There are many things that bother me: yippin’ dogs, antique furniture, mascots. Mascots? The lovable emblem of an athletics team? Yes, mascots bother me.

Mascots represent the unique spirit of a school’s team, but most mascots are very common. You don’t believe me? For example, in Cassia County, two schools that are 30 miles apart have the same mascot … the hornets. Surely I’m not the only one to notice.

I don’t exempt my own alma mater from this strangeness. I am a proud graduate of Filer High School. We are the fearsome Filer Wildcats; distinct from the feral cats, which is not a mascot. And don’t confuse us with bobcats, bearcats, tigers, lions, cougars, Bengals or any other more specific cats. We are the wild ones.

Strangely, wildcats are uncommon in the wild but surprisingly common as mascots. Six schools in Idaho use the wildcat, and so do 10 universities nationwide. I hear Jerome chuckling from across the canyon, but the tiger is the most common mascot in the state with eight, followed by Trojans and bulldogs, with seven each.

In the cowboy state of Wyoming, there is only one cowboy mascot, and that is the University of Wyoming Cowboys. But 15% of Wyoming mascots are Wild West related like buckaroos, punchers and wranglers. Idaho has only one potato-related mascot in the Shelly High School Russets. Other unique mascots include my wife’s alma mater, the Gooding Senators. Have you heard of the Camas County Mushers, the Kuna Kavemen and the Orofino Maniacs … those are unique mascots.

Inexplicably, people really identify with their mascots. If I walk through the Boise Airport greeting folks with “Go Vandals,” about a quarter would scowl, a quarter would smile and half of the out-of-towners would insist I take my medication. I graduated from Utah State University (USU), and we are the USU Aggies. What is an aggie? There are other universities that are also aggies, but our aggie is a bovine resembling blue shag carpet alliteratively named Big Blue. I have such affection for my aggies that if I hear two long blasts from a semitruck horn, I will throw my hands in the air to the left and to the right, yelling the words to “The Scotsman.” That is how most of us identify with the institutions of our past.

I have another daughter graduating this year. I know what you’re thinking, “How many kids does this guy have.” If it seems like I’m always writing a graduation column, I’ve had three kids graduate in the last four years. With that frequency, I should be accustomed to the bittersweet emotion accompanying a graduation, but it still gets to me. My daughter will pack up and leave with only a latent hope that she finds her way back home. That is the bitter in the bittersweet. I want to focus more on the graduate this time instead of sentimental old fools like myself.

These transitions can be stark. She will no longer be a wolf, she will have to decide if she wants to be a Bengal, a Vandal, or a golden eagle. What about vet school in a few years? Should she be a ram, a cougar or an aggie? As she becomes the new mascot that she chooses, I hope she takes a little bit of the mustangs and a little bit of the wolves to her new institution. Maybe even a little bit of 4-H and FFA, a little bit of Idaho High School Activities Association and a little bit of Idaho High School Rodeo Association to her new identity. In essence, I hope she remembers where she comes from, wherever she ends up.

Graduation is a good time to acknowledge all of the individuals and institutions that go into training a child into an adult – and that burden seems to fall on a greater percentage of the community in the small rural areas where we gravitate. Maybe that is why it means a little more to be a mustang, a wildcat or a wolf.

I also hope that when she graduates and enters the workforce, she gives back to the institutions that built her. That is the point to this column. Kids don’t raise themselves, and that reality is more poignant in rural America. Not everyone has the talent or temperament to be a teacher, but that’s OK because so much more goes into youthful skills acquisition. Run for the school board, coach a team – willingness is the only qualification for a team of 6-year-olds. There are other ways to be involved that require less time commitment. Participate in a 4-H or FFA fundraiser, buy an animal at the fat stock sale or man a gate at a youth rodeo. Your involvement with cultivating the next generation doesn’t have to be tied to an institution. You can be a mentor, host apprentices or make a special effort to hire young people. You can host field days, open your farm for learning experiences … the possibilities are limitless.

Whatever mascot my daughter chooses to represent, I hope that she will feel the community and unified purpose found in Idaho agriculture. I hope she chooses that mascot.