but some are: You should’ve been born into it. Good luck getting anyone to notice you.
It saddens me that such comments are still being made, but it excites me because there are great people out there teaching these students. Plus, these kids are stronger than the naysayers. They are professionals, willing to work hard. They are smart, willing to learn more. They have grit, and I’m certain they’ll make it.
We had such good discussions, and I found myself saying the very words I wished I’d heard, but now I know they are true: Be proud that you’re a first-generation rancher. We need you. The industry needs you.
I believe this with all my heart. The upcoming generation needs our words, our encouragement and our stories. Not just ours, but yours as well. I am grateful for all we’ve encountered. I’m grateful for my cowboy’s heart. I’m so thankful for a room full of kids excited to blaze a trail. And dear reader, I’m grateful for all of you – our greater ranching family.
That’s a lot for which to be thankful!
