MFA has helped thousands of kids head to college; now, let's bring them home.
When people ask me what I think about the future of agriculture, I tell them that I’m all for it. You probably are, too. And so when it comes time to celebrate something like the 50th anniversary of the MFA Foundation, an organization that has contributed some $10 million to about 10,000 rural students, it’s easy to wax on about how we’ve invested in our future.
Yet during a presidential campaign season, there ought to be a steadfast rule in any kind of journalism: Don’t write an editorial that waxes on about the investment we’re making in the future by investing in our youth today. Why? Because for the past months there has been a mind-dulling drone emanating from politicians about how much they care for your kids. Every bit of their platform is “for the children.” To jump on the bandwagon is to ask for well-earned cynicism.
But there is no avoiding that to parents everywhere, children are the most precious thing. Wrap up the most profound notions from religion, philosophy and biology, and then distill them to their very essence. The result is a child—a child who releases our deepest urge to nurture. No wonder politicians evoke our children in emotional blackmail to earn our vote. And no wonder we keep on giving to rural youth. You can’t employ enough cynicism to change it: From the lumpy diapered to the most sullen teen, these kids are our future.
We always fret about leaving our children in a better situation than we’ve endured. But try as we might, we too often fail. Rather than focus on our failings and our improbable success of leaving something better for the next generation, why not give them the ability to make it better themselves? That is what scholarships do. They help provide the tools needed for the next generation to navigate not just what we’ve left behind, but the organic advance of society.
That is a bit obvious, isn’t it? It’s probably said at every high school graduation in the Midwest. There is, however, a subtler message delivered to our rural youth when they get a local scholarship. These scholarships are a signal that there is something good out here. It is a signal that agriculture and rural culture are worth investing a life. It’s a signal to our youth that we want them back.
If you are interested in small towns and agriculture retaining bright young minds, consider this welcoming back a sacred duty. It wasn’t done overtly for my generation or the ones before, and I think it would have helped.
We need to begin thinking like the Brookfield Area Growth Partnership, which, at the 2007 Brookfield, Mo., high school graduation ceremony, handed out personalized mailboxes to the graduates. Inside the mailbox was a message addressed to the student, which read:
Because we have shared in your life and watched with pride as your individual contributions have become a part of our town’s history; the entire Brookfield community, school, city, organizations, businesses and citizens reach out to you at graduation and extend this invitation to always consider this special place your home.
To keep our rural youth, this is a message that can’t continue to be implied. It must be said in word and deed. The MFA Foundation scholarship cuts a wide swath across MFA’s trade territory. As I mentioned, it has helped about 10,000 students attain higher education at a cost of some $10 million. That is a stunning deed, I think. Now, let us remember the words. Tell those students we’ll always welcome them home. And employ yourself in ensuring there is something for them to return to.
Click here to respond to this article
Top of page
