After a long day, one of the first things we do is wash our hands of the dirt, grease, blood, and God knows what else we’ve soiled them with.
Your hands don’t know if you grow organic or conventional; your hands don’t know what livestock you raise; your hands don’t know what dairy cow you’re milking; your hands don’t know what truck you’re driving. Your hands don’t discriminate. Your hands never say no, and they never ask for a day off.
We abuse them; we break them. We lose fingers and they bleed and blister, as we bend, squash, and squeeze them, along with everything else you can think of. And these hands went through all this hell because it is what we ask them to do. But as hard as these hands work they have a softer side.
Each of our hands have story that is unique. Each story brings to light the human side of who we are. We are no different than our urban friends or those on the other side of the political aisle.
See my two hands, as ugly and scarred as they are, they were there to hold my firstborn; they slid the ring on my true loves hand; they held the hand of my grandma until her last breath; they held the hand of my little girl on her first day of school, and they have carried the casket of one the greatest men I have ever known.
I have seen some negativity towards one part of Ag or another and it saddens me. It saddens me because I know what I’ve done with my 2 hands and I’m absolutely positive that someone I disagree with has a story just like mine, and we can understand each other if we try. Our passion for what we each do and how we do it is full of pride. But if our hands could all talk to each other instead of our mouths, I guarantee there would be much more mutual respect.
Think about it: All of us work extremely hard. All of us have noble professions. I am for celebrating the stories of what our hands do, not our mouths. Our hands are our common bond. Maybe sometimes our hands should cover our mouth before they are asked to defend it.
As for me….all of you and every method of farming and ranching are to be championed. We all have a place. Thank you to all who are here and keep telling your story.
By Erik Wilson
Erik Wilson is one of the Founders of My Job Depends on Ag. He is also a Father, Farmer, Small Ag Business Owner, Friend, Public Speaker and Ag Advocate. His mission has been to to show how many people’s lives are related, connected and, most importantly, dependent on agriculture.
Visit the Website: My Job Depends On Ag
Follow on Facebook: My Job Depends On Ag Group Forum
Contact: erik@myjobdependsonag.com
