Optimism in tough times

As I sit in the tractor cab writing this column, the hum of the air drill in the background, I can’t help but reflect on the season we just wrapped up. Harvest is done, and the grain is in the bin. On our farm, it turned out to be an average crop, maybe a little above average in spots, and while that should be cause for celebration, it’s hard not to feel the sting of reality when wheat prices are stuck at levels not much different than they were in the 1970s. Yields may improve, equipment may advance, and our practices may become more efficient, but if the price doesn’t keep up, it doesn’t always feel like progress. Still, you can’t farm without optimism. It’s what carries us through the lean years, the tough weather, and the markets that don’t make sense. It’s what gets us up in the morning and keeps us moving forward, because the truth is, giving up isn’t an option.

This year, like many others, it was a quick turnaround from the combines to the air drills. There’s no pause, no real break, just one season flowing right into the next. On my farm, seeding brings more stress than harvest. Harvest is hard work, yes, but seeding carries with it a different kind of pressure. You’re laying the foundation for the next crop, and the window to get it done always feels too short. Add in the constant fear of a rain shower in the forecast that might cap the seed in, and it makes for some long, anxious days. Yet, here I am, pushing forward, knowing it has to get better. It always does, eventually. The thing about farming is that no season is ever the same as the last. The markets may stay stubbornly low, but weather shifts, input costs change, new opportunities come along, and something breaks in our favor. Optimism doesn’t mean ignoring the challenges; it means facing them head on and believing there’s a way through.

I know many of you are feeling the same mix of exhaustion and hope. You’ve just come through harvest yourselves, and maybe your results were similar to mine — average, maybe a touch above. But we all know average doesn’t pay the bills when costs are sky high and markets don’t respond. That’s why I keep circling back to the importance of having strong farm policy in place. We need Congress to pass a farm bill that actually works for producers. We don’t have the luxury of waiting. Every day that goes by without progress is another day of uncertainty, and in this line of work, uncertainty is the last thing we need.

In spite of it all, I remain hopeful. I look at the resilience of farmers, and I see people who refuse to give up, who keep finding ways to make it work. I see families passing down farms to the next generation despite all the headwinds. I see neighbors helping neighbors, whether it’s with a broken-down piece of equipment, a delayed harvest, or just a word of encouragement. That kind of community doesn’t exist in many professions, and it’s something that keeps me grounded.

Farming has never been easy, and it never will be. The stress, the long hours, the financial strain, they’re all part of the deal, but so are the sunsets from the cab, the satisfaction of a bin filled, and the pride of seeing a crop you seeded just weeks earlier push through the soil. Those moments make the hard times bearable.

As we move into another season, I’m choosing to stay optimistic, not because the challenges don’t exist, but because without optimism, there’s no way to keep going. Farming has always been about believing in tomorrow, even when today feels impossible, and in these tough times, that belief is more important than ever.