Being a farm kid means that I know everyone within five miles of where I live. It also means knowing all of their quirks, and the quirks of their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. By just hearing a last name, I can usually assume the character of that person. We also have to overlook those things at times for the sake of neighborliness. Neighborliness takes on many forms, be it pulling cars out of ditches or clearing driveways after snowstorms, to taking food to a neighbor after a death or illness.
Being a farm kid also means having a sense of tradition. It’s being able to stand atop a windmill tower and see, in one broad glance, the farms where my great-grandfather, grandfather, father, and I, myself, grew up. A true farm kid calls areas by long gone one-room schools and pieces of property by the families that farmed the land in their parents’ youth, such as “the Teiges’ place” or “north of Liberty Center School (which closed in the 1940’s).” I can also walk through the local cemetery and know 99% of the names. Not only that, but I can also pronounce the pure German, or other nationality, names that trip up even the best telemarketer.
Being a farm kid instills me with a sense of pride. A true farm kid, while maybe a little ornery, will be a good person and a responsible citizen for the simple fact that a person should be. A farm kid finds the reaction people give when they figure out his dad has a master’s degree amusing. It also means taking pride in agriculture. A farm kid’s blood will almost always boil at the thought of animal activists and “pure food” yuppies.
Being a farm kid