The May term ended yesterday, and the students left Iowa returning to their homes in West Virginia, Washington, Florida, North Carolina, and South Carolina.  I have remained in the Hawkeye States for a few more days to bat clean up with my sister.  But I am taking a break from the mundane to reflect on this experience from my vantage point.

Furman touts its commitment to engaged learning, and it has done so for many years.  I was the University’s first Director of Engaged Learning, serving in that post from 1997-2003.  During my professional career, I have served as the President of the Faculty Special Interest Group of the National Society for Experiential Education and the President of the Undergraduate Education Section of the American Political Science Association.  I’ve published essays on the importance of internships in enhancing the quality of undergraduate education, particularly among liberal arts students.  For many years, I’ve led Furman’s mock trial program, a stellar example of transforming students from bench warmers to players in the learning process.

As a result of my previous involvement with experiential education, I am familiar with its principles.  Perhaps the most central tenent of the experiential pedagogy is that the professor moves being the “sage on the stage” to being a coach or a facilitator of learning.  Experiential educators believe that seeing, tasting, and participating in an activity, especially when coupled with significant reflection, leads to a richer learning experience, and one that has staying power for the students.  This kind of learning is often far messier than conducting a course in the classroom–the professor has a large amount of control over the content of the course, and the information contained in the course can be arranged in a logical fashion.  The traditional classroom makes ample use of deductive approaches, while students engaged in an experiential course typically employ inductive logic to make sense of their subject.  Experiential courses do not have disciplinary walls–the academy may be organized by subjects, but the world is not.

Nonetheless, my nearly 25 years of teaching and writing about experiential education did not adequately prepare me for what happened during Farm.

1. I truly could not be the sage on the stage because I do not know the agriculture policy area.  Often times, I think experiential educators can twist an experience for students because it is being arranged in a way that is deductive in orientation and reflects the professors’ expertise in the area.  The distinct disadvantage I faced–not knowing the ag policy area–soon became an advantage.  I was learning along with the students.  While I had read and thought about the topic for more than a year that seemed a minor advantage.  That only meant that I knew the broad parameters of the topic.  The fact that I knew less about the subject’s content, let the experience develop organically; I couldn’t superimpose a logic over a subject area in which I was not the content expert.  I depended on others to help me decide which experiences should be included in the student’s tour.  So experts were involved, but much less so than I envision in the typical course.

2. My students have discussed the many miles logged in the Roadmaster.  I never gave a thought to exactly how many miles we would be driving or what impact it would have on our learning environment.  My conclusion is that it made our group far stronger.  I was blessed to have students who were not divas, and they had a strong sense of who had sat on the hump in the front seat for the longest period of time.  There is something about being cramped in a car on a regular basis that provides a new dimension to the experience–and, it is especially memorable if you’ve just been processing chickens, inseminating pigs, or dairying!  Maybe my colleagues in the natural sciences or health sciences know about the impact of physicality on learning, but this was a very knew kind of learning for me, and I believe for me students.  I liked it–it enhanced the learning experience.

3. Furman is famous for its home-grown study away projects, but Farm pushed that definition even further.  Since the students lived in the farm house I own with my brother and sister, I was at one point a host as well as a professor.  Everyone in my family (sister, brother, brother-in-law, sister-in-law, nephew, and spouse) had a role in preparing the house for the students.  My sister assumed the role of house mother for three weeks, and she was amazing.  I took on the role of chauffeur driving the students to all of the sites and picking them up at the airport in Des Moines.  Our library was located at the house, and it consisted of all of the books on agricultural policy that I could pack into my car.  The bonus room in the house became the place that we met for reflection and discussion sessions–the living room was where we viewed the many videos watched during the term.  Farm was most assuredly a “home-grown” study away experience.

4. I am still working through how the teaching experience was different because it was so deeply personal.  To share a portion of your life’s experience with your students is a component of any good course, especially at an institution that prides itself on developing personal relationships between a faculty member and a student.  Farm, however, meant sharing the place where you grew up.  It is a level of exposure of one’s self that is atypical and somewhat intimidating. And, add into the mix that you also are exposing your siblings to this kind of scrutiny.  “Teaching” with my sister and brother and having their voices included was one of the real blessings of the course–not because we agreed, but because it gave the students a varied view farm life.  Add in one’s neighbors and friends, who also have stories to tell, and well, one’s life becomes quite an open book.   And the impact of the experience is hardly uni-directional from the “adults” to the students.  The experience also had an impact on my view of the past–literally writing and rewriting one’s own past.  But if one is going to truly understand the way in which an agricultural community operates, it starts with the way in which family and neighbor networks operate.  And for the students to understand something about community, it means exposing them to these complex interrelationships, even if the interrelationships are those which directly involve the professor of record.  I suspect sociologists steeped in qualitative methodologies would say that I am both the phenomenon as well as the investigator of the phenomenon.

5. It is unclear to me how living in a house for a period of three weeks (with no opportunity to leave) has an impact on the learning experience.  But it does strike me as a unique aspect of the course.  The students had to learn to live with some serious constraints, and, yet, they did so.  I think that they learned a great deal about themselves as a result of living together, preparing food together, and studying together.  The students, too, were exposed to their professor in a way that is highly unusual.  Again, I am unsure of the impact on the learning environment, except that my provisional assessment is a positive one.

6. This course required that I was often a student–listening to lectures, presentations, etc.  What an amazing experience to be on the other side of the podium after so many years.  It was humbling to think about how to improve the quality of one’s own teaching by observing others, and also to engage students about which presentations were more effective in their minds and why.

I am confident that over time, I’ll think of more ways in which Farm pushed the envelope of my thinking about teaching in general and the experiential pedagogy in particular.  But for now, these are my musings.

The stinging sensation along the range of my right forearm has been a nagging reminder of actions five hours past. Though the nettles, applied for their medicinal properties, have long been removed, their namesake continues to drag my attention to the slowly shrinking, pulsing blisters where their barbs still inject venom to my veins. Through the annoyance (calling the feeling “painful” is a gross overstatement), thoughts flutter wondering how much longer the tingling will last. Effectively, my arm is awake yet feels asleep as if its circulation has been cut off, begging for restoration of its lifeblood. Similar to a blood deprived appendage, only time will heal the nettle’s caress.

At 6:30 A.M tomorrow morning, I will be departing Iowa. I am very excited to get home and get back to my routines at home, but man these three weeks have provided lots of opportunities to gain insights into farming.  I feel so blessed to have met the people I have and learned so much during the past three weeks. It has definitely been an experience from riding in the Roadmaster, meeting Kelvin Leibold, and artificially inseminating sows–but nonetheless, those experiences added some spark to the trip.

The day before the flight that brings me home.
New thoughts, ideas, and concepts buzz around
My head, though an opinion still does roam
Resulting from our studies of the ground.

I ponder what to tell them of my trip.
Perhaps the glory of the life bestowed
In puppies, piglets, calves, and seeds that grip
The soil. And speakers from much different roads.

Or shall I tell them of the crazy days
Like those consumed with smell of pig manure,
And early morn’s where coffee only fades the haze.
Or people I think sanity’s unsure.

Though speedy winds will give me no reprieve
From Iowa I do not wish to leave

Over the time that I’ve been here, I’ve noticed that many family farmers are wondering which of their children will take over the farm. Some kids already show interest; others need some prodding. The 4H club is a way for parents to get their kids started by participating in various farm-related things such as showing animals, researching animals or plants, cooking, or other “farm” related tasks. This  is a good way for kids to learn responsibility and the ability to speak in front of a judge, which are good skills for later in life. It is interesting though how parents want to push this on their children when the goal is for them to take over the family farm. It is almost as though the child has to fulfill a destiny; one of the children has to take over the farm or else it will go under or go into another company or person’s hands. There is a great responsibility that the kids of farmers bear without even choosing to do so in the first place. Sure, the kids could say that they don’t want to farm, but there is the pressure from their parents and the kids want to live up to the parents’ expectations that could sway them to stay and work on the farm. I’m not saying that no child of a farmer dreams of becoming a farmer, but that it is a responsibility that they carry from the moment they are born. This must bring a interesting family dynamic to the table.

Another thing to consider is the strain it might put on a farm marriage. If things are going poorly such as the farm crisis in the 1980s, fighting will ensue over the family’s finances–always a popular topic for marital disputes. Again the issue of the kids will rise. One parent might not want to push their kids towards farming, and another fight would arrise. This is another example of how farming has and never will be an easy lifestyle. The wife and husband might also differ in their opinion of how the farm should be run, what should be purchased, and/or whether the farm should be operated as an organic or commodity entity.

Sadly, I have no personal experience with this family dynamic, but it would be a fascinating topic for a psychological study. Farm families have to deal with the traditional pressures of life in addition to the family strains of farming. You also have to take into account that farming as a family would be able to bring everyone together. Also, take into account how well off the farmers are on their land, and how well the sales are for that year. As I’ve said before, I am actually rather sad that their aren’t more psychological studies about farming and farm families. Farmers may constitute an extraordinarily small portion of our country’s population, but these people are in charge of our food system, and we need to better under the psychology of those who make up this critical sector of our economy.

Today, I was fortunate enough to follow Representative Annette Sweeney to Parkersburg, Iowa Falls, and Buckeye. She attended four Memorial Day services and was the keynote speaker for two of the services.  She also attended her hometown’s Memorial Day cookout.

I started out the day leaving the farm house at 5:55 A.M to meet up with her, her son, and her campaign manager at her farm down the road. We left the house around 6:30 and had an hour drive to Parkersburg, Iowa. We then enjoyed a pancake breakfast that was put on by the American Legion POST 285. It was delicious, and I really enjoyed it. There were three Memorial Day services in Parkersburg. The first was done by a river, and a wreath was placed out on the river to float away. The other two services were done beside a cemetery. All three services included a gun salute. She spoke at the third service. Her message was very touching, and everyone seem to enjoy it. Her speeches were delivered with great passion and they evoked emotions in those in the audience, and those emotions connected her connect to the people.

After the third service was completed at Parkersburg, we traveled to Iowa Falls, where a memorial service similar to the last service at Parkersburg was held. She spoke once again evoking the same powerful and moving themes and delivering it in a manner that reached out to people. All of the services included a high school band playing the “Star Spangled Banner.”  Both times after she spoke, her son Jim sang “God Bless America” with the crowd joining.

The service in Iowa Falls was over around 11:30 and then we took off to stop and get some food at Hy-Vee to take to the annual Memorial Day picnic in her hometown of Buckeye. There I got to meet her neighbors and friends. Everyone socialized and had a great time!

I had a great time shadowing Representative Sweeney. I learned a great deal about the characteristics of a great leader that I can use at Furman and beyond, especially since I hope to one day be involved in politics.  I hope I can be as successful as Representative Sweeney. She has so much fire and determination; it amazes me. She really tries to please the people, which is characteristic of a great politician. I can’t wait to see the results of her primary race. I will definitely be rooting for her from North Carolina and hopefully I can stay in contact with her for many years to come!

My relative neutrality of opinion (or simple ignorance) on the subject of agriculture actually served to better my absorption of the wide variety of  viewpoints that we have encountered over the course of three weeks in Iowa. If I had entered the state with established opinions on any of the topics covered, I would have had little difficulty in simply blocking out contrasting perspectives and feeding on those in accordance with my beliefs. Thankfully, I  possessed the capacity to hear out both sides from a relatively neutral standpoint and the ability to make up my own mind on the matter. Following nearly three weeks of reflection, my opinions have formed in a way similar to the irritatingly vague conclusions of Patrick Westhoff in our text, The Economics of Food.

Although humans prefer the security of a concrete and well-established conclusion, the majority of issues surrounding modern agricultural debates remain multifaceted and complex – no simple answers are available. Nearly every person or organization we met presented a diverse but valid set of facts and a well-constructed message.  A great deal of overlap existed between many speakers. For example, the Iowa Corn Growers Association and the Iowa Soybean Association shared several common goals, one of which centered on lobbying for a higher gas tax in the state to fund infrastructure development. After all, a functioning rural infrastructure aids farmers in delivering both corn and soybeans to the market.

Environmental groups oftentimes demonize production agriculture; however, farmers who actively engage in such practices usually acknowledge their flaws and work with environmentalists towards a cooperative solution.  Many commodity farmers stressed the importance of environmental protection in the form of nitrogen reduction and soil conservation techniques; such practices are quite common here in Iowa. Groups such as the ISA’s On-Farm Network and Practical Farmers of Iowa (PFI) actively engage farmers and allow them to participate in the research and decision making process. The Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) collaborates with such groups in a constructive manner, compromising with agriculture groups and delivering results. Without discussion from both sides, issues will never be resolved. Our gridlocked Congress ought to observe the cooperation going on in Iowa between diverse interest groups and take note.

No one person professed a singular and all-inclusive solution to the future of agricultural production. Instead, everyone acknowledged the need for cooperation and a diverse market. Production agriculturalists praised organic and sustainable growers for meeting a growing market demand while expressing concern for the viability of large-scale food production using such methods. Sustainable growers (such as those at the Wallace Farm) criticized many aspects of commodity farming, but also acknowledged the inherent difficulties of their practices as well. Both sides also expressed displeasure at current methods of government regulation and funding for various initiatives.

Over the duration of nearly three weeks in Iowa I have been exposed to a staggering quantity of information in a wide variety of formats, from classroom-style lectures to hands-on activities. I entered this experience looking to gain the information necessary to make my own mind up on agricultural policy. No doubt I have enough information to formulate informed opinions; however, sifting through all of it to arrive at a cohesive viewpoint will prove to be a difficult task.

Memorial Day in the Garden City/Radcliffe area is commemorated by services at the Garden City, Zion Lutheran Church, and Radcliffe cemeteries.  Members of the local American Legion conduct each service, and this year, Farm’s Sam Burgess, offered to serve as the trumpeter.  Sam is an accomplished music student; he holds a music scholarship at Furman, and he spent two summers with the Boston Crusaders, a drum and bugle corps.  All was well until, I discovered that I locked the keys in the car that contained Sam’s trumpet.  All of this was discovered at the very last minute, so the ceremonies at Garden City and Zion were conducted sans trumpet.  Due to the resourcefulness of community members, however, two trumpets were produced by the time of the final ceremony at Radcliffe, and Sam’s beautiful rendition of “Taps” and “The Star Spangled Banner” sang out above the Radcliffe cemetery.

So much of this trip has been a time of discovery and rediscovery.  Today, I learned that veterans of both the Confederacy and the Union are buried in the Radcliffe cemetery.  The amazing sacrifices of so many were made clear by the moving memorials at all three cemeteries.

There were three stars today–Dennis Friest, our neighbor, Denny, my brother, and my friend, Morris Stole. Herr Friest  secured trumpets by the time we arrived in Radcliffe; he also found a way to conduct the ceremonies in Radcliffe and Zion in a seamless manner; Denny, my brother, finally unlatched the lock to my car door.  There were times when it looked like it might require breaking a window, so I was thankful that a less invasive method worked.  Morris took Sam and me to the Zion and Radcliffe cemeteries.  The folks out here live in a community, and I was reminded of that fact, again.