Growing up, 4-H was simply part of life.

There’s a reason the U.S. House passed the AM Radio for Every Vehicle Act — and for those of us who live and work in rural America, that reason hits pretty close to home.

If you really want to rebuild America’s cow herd, go where the cows are and listen to the people who own them.

Farmers will have to decide where technology genuinely adds value and where it simply adds another bill.

For many of us whose roots run deep on a family farm, land isn’t just an asset. It provides food, supports wildlife, filters water and tells the story of generations who have cared for it.

Good government isn’t always about passing more laws. Sometimes it’s about making sure the ones we already have are enforced and still make sense.

It is important to break the stigma around mental health challenges and encourage those struggling to reach out for help.

Few phrases in rural America carry more weight than eminent domain.

The national debt’s influence reaches into nearly every corner of our economy.

This country was built by ordinary men and women willing to do extraordinary things.

As we gather this Fourth of July, it’s worth remembering and mentioning that the safest, most abundant and affordable food supply in the world happens because farmers and ranchers continue showing up every day despite the challenges.

For most of my life, I assumed everyone’s dad worked as hard as mine. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized what I witnessed growing up wasn’t something everyone experienced.

As I walked through the exhibits and visited with producers, industry leaders and exhibitors at the 2026 World Pork Expo, I couldn’t help but reflect on how dramatically pork production has evolved over the years.

Life on the farm now smells like hard work, sunshine and memories. It smells like fresh-cut hay drying in the field, warm soil after a rain, leather gloves and diesel fuel clinging to hot tractor engines.

If we want this way of life to be here for the next generation, we must be willing to speak up for it by showing up in conversations where decisions are made and making sure rural voices are heard.

Another class of young people will soon head out to find their place in the world. No matter how far they roam, they will carry a piece of home with them. And home is always rooting for them.

For my entire adult life, I’ve heard people talk about what’s closing, what’s changing and what’s next in their rural hometowns. Maybe those small towns aren’t dying, but instead adapting.

The younger professionals entering ag marketing today bring a different kind of energy.

Graduation season isn’t just about diplomas and tassels. It’s about what comes next and the people who help get you there.

Land in the Midwest is not just dirt. It’s legacy, livelihood and, increasingly, a line in the sand.

There has never been more information available to farmers than there is today — and yet, in many ways, it’s never been harder to know who or what to trust.

As April 1 rolls around each year, I’m mentally transported back to 1985, when I went from student teaching in a high school ag classroom to work at a local radio station.

Orion Samuelson wasn’t my formal mentor, but he didn’t have to be. His work ethic spoke louder than any lesson plan ever could.

There is no doubt artificial intelligence has the potential to help agriculture tackle some big challenges. But like any new technology it also comes with risks we shouldn’t ignore.

Shamrocks, tied forever to St. Patrick, symbolize growth and renewal — things farmers understand better than anyone.

The blue jacket isn’t just something I talk about. It’s something I’ve lived.

For people in agriculture and rural communities, take heed: We work outside where ticks thrive, and one small bite can create a life-changing food allergy.

Agriculture has never been just about acres, animals, or equipment. It’s about people. It’s about families, partnerships, neighbors and communities whose lives are tied to the land and to each other.

If your sadness ever becomes too heavy and you feel unsafe, overwhelmed, or find yourself thinking about harming yourself, please don’t carry that alone.

The long days, unpredictable weather, volatile markets and rising input costs rarely factor into conversations at the grocery store or the checkout line.

There’s something magical about Christmas on the farm. The stars in the sky reflecting off of a snowy field, the quiet hum of a heater in the barn office and that sense of peace that comes from being surrounded by open space and loved ones.

If people invested even a fraction of the money they pour into massive animal “rights” organizations into helping children in this country, the impact could be nothing short of transformative.

Each year during the holiday season, I sit down and make a list of things for which I am truly thankful. Some entries never change. These constants anchor my list, reminding me of the steady gifts that shape my life.

As December draws near, one thing is certain in workplaces across every rural county: the season of feasting is in full swing.

The news that the last American penny has been minted feels a bit like watching an old barn finally sag to the ground.

The Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program feeds more than 41 million people in America every month. That’s roughly one in eight people in this country.

This month of October marks the 40th anniversary of Breast Cancer Awareness Month — four decades of pink ribbons, awareness campaigns, survivor stories and a growing sense of community around a disease that affects millions every year.

Reporting on something doesn’t mean endorsing it. It means recognizing that the issue exists, that it matters and that the audience deserves to understand all sides of it — even the ones that make us uncomfortable.

It might not come up much at the grain elevator or after church potlucks, but it is something all of us who live out here where the pavement ends need to embrace: cybersecurity.

History isn’t just a record of what once was. It’s a guide for what could be, if we fail to learn from the mistakes of those who came before us.

Farmers, ranchers and others living in rural America don’t have time for partisan games. That is why I believe the new Rural Health Transformation Program deserves a closer look.

This week is National Farm Safety and Health Week, but let’s be honest — every week should be.

Anyone who’s worked the land or run a small-town business knows luck might play a role, but it never works alone.

I can’t control what others say — but I can choose to speak up, share facts and encourage curiosity over fear.

This year’s Farm Progress Show was all about the future — autonomy, efficiency and sustainability were on full display.

There’s something deeply gratifying about reporting on 4-H and FFA members who are raising animals, showing livestock and learning responsibility through hands-on work.

In small towns and rural communities across America, hunger often hides in plain sight.

Last year, about this time, I wrote a column about putting things in perspective and understanding the national debt. The number that was the focus of my writing was 35 trillion. But, alas, a year has passed, and a new number has taken its place.

Many of us grew up in homes where words like “please,” “thank you” and “you’re welcome” were as routine as brushing your teeth. These were not just phrases. They were signs of character.

I recently watched a PBS segment about the Lenape tribe of Native Americans, and one line in particular stuck with me. While sharing a traditional meal, an elder said, “Food anchors a community.”