For stock show professionals, there is a running joke regarding the amateur livestock exhibitor. "Freddy 4-Her" is a bumbling character who can't perform even the simplest daily ranch tasks. On its surface, this can seem like a slight. It can come across as the establishment showing disdain for the common people, and haughtiness certainly is a portion of the sentiment expressed. Amateurs often get in the way at major shows. Their livestock often isn't as well prepared. Their lack of serious competitiveness often lowers the quality of the show. They often don't follow the simplest rules of show etiquette. But, an understanding of the stock show psyche reveals a deeper meaning.
"Freddy 4-Her" is a reference to where most of the stock show professionals began. Most didn't come from prosperous and self-sustaining livestock farms. Most don't have a family farm waiting on them when they finish their agricultural economics or farm management degrees at one of the many land-grant universities around the country. Most of them caught the livestock bug through the two major amateur agricultural organizations in the U.S. Most of them were "Freddy 4-Her" at some point, and most of them wore a corduroy jacket during their formative years. Hidden in the insult is a recognition that they've arrived at their goal and that the path is still open to those who will come behind them.
That doesn't mean that these professionals tolerate lowering expectations. I would argue that these individuals value continued improvement as highly as any industry in the world. The goal is always to win, and as a result, to present and sell the highest quality product possible. It's this divergence, livestock transitioning from project to product, that separates the amateur from the professional.
The closest urban comparison to this amateur experience comes from sports. Baseball is America's pastime, and it is also big business. How many of us grew up watching major league games and imitating our favorite players the next day at little league practice? Baseball's farm system is unquestionable in its scope, depth, and ability to develop young talent and that talent is consistently translated into a slew of professionals in the baseball industry. Not only are professional players developed, but this feeder system ensures a continual supply of broadcasters, front office managers, and fans alike.
Much in the same way, 4-H and FFA programs serve as a farm system (pun intended) for professional stock show exhibitors. Many become involved in agriculture as direct participants or secondary support for the industry. Though less than 2% of the US population lives on a farm, roughly 15% of all employment in the United States is related to agricultural production of food and textiles. Sales, marketing, finance, biotechnology, informatics, engineering, and legal representation are only a few of the career fields represented in the agricultural spectrum. Without programs and volunteers leading the charge at the local level and universities continuing to provide platforms for growth, creativity, and expansion of the agricultural industry, there will be no crop of talent to fill professional positions in agriculture.
Returning to the initial point, current stock show professionals view those amateur participants with a sense of understanding regret of a time earlier in their life. Nostalgia literally means grief or longing for home, and nostalgia is a key component in the cowboy culture and mindset. Sometimes that manifests as reminiscence; sometimes its home is humor and jest. It's difficult summarize the emotions buried under a Stetson. Many have tried, and many have done it better than I surmise I can. There's sunshine and rain, joy and pain, guts, love, and glory. More than anything else though, I find in all those stock show professionals a determination and a will-power to continue their way of life.
The average size of a cattle ranch in the US is 40 head. What does this tell us about the American cattleman/woman? It tells us that these people who had no waiting farm empires as youth, who caught the cattle bug through 4-H and FFA, who work in various fields and freelance at stock shows, continue to propagate the industry and raise their children in the stock show culture. They bridge the gap between the few major farms and ranches that are self-sustaining and the volunteer organizations that expose kids to showing cattle. They are cattlemen culturally, if not professionally.
As the Urban Cattleman, I fall in this group. I have no farm, and literally haven't seen a cow in over a month. Yet, I find it nearly impossible in daily conversation to avoid referencing lessons learned from my time as both a 4-Her and as a stock show contractor at Hudson Pines. I'm certainly not a professional cattleman, but anyone who has been involved in livestock has a profound understanding of birth, death, and everything we experience in between. Any woman who's married to a cattleman has been compared to a cow (a fact to which my wife, mother, and sister can attest). Anytime an acquaintance, pet, friend, parent, or spouse passes away, it is the cattleman who can put it in perspective. No one understands the random joys and sorrows associated with day to day life like the cattleman. Sometimes calves are rejected by their mothers. Sometimes an old cow won't breed and is no longer productive. Sometimes a bull will get into the feed shed and founder. Sometimes tractors break, rain won't come, and fences need mending. There isn't a better time to practice conflict resolution than when cows get out.
But sometimes...
Sometimes a first-calf heifer cleans her first calf. Sometimes that calf that won't suck takes his first unassisted bottle. Sometimes that orphaned calf gets accepted by the cow which lost her own.
This is the true value of "Freddy 4-Her." Many of those who participate in agricultural programs may not pursue careers in the industry. I didn't. Still, that exposure to husbandry, to caring for the weak, to making hard choices, is invaluable. Raising a steer for 15 months--feeding it, washing it, training it--only to put it on the trailer with the knowledge that it will be on someone's plate within few weeks encapsulates the difficulty and sacrifice necessary in this world. The ability to let go of that which we love, to understand the gravity of our role in the world, to value diligence and hard work, even when the outcome may be bittersweet, is the true secret of these programs. There is a hardening process found here, but it is a hardening tempered with empathy. It's what makes a cattleman strong, and it's this strength that defines the myth of the cowboy. A cowboy understands the pain, and makes the hard choice anyway. In a "me" culture, in an era that exalts personal gratification and entitlement, our youth need this exposure to real choices more than ever. We need more "Freddy 4-Her's." We need more cowboys, if only in mind and heart.
"Freddy 4-Her" is a reference to where most of the stock show professionals began. Most didn't come from prosperous and self-sustaining livestock farms. Most don't have a family farm waiting on them when they finish their agricultural economics or farm management degrees at one of the many land-grant universities around the country. Most of them caught the livestock bug through the two major amateur agricultural organizations in the U.S. Most of them were "Freddy 4-Her" at some point, and most of them wore a corduroy jacket during their formative years. Hidden in the insult is a recognition that they've arrived at their goal and that the path is still open to those who will come behind them.
That doesn't mean that these professionals tolerate lowering expectations. I would argue that these individuals value continued improvement as highly as any industry in the world. The goal is always to win, and as a result, to present and sell the highest quality product possible. It's this divergence, livestock transitioning from project to product, that separates the amateur from the professional.
The closest urban comparison to this amateur experience comes from sports. Baseball is America's pastime, and it is also big business. How many of us grew up watching major league games and imitating our favorite players the next day at little league practice? Baseball's farm system is unquestionable in its scope, depth, and ability to develop young talent and that talent is consistently translated into a slew of professionals in the baseball industry. Not only are professional players developed, but this feeder system ensures a continual supply of broadcasters, front office managers, and fans alike.
Much in the same way, 4-H and FFA programs serve as a farm system (pun intended) for professional stock show exhibitors. Many become involved in agriculture as direct participants or secondary support for the industry. Though less than 2% of the US population lives on a farm, roughly 15% of all employment in the United States is related to agricultural production of food and textiles. Sales, marketing, finance, biotechnology, informatics, engineering, and legal representation are only a few of the career fields represented in the agricultural spectrum. Without programs and volunteers leading the charge at the local level and universities continuing to provide platforms for growth, creativity, and expansion of the agricultural industry, there will be no crop of talent to fill professional positions in agriculture.
Returning to the initial point, current stock show professionals view those amateur participants with a sense of understanding regret of a time earlier in their life. Nostalgia literally means grief or longing for home, and nostalgia is a key component in the cowboy culture and mindset. Sometimes that manifests as reminiscence; sometimes its home is humor and jest. It's difficult summarize the emotions buried under a Stetson. Many have tried, and many have done it better than I surmise I can. There's sunshine and rain, joy and pain, guts, love, and glory. More than anything else though, I find in all those stock show professionals a determination and a will-power to continue their way of life.
The average size of a cattle ranch in the US is 40 head. What does this tell us about the American cattleman/woman? It tells us that these people who had no waiting farm empires as youth, who caught the cattle bug through 4-H and FFA, who work in various fields and freelance at stock shows, continue to propagate the industry and raise their children in the stock show culture. They bridge the gap between the few major farms and ranches that are self-sustaining and the volunteer organizations that expose kids to showing cattle. They are cattlemen culturally, if not professionally.
As the Urban Cattleman, I fall in this group. I have no farm, and literally haven't seen a cow in over a month. Yet, I find it nearly impossible in daily conversation to avoid referencing lessons learned from my time as both a 4-Her and as a stock show contractor at Hudson Pines. I'm certainly not a professional cattleman, but anyone who has been involved in livestock has a profound understanding of birth, death, and everything we experience in between. Any woman who's married to a cattleman has been compared to a cow (a fact to which my wife, mother, and sister can attest). Anytime an acquaintance, pet, friend, parent, or spouse passes away, it is the cattleman who can put it in perspective. No one understands the random joys and sorrows associated with day to day life like the cattleman. Sometimes calves are rejected by their mothers. Sometimes an old cow won't breed and is no longer productive. Sometimes a bull will get into the feed shed and founder. Sometimes tractors break, rain won't come, and fences need mending. There isn't a better time to practice conflict resolution than when cows get out.
But sometimes...
Sometimes a first-calf heifer cleans her first calf. Sometimes that calf that won't suck takes his first unassisted bottle. Sometimes that orphaned calf gets accepted by the cow which lost her own.
This is the true value of "Freddy 4-Her." Many of those who participate in agricultural programs may not pursue careers in the industry. I didn't. Still, that exposure to husbandry, to caring for the weak, to making hard choices, is invaluable. Raising a steer for 15 months--feeding it, washing it, training it--only to put it on the trailer with the knowledge that it will be on someone's plate within few weeks encapsulates the difficulty and sacrifice necessary in this world. The ability to let go of that which we love, to understand the gravity of our role in the world, to value diligence and hard work, even when the outcome may be bittersweet, is the true secret of these programs. There is a hardening process found here, but it is a hardening tempered with empathy. It's what makes a cattleman strong, and it's this strength that defines the myth of the cowboy. A cowboy understands the pain, and makes the hard choice anyway. In a "me" culture, in an era that exalts personal gratification and entitlement, our youth need this exposure to real choices more than ever. We need more "Freddy 4-Her's." We need more cowboys, if only in mind and heart.