Recently, I was visiting with an older gentleman friend about what I should write about next. From across the table, a woman offered, “Farming.” When I looked back, my friend looked me square in the eye and said, “Yep.” He knows I don’t come from a farming background, but we’ve had long conversations about his work, so he knows I respect the folks who do.

One summer in high school, I decided to detassel corn. About half of my classmates did it, and they always made good money. So I found a crew, hopped on a big old bus, and plopped myself in the middle of a field.

I lasted two days.

It was wet, so I lost one (or both) of my shoes. It was hot, so I sweat through my clothes. I wore gloves, but still cut my arms and hands up. And even though I was only out there two days, for a full week, every time I closed my eyes, I saw rows and rows of corn. It was hard, hard work.

I knew then that I wasn’t cut out for farm life. I did, however, gain a new respect for farmers. Because, as you all know, it’s never only detasseling corn. It’s a whole business. It’s predicting the unpredictable and making the best of what Mother Nature gives you. Farming takes grit, patience, and a whole heck of a lot of hope – and it teaches resilience, diligence, and humility. At 15 years old, I had grit, hope, and resilience, but acquiring patience, diligence, and humility would come later.

Perhaps I should have gone back that third day.

But even if you’ve never stepped onto a farm like many of my big city friends, we all feel the influence in the food we eat, the fuel we use, and the bounty in our kitchens. Farming is the heartbeat of not just Webster County, but of our nation. Steady, strong.

As a county supervisor, even though my district is within the city limits, I hear from farmers often. We talk about eminent domain, property rights, and the shrinking number of family farms. These conversations matter because the land is more than an economic resource. It is a legacy. Every decision we make affects the people who keep that legacy alive.

So to the folks in agriculture who shape our county’s values of hard work, perseverance, and earned pride, thank you. You are the heartbeat that guides us forward. And to my friend who helped me decide on this topic, we’ll get to that prairie soon. Thank you for your encouragement and good-natured ribbing that keeps me focused on what really matters.

Niki Conrad is the chairwoman of the Webster County Board of Supervisors.