I recently attended an annual contributing editors’ workshop
— an event that I always look forward to as an opportunity to share and
exchange ideas with other Farm Credit colleagues. We usually have a guest
speaker who motivates and “wows” us into thinking and doing things more
creatively, and I always come back to my office armed with tips and new ideas, ready
for another year.
This year, the last item on the agenda was a presentation by
a New York commercial photographer, Paul Mobley. I sat back in my chair ready
to learn some new techniques to aid me in my photo-taking endeavors.
Paul began to speak to us about the stress of being a
commercial photographer in New York and how the competition between photographers and the expectations of perfection from clients was overwhelming.
I must admit, I was beginning to question why he had been selected to be our
speaker.
Paul kept speaking and shared how he had needed a break from
the city and how reaching the breaking point turned into a life-changing
journey for him.
Then, something surprising happened. He clicked a little
button in his hand and a photo of Michigan farmer Don Schmidt, holding two pigs,
flashed in front of us. This was certainly not what I had expected to see. This farmer looked just like he could be one
of my customers I work with each day.
Paul explained the story behind this photo and then clicked
the button again. It was a photo of Allen King and his son and farm workers,
standing near a combine in a Tennessee field. Again, this picture reminded me
of all of my farmer friends I see every day, working so hard on the land they
love. Another click: It was the Ernie Righetti family on their California
avocado farm. They were way out in California, but there was something
strangely familiar about them.
Something began to happen inside of me. I was puzzled. I had
never seen any of these people, yet they all looked so familiar. Then with the
next click, I saw it! In some pictures,
it was the eyes; in others, the hands, the posture or the wrinkles. Paul had
captured it! It was the spirit of the American farmer and the heart of our country.
The spirit of the American farmer was in each photo.
There is something about working with soil that exudes
satisfaction in the eyes. The wrinkles in the photos smiled along with the eyes
and enhanced the hands in a way only achieved through many changing seasons. I,
too, have seen the posture of the American farmer that Paul captured so well. In
the stance, the breadth of the shoulders is wide, but not in a boastful way. It
is strong, yet welcoming, and it comes from decades of weathering the lifestyle
of a steward of the land.
By the time Paul had finished his presentation, I was in
awe. I was so glad that he had shared his story with us, and published his
photographs in a book titled, appropriately, American Farmer.
His words and photos had made me immediately grateful for my job, serving the
American farmer. Young or old, mountains or flatlands, animals or crops — it didn’t
matter the age, the region or the products of the American farmer. I had
discovered that the American farmer thrives and the spirit of the farming life
flows from shore to shore. I thought of the Farm Credit System and how it was
established by Congress in 1916, specifically to help the American farmer, and
I felt humbled and honored to be a part of the rich history of this service.
Today, I often glance through the pages of Paul’s book, feeling
that I know all of his subjects and their pets on a personal basis and
marveling at the spirit of the American farmer.
For this, I say thank you, Paul. I am thankful for my afternoon
with you. Thank you for the pictorial tribute to the American farmer – the heart
of our country. Your photographs honor America’s food and fiber producers and speak
in a way that words never could.
