The farmers of yesteryear are perfect role models for parks and rec leaders
“And on the 8th day God looked down on his planned paradise and said, ‘I need a caretaker.’ So, God made a farmer.” Paul Harvey (1978)
I was raised to believe some of the wisest men on Earth were the simplest and most diligent, like humble farmers, blacksmiths, milkmen, barbers, and grocers—men with one primary duty to perform and to do so consistently well. I was taught that becoming a man is a lifelong pursuit of humility, continuous learning, and self-mastery. It was defined not by knowing everything, but by recognizing the limits of one’s knowledge and learning just as much from failures as from successes. The rationale was that a wise man knows he never knows all, but a fool thinks he knows everything. I was taught to think like the pragmatic farmer.
In the United States, agricultural land makes up nearly half of the country’s total land mass. Although family farming is not as prominent as it once was, many of the cultural norms that accompanied it still exist in those places where farms once stood. Though some may never return. For example, there was a time when big families were bred deliberately so the farmer had sons to work the fields and less need to hire workers. In Ohio, as time passed and young men seeking education departed for the university in the fall, the farmer was forced to hire help, usually at the most critical time of year (harvest). This forced another cultural phenomenon to counteract the mass evacuation and is the reason there are so many small universities surrounding the primary state university in Columbus. The small, local colleges allowed the boys to attend schools yet be home to tend the fields and work the harvest. In a loose radius around Columbus, there are more than 20 fine and accredited schools still operating today, although few boys return home for the harvest anymore. Big families are a thing of the past.
