What Do People Buy

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to attend the Alumni Development Conference. While there, I had the opportunity to meet alumni members from around the country, form friendships with fellow National Officer Candidates, and listen to speakers that highlighted topics surrounding agricultural advocacy and literacy. The conference was incredible, and truly helped to build my understanding of how a thriving alumni affiliate can have a profound impact on an agricultural education program and FFA chapter.

There was one particular phrase that caught my attention and has stuck with me since I got back from Kansas City. During a presentation about agricultural advocacy, the speaker referenced a quote from Simon Sinek that reads, “People don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it.” The full video can be watched here:

The video does an incredible job of explaining human nature and what truly drives our decision making, and it really made me start to wonder about how we market not only agriculture, but also FFA. Are we selling what we do, or why we do it?

When describing FFA, I have always spoken about how we are a youth led student organization which is rooted in agriculture. That our organization does business as the National FFA Organization instead of the Future Farmers of America to help encompass the broad scope of what agriculture entails and that our mission statement is to develop students’ potential for premier leadership, personal growth, and career success through agricultural education. These are all amazing talking points, and truly do show what it is that our organization does for students. However, these statements fail to answer the why we choose to exist as an organization.

Why do we choose to exist as an organization? The question seems simple enough, but as I thought about that question on the 4 hour car ride back from Kansas City, the answer seemed harder and harder to latch onto. It seems like there are many reasons that FFA exists as an organization. We have 5 paragraphs that exist in the form of the FFA creed that do an eloquent job of stating the importance of our organization, to ourselves as members, to the communities we are a part of, and the industry we participate in. However, the FFA creed is a difficult document to explain to someone outside of our organization. After 6 years of being an FFA member, I am still discovering all the intricacies of the FFA creed and what it truly means to say those words “I believe”.

No, we need something simpler to use when describing why our organization exists to stakeholders that may not have a firsthand experience with the impact that FFA makes. Luckily, the National FFA organization is filled with talented people that have already given us the roadmap to use – the FFA Vision Statement.

The full Vision Statement reads like this - Students whose lives are impacted by FFA and agricultural education will achieve academic and personal growth, strengthen American agriculture and provide leadership to build healthy local communities, a strong nation and a sustainable world. That is still a fairly long statement to explain, so they even shortened it to 3 main parts – FFA Grows Leaders, Builds Communities, and Strengthens Agriculture.

This vision says something truly profound, because it goes further than explaining what student’s gain from being a part of this organization. It is a statement about what happens beyond this organization. Ultimately, it’s a statement about why this organization matters to everyone, not just the students that were fortunate enough to have experienced it firsthand. It sets the stage for the what we do by explaining why we do it.

Grow leaders, build communities, and strengthen agriculture. These three statements are something that any person can buy into. So the next time someone asks you about the importance of FFA, explain the vision of FFA. Talk about how FFA has grown you as a leader both within and outside of FFA, how your chapter helps to build your community because of the leadership you have gained, and how there are over 629,000 young agriculturalists across this country that are working to make agriculture as strong as it ever has been. Because remember, people don’t buy what you do, they buy why you do it.

Michael Tupper

2016 Iowa FFA National Officer Candidate

Coming Full Circle

        Being part of the ag ed and FFA program at Dysart under Mr. Irv Meier was nothing short of spectacular. As I look back to my days in FFA, I recall that Irv was there with me every step of the blue and gold journey. Driving me and my fellow FFA members across Iowa in his brown Ford van to countless contests, meetings, conventions and places I had never been before.  Helping me to start and grow my sheep and swine SAE. Checking my recordbook. I even remember one time when I almost didn’t get to show my lambs at the Tama County Fair until Irv had officially verified that my sheep recordbook was up to date. It was that kind of guidance and discipline that helped to shape me and make my FFA experience so incredibly rewarding. Irv genuinely cared about me, and it showed in every class he taught, every early morning practice he hosted, every visit to our family farm, every livestock judging work-out, every application I ever filled out, and every award or contest that I was fortunate enough to be part of in FFA. Irv Meier was the kind of leader that I aspired to be. Lead by example. Give more than you take. Be a role model to others. Try something new. Work hard. Be nice to people. Don’t give up, even when you get beat at something you really wanted to do.

I realize now that apparently Irv had some kind of “partnership” with my parents. The three of them must have secretly conspired to make sure that they would collectively do all that they could to support me, encourage me, coach me, push me and help me make the most of my FFA experience. My parents and Irv were partners in my agricultural education, and are the reason I have spent my entire career working in the livestock industry.
Fast forward 30-some years later to 2016. As I watch my own two daughters in their agricultural pursuits, including working with their SAE projects in our barn, I can only hope that their experiences will be equally fulfilling.  Doing chores. Caring for a sick pig. Shearing a lamb.   Packing up the livestock trailer for county fair and the state fair.  Serving as an FFA officer. Being part of a contest team. Taking photos. The list goes on. Nevertheless, my role is different now. As a parent, I work with my husband to offer praise when it is due, and encouragement when it is needed, to each of our daughters.

Recently, I attended an industry food safety seminar at the FFA Enrichment Center in Ankeny. To my surprise, I was seated next to Brian Schoeberl, who I had attended the Washington Leadership Conference with in 1980. It was Irv Meier who drove us, and about 20 other FFA members from the northeast district to Washington DC that year. While it had been many years since I had seen Brian, we talked about how we enjoyed our WLC experience and how much we appreciated our respective ag teachers and FFA experiences.

Ironically, my oldest daughter attended the Washington Leadership Conference last month on the Iowa FFA travel bus. Maybe in a few years she will sit next to someone she met at WLC, and reflect on all that FFA meant to her as she pursues what’s ahead for her.  Most importantly, I hope that my two daughters can enjoy and appreciate their FFA opportunities and experiences as they take part in all that they choose to do in the next few years.

Kristi Krafka

Kristi Krafka is the vice president of regulatory affairs for Kemin Animal Nutrition and Health in Des Moines, Iowa.  Kristi was born and raised on a row crop and livestock farm near Dysart, Iowa, where she developed her passion for animal agriculture. She served as a local, district and state FFA officer, also earning the Iowa FFA Sheep Proficiency Award and her Iowa and American Degrees. She is a graduate of Iowa State University.

Be Something Great

The scoreboard read 3.5, legs were burning, sweat dripping, and heart pounding as the need to stand up to win the wrestling match would then win us the dual. Our school’s rival across the mat going just as crazy as we were and the packed gymnasium with a spotlight indicating all eyes were on this match. The stakes were on the line and all that had to happen was one standup to score that excruciating one point. Going through my mind was how hard the sport actually is. Endless days where you get up before the sun, go to school, work all day, go to practice and sweat through your clothes, open the door to the school at the end of the day and realize you didn’t get the chance to see the sun that day. So God made a wrestler.

            Hi, I’m Cully Forsyth, this year’s North Central State Vice President and I am excited to serve the FFA this year! I grew up on a farm just outside small town Charles City, Iowa and would enjoy the opportunity to get to know you in the future.

            I would love to tell you that I got out. That I scored that point to win our team the dual. To become the hero and have all that hard work pay off. But I didn’t. In fact, this story was about my brother, Wyatt. Even though he got the athletic ability, I felt like I was on the mat with him every time I watched from the stands. The epitome of a wrestler, he had the mindset to do anything he set his mind to and I believe we should all hold this ability.

            Even though I didn’t find my niche in athletics, I found it in other things. Showing pigs, playing the drum set, reading the Harry Potter series, and, my favorite of all, the FFA! I found it in these activities because I was eager and willing to get involved. Whether you are into drama, band, athletics, hopefully academics, or many other groups, it’s so important to find something you love and do it with a passion. The experience you will receive will benefit you so greatly in the future. Don’t pass up the opportunity to become a better person.

             Ever since I was a little boy my mom would always read to my two brothers and I the book, “The Tale of Three Trees” by Angela Elwell Hunt. If you have never read this traditional folktale, the story goes a little something like this. As all three trees grew up on a hill, side by side, they all aspired to be something great. One a treasure chest to hold many valuable treasures. The next a large ship to carry important material in wild seas, and the last to just simply grow as tall as possible to see over the village. As axmen came to chop them down, they were all built into something they did not expect, something they were unaware that was actually very important to everyone in the world. This story relates to my life and possibly yours as well. We all have an idea of what we picture our lives to be after school but most of the time we end up in places that are different from that vision. Better places than we’d ever imagine and as I look to the future I am so excited to take on the year with such an awesome team to wherever this journey takes me. We have the opportunity to work with passionate FFA members and business professionals throughout our busy year.  If you happen to see myself or the team anywhere whether in the blue corduroy or not, we’d love to talk to you.

            Most importantly, get involved with anything you want to pursue. It doesn’t have to be FFA (even though I do suggest it) it can be anything that is interesting to you, talk to people and learn what they love to do and enjoy your time in high school. Lastly, have the mindset of a wrestler, to complete that standup, to do anything you want to, and use your passion, hard work, and ambition to be something great.

Cully Forsyth

North Central State Vice President

What the Street Would Say

Some would say it was a dumb idea, but I like to believe that dumb is just another word for adventurous, and well-trodden Westview Drive in humble Milford, Iowa, with its torn up curbs and patched up lines, was the perfect place for adventure. Granted, being pulled along in a red wagon attached to a bike was not the smartest idea, but the fun I had in this little neighborhood made me into the young agriculturalist that I am today. My recent travels around the state and frequent three hour drives to our Enrichment Center in Ankeny have me thinking: if a street could share its stories, whether they be fun, dumb, sad, or bad, how have these memories shaped us into the men and women we are today?

For me, one of the greatest tales on Westview was of a certain “family.” On a similar heated summer afternoon, four young kids, all along the ages of six to nine, were walking along in the perfect family image. The beaming “father” was laughing with his “son” while the caring “mother” was pushing her gigantically oversized “baby” in a comparably small stroller. Neighbors beamed out their windows at the scene, the children becoming the ideal American family.

“I don’t know why you always want to be the baby, Blake, but you’re the only one small enough to fit in the stroller!” squealed the “son”.

I didn’t mind being the baby. It had ultimately more benefits than any of the other family roles. I didn’t have to say anything, I had no responsibilities, and, best of all, I could lay back in a retro-styled stroller while my neighbors took turns pushing me. Who gets the last laugh now?

When it came to laughs, Westview was the holy grail. One spring day, my neighbor’s youngest son, a bouncy six year old, was running about the lawn. The recent morning rain had washed through the streets, settling into the enlarging cracks and crevices. The boy, despite gaping mud puddles, had on his new pair of denim shorts with all his toys scattered about--in particular was his glimmering yellow Tonka truck.

The neighbor’s house sits strangely on a hillish-plot, and like a surfer gracing the tide, the juvenile glided down the cement in his Tonka truck, hitting the v-shaped dent where the street and driveway came together with a forceful thud. He did this enduring task with ease several times: fly down the hill, his blonde hair flowing behind his ears, hit the road with a thud, and then drag the beaten truck back up the hill. You’d suppose a youngster would get bored of the makeshift slide eventually.

Negatory. In fact, his adventure had only begun.

After the twentieth time, he finally caved and decided it was time for a rest. Taking his break on the side of the street, he used his Tonka as a makeshift chair. My mother, being the curious and maternal sort, watched over him through our living room window.

Then, without warning, the kid stood up, pulled down his denim shorts and proceeded to use the yellow truck as a real dump truck. My mom lost it, laughing uncontrollably all about the living room. After peeking out the window myself, I chuckled silently and went about the rest of the day.

We never talked about it again.

In addition to the laughs, Westview is known for its sadder moments. It was the fall of my sophomore year, and I was in the kitchen making my typical breakfast of honey toast and cereal when I glanced out the window. Is that a single snow patch in our backyard? What kind of act is Mother Nature pulling here? I wondered as I checked through the bigger windows, hoping for a better glance. Too “busy” to see myself, I decided to send my brother outside to check. It could have been a rabid creature or something my two labradors heaved up; they’ve been known to throw up leftover fur and bits from racoons they find while hunting. It’s a dog thing.

I made my sandwich while peering out the window, watching my brother creep towards the white snowball. When he got close, I immediately saw his face change from curiosity to complete horror. Could it be something from one of the dogs? Did they get into a fight? I bet Maddie bit off Sam’s leg. She’s the alpha “male”. When Austin came back inside, I could see something was real off.

“So? What is it?”

He took a quick breath in, staring at the snowy patch.

“The new neighbor’s cat must have found a hole in the fence.”

My heart sank like the Titanic. I couldn’t help but imagine the last few moments of that adventurous cat’s life, and bets are that it wasn’t pleasant. Worst off, now we’d have to tell someone. If only I hadn’t seen it, I would have never sent Austin outside. Of course, it would be the Lineweavers’ dogs that kicked the new residents off Westview.

When my dad got home, like children who broke Mother’s favorite lamp, we told him of the gruesome deed. He let out a sigh and went to inform our neighbor of their pet's passing. I recall sitting anxiously on the couch, still imagining that cat’s final moments in my mind.

Only 15 minutes had passed when my dad came back. He was calm, almost serene.

“She understands. The cat shouldn’t have went through the fence.”

Years later, she put her teal house up for sale. The dogs, thankfully, aged far beyond their aggresive years.

The young one across the street is now a seventh grader and understands the difference between a “public” bathroom and a dump truck. At least, we hope.

The family of four is nothing more than a beaten up stroller, locked away in my friend’s old shed. Three of those four have moved on to college, one almost ready to start a family--a real family, that is.

The youthful years have past, but these memories have left a heavy impact on my life. A street, like the rest of us, has a story to be told: it can hold so many memories, even with periodical floods that seem to wash everything else away. So many of us move away from our homes for college or go on other adventures, never giving our communities a proper thank you. Therefore, I thank you, Westview, in remote, rural Iowa, for being the greatest keeper of heartfelt secrets, gardener to many beautiful flower beds, and storyteller for all ages.

Blake Lineweaver

Northwest State Vice President