What does it mean to speak up and to be visible in a world that sometimes whispers (well, maybe some people shout), “Maybe you should keep that to yourself.”?
I didn’t start publicly sharing my authentic story (about being a gay man) until 2019. For years, I heard the way people talked about others who were different. It didn’t matter if it was the color of their skin, how they spoke, or who they loved. While there are so many wonderful experiences in agriculture and rural life, there can also be cruelty and discrimination for anyone different from the status quo. And for a long time, I was afraid those same words would one day be directed at me.
When I finally opened up, I realized how heavy that fear had been. I’ve shared my experiences, including the pain of leaving a job I loved because of blatant discrimination by leadership. Unfortunately, discrimination is still present in agriculture and rural communities. It’s not always intentional, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.
Discrimination doesn’t have to look like loud, dramatic actions. Sometimes it’s the small things: how we phrase something, the jokes that are told, the assumptions people make without thinking. Those unconscious biases can cut just as deep. And far too often, I hear people dismiss the idea that diversity is even an issue worth addressing. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Here’s one way I think about it: diversity is counting every person in the room; inclusion is making every person in the room count.
That’s one piece of what Pride In Agriculture is about for me. It isn’t just waving a rainbow flag, though if that’s how you want to show your pride, you should feel safe doing so. What I want is to help us all learn and grow in these conversations, to make inclusion more than words on paper, and to celebrate the contributions of every member of our communities.
We still have a long way to go. Agriculture and rural life don’t always feel like the easiest places to live authentically. But sharing our stories, holding one another accountable, and expecting better from our communities and that’s how we move forward.
That’s why I keep writing. This Substack is a way for me to share little pieces of that journey, and I hope it creates space for you to reflect on your own story too.
If any of this resonates with you, I’d love to hear back, whether in the comments or a direct message. These conversations are better when they’re shared.
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