Leading in Agriculture When You Don’t Fit the Mold

Can you be a leader in agriculture when you don’t fit the traditional mold?

Agriculture has strong traditions, and much of the time, leadership in this space often looks like one type of person, one kind of voice. Often, people who are different from the status quo (whether by beliefs, gender, race, or sexual orientation) can be made to feel like leadership in this space isn’t for them.

But the truth is, leadership takes many forms, and it doesn’t always look like standing at the front of a room with a microphone in hand.

Reading JJ Jones’s story reminded me of that. He grew up in the livestock world, found his career in animal agriculture, and today he and his husband live openly as gay men in rural Kansas. His journey is proof that leadership can come from showing up authentically, even in places where it hasn’t always felt possible.

What does leadership look like for me as a gay man in agriculture?

1. The quiet ways leadership shows up

For a long time, I was told leadership had to be big, bold, and loud. You stand in front, you make the speeches, you push change head-on. But over the years, I’ve realized leadership often shows up in quieter ways.

Sometimes it’s the decision to be visible when it would be easier to stay quiet. It can be the way you choose to be present in a meeting or how you respond when someone makes a derogatory remark. Or it’s asking a difficult question at the right moment and choosing to listen when your gut reaction might be defensive.

Leadership can also look like showing up consistently as myself, even when that feels vulnerable. And creating space for others to feel like they can do the same.

One of the small ways I chose to show up this summer was by wearing a small Pride bracelet to be more visible and supportive of those around me. It’s been a conversation starter about Pride and allyship and creating a space where others know they can belong.

Those small actions add up. They set a tone. And they show people that leadership isn’t just about titles. It’s about how you live out your life day to day.

2. Leading with authenticity

There’s a tension that comes with being “different” in agriculture. On one hand, you want to lead and create change. On the other, you sometimes feel the need to protect yourself from judgment, misunderstanding, or discrimination. I’ve felt that tension more times than I can count.

Is that tension sometimes something I put on myself? Maybe? But I do know it stems from real experiences.

The risk is real. I’ve lost opportunities I cared deeply about because I dared to speak up about things that were not right. I know what it feels like to love this industry and still wonder if being fully myself will cost me a seat at the table or opportunities in my career.

I’ve also learned that bringing my full self to leadership changes the conversation in powerful ways. When I share my story, I often hear from others that they’ve felt the same things. Sometimes it’s a direct message or a quick text. Other times, we get to have a full-on conversation.

Those moments remind me that being visible isn’t just about me. It’s also about empowering others to be themselves.

I’d be lying if I said I was always comfortable speaking up. It doesn’t always feel safe. I’ve had to unfriend and block several people I once considered friends.

When we lead with authenticity and bring our full selves to the table, we broaden what leadership in agriculture can look like and who it can include.

3. What allies and the broader community can do

Leadership and breaking the mold of who belongs here doesn’t just fall on the shoulders of those who identify as LGBTQ+ in agriculture and our rural communities. Allies have an important role to play, too. And often, allies speaking up are the people who can make the biggest impact.

Leadership as an ally can look like:

• Respecting pronouns and names without making it a big deal.
• Avoiding assumptions about the gender of someone’s spouse or partner.
• Creating space in conversations, workplaces, and organizations where people feel like they don’t have to hide part of who they are in order to belong.
• Speaking up when you hear language that excludes or belittles others.

JJ’s perspective reminded me of this, too: agriculture has made progress, and there are people and organizations actively working toward greater inclusion. That change happens faster when allies step in alongside us when the expectation of respect and inclusion comes from everyone in the room, not just the LGBTQ+ people asking for it.

Finding your own way

So, what does it mean to be a leader in agriculture when you don’t fit the mold? Leadership isn’t about being the loudest or most visible. It can be authenticity, even when it’s hard. It can be recognizing the influence of small, consistent actions. And making space for others, whether you’re part of the LGBTQ+ community or an ally standing beside us.

We still have a long way to go in agriculture, but people like JJ remind me that progress is happening. Leadership looks different for each of us, and that diversity strengthens our communities.

Thanks for reading. I’d love to know how you think about leadership in your own corner of the world. What small actions have made a difference for you?