President’s Day week-for four years this week meant everything
to me- from my Freshman Greenhand days till my Senior banquet it meant one
thing National FFA Week. Future
Farmers of America. It meant muddy trucks, fundraiser lunches, blue and gold
and country attire days. Even though I hung up my jacket almost a year and a
half ago some things haven’t changed.
We were laughed at, for being yes, a favorite mocking and mature
nickname, the Future Faggots of America. We were laughed at for our black
skirts, our panty hose and heels and our dress scarves and corduroy national
blue jackets and being able to recite our Creed from heart.
We were mocked by students and teachers alike for being so
serious, we weren’t a real club, we didn’t do anything and we certainly weren’t
an athletic club so we had no real standing with most schools and our classes
weren’t for “booksmarts” as some teachers had said . Clearly, these people had
never even wondered down the CTE (career and technical education) hallway,
because we had more real world experience and skills than anyone just playing
ball and just hitting the books.
From my most humiliating experience Freshman year in public
speaking (first time ever speaking in
front of people, Mr. Goetten’s 6th hour shop class, all boys Juniors
and Seniors, horrible flashbacks) to walking across that Illinois State FFA
Convention stage to receive my State Degree a month after my high school graduation
and everything in between, I lived to serve.
Most people see the FFA for what it is based upon, agriculture,
the center for our little (haha) club. But our family is so much more. The
Association prides itself on leadership, teamwork, personal growth and being
America proud. Our colors are chosen by those are nation chose to live by, our
flags fly proudly, our pledge said proudly hands over our hearts and our hearts
belong to the America we work to serve and live our lives to feed.
Through my CDE’s (career development event) I learned how to
judge livestock on its conformation and its ability to serve us for food, how
to judge meat and milk products based on its quality for our intake and
nutrition, how to tell apart weeds and seeds, how to run a business and how to
run a meeting according to Roberts Rules of Parliamentary Order, and how to give
a speech to a room full of people without panicking. I learned how to serve my
school, my community, and strangers all through my service to one association.
I went in a bratty kid and came out-well an older kid but a
little less a brat- and came out with connections of friends all over the state,
friends who have continued their service to agriculture at a political and
spokesperson positions. Who as college aged students are across the country and
running with the “big boys” and playing key roles in agriculture at the public
level and caring for us plain old run of the mill farmers.
Being a FFA member didn’t just meaning being an aggie it
meant being a family. FFA doesn’t just mean Future Farmers of America; it means
Friends Forever and Always.
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