Without fail Father’s Day weekend includes two things in my house, a trip to the golf course with friends, their son’s, and my brother for my dad and a trip to the local fairgrounds for the annual local FFA chapter’s livestock show for me. The show is held in remembrance of a young man who passed away far too young. I was too young then to remember much about that time, but I know the family, and I will never miss a chance to support them.
Just like every year for the past six or so, I knew my job without being asked. I was to join the announcer at the stand, help keep track of what was going on and make sure the premiums got handed out to the correct people. As I walked up the show ring being wet with a sprinkler to help settle the dust, I recognized familiar members of the community setting up for their roles as well. It was comforting to be greeted by the people who had watched me grow up at those very fair grounds. I had moved a couple hours away for grad school, yet none of us thought twice about me coming home for the show.
Before long kids and animals filled the ring and our jobs started. Parents held animals for their child in the holding pen so their son or daughter could switch animals between classes. To me, this was all too familiar. I had done this all at 4-H and FFA shows for most of my life. I really hadn’t aged out of the programs that long ago and since then I have volunteered. Suddenly, this show, in particular, had new meaning to me. This is where small town support stood true.
Loyal alumni supported not only their FFA chapter but the family who had lost a beloved son so long ago. Despite the heat that had the men working the show ring sweating, I got the chills. How had nearly twenty years passed yet community support had never wavered? Then it hit me, this is a small town and that is what we do.
While the kids were busy in the ring learning the valuable lessons that could only be learned by handling livestock, the adults helping demonstrated just what those values looked like matured. The students learned about loyalty, hard work, trust, cooperation, manners, and so much more. I felt I was stuck somewhere between the two groups. I’m not ready to call myself an adult at 22 but I certainly was more mature than a high school aged kid pushing a pig around the ring. It didn’t really matter what age category I belonged to, I belonged in that small town that supported the FFA chapter and family that meant so much to me.
What was the show really about? Were we showing livestock or were we upholding social values that had been instilled in us long ago as a showman.
IL Corn Intern