It’s all farm raised, whether it comes from your neighbor or a grocery store!
Winnemucca, Nev.—I’ve been very fortunate. I’ve never gone hungry, where my next meal is coming from never crosses my mind, and I’ve never even considered if that meal is safe to eat or not. That is one of the great things about living in the USA, our food supply is safe and secure. I can walk into any grocery store at any given time, and there will be food I can purchase, and I know that there will be beef at the meat counter. Fortunately, I rarely have to pay grocery store beef prices.
From as far back as I can remember, I have known exactly where my beef is coming from. Growing up we raised our own. It was usually an open heifer that we grain finished, then cut and wrapped ourselves. All through college, and when I first started teaching, my parents always sent me back to school with some beef to keep me fed. Now, I help hand select the beef we butcher on the ranch. One of the perks of working for the ranch we work for, every year as part of the Cow Boss’s wages, we get the option to receive either a whole or a half a beef. I’m very grateful that we receive beef as part of our wages, because like a lot of moms who are just trying to feed their families, I’m not sure I would be able to afford to purchase a whole or half beef, especially in today’s economy.
I think that is why it bothers me so much when I see the beef industry being attacked with misinformation and outright lies being propagated by members of our very own industry. Common themes seem to be, conventional cattle being pumped full of antibiotics and hormones; while at the same time being packed like sardines into crowded feedlots and fed grains covered in toxic pesticides. All of which (according to said promotional materials), is saturating the beef being sold on grocery store shelves. Not to mention, claims of fresh grocery store hamburger being intentionally filled with water and other “additives.” List goes on and on and are all false. These fear mongering tactics can discourage a good mom who just wants to feed her family a safe and wholesome food from purchasing beef at the grocery store. Doesn’t that defeat our purpose? Isn’t our goal to get beef into people’s kitchen’s and onto people’s plates?
“All of us, as an industry, have worked hard to gain and maintain consumer confidence and demand in beef. Protocols and procedures exist across all sectors of beef production, to ensure not only the health and wellbeing of cattle, but the safety and quality of the end product.” Explains Cara Small, co-owner of Sandhill Feeders in Winnemucca, Nevada.
American beef is the safest and healthiest in the world thanks to people like my family. From my dad and brother who spend hours poring over EPD’s, selecting genetics to improve their beef herd to better convert sun
and grass into muscle. People like my husband, sons, work family and myself who spend spring, summer, and fall keeping yearlings healthy and gaining weight on pasture and winters feeding cows and calving them out. Thanks to people like my sister and her family who feed our cattle in their feedlot. Ensuring they have access to quality feed and clean water while they put the finishing touches on those tasty ribeye’s we all enjoy. We need to do better to stop the spread of misinformation within our industry.
I fully support all sectors of animal agriculture. I applaud those entrepreneurs working hard to find a niche and create a product to which they can proudly sign their name. We should all be proud of the job we are doing and the product we are producing. Casting doubt on the integrity, health and safety of our beef industry is irresponsible and cowardly, especially at the expense of those we should consider our teammates.
“We ALL belong to this industry. None of us can exist without our partners along the chain of production. If we lose consumer confidence in our product, we all lose. Not everyone can afford to purchase (or store) a whole or half beef from a Farm to Table Producer,” Says Small. “We shouldn’t be undermining the safety and nutritional value of beef, to those consumers doing their best to provide wholesome and affordable meals for their families.”
The US is the largest beef producing country in the world, yielding roughly 21% of the world’s beef supply in 2022. Ninety six percent of all US farms are family owned. “We, as families, are all working hard and successfully producing a safe, healthy and affordable product consumers can feel good feeding to their own families; whether that be an organic, grass-fed steak bought directly from your local producer, or a conventionally raised, grain finished roast from your local supermarket.” Explains Small.
I think in a world of uncertainty, one thing we can do as producers, no matter who our market is, is reassure moms who are just trying to feed their families that beef is safe and encourage people to eat beef. We need to normalize eating beef on a Thursday night, and if the best a person can do is buy a ground beef at a grocery store, lets celebrate that and rejoice they aren’t buying chicken!
During my freshman year in high school, my language art’s teacher always had us do free writing on Fridays. I loved free writing Fridays. It meant I didn’t have to worry about her reading it. It meant I could let my squirrel brain go wherever it pleased. It also meant I could dream and write and take up numerous pages without being graded. I looked forward to it every week. I’d almost knock people over to get to my seat. It was and still is an absolute joy for me to write with no purpose in mind. Mrs. Harte was her name and she was strict. She would walk around the class with a ruler in her hand, while we wrote each week. She was a stickler for posture, not only when we wrote but while we took instruction. She would walk up and down each isle and would run that ruler down our backs. We were never allowed to let them touch the back of our seats. She would say, “don’t slouch”, always. She wanted us to be successful and attributed our posture to success.
I guarantee there is not a student of hers, years and even decades later who doesn’t continue to abide by her posture guidelines. I am sitting this way now, thirty years later, as I type.
Mrs. Harte, who is still living, is a small framed woman, probably short of five foot and feisty as all get out. Her husband was an attorney in our small town. She had two children. A boy and a girl. She was a teacher. She was not our friend, although we always knew she loved us and would fight to the death for us. She gave only well deserved compliments after much hard work. It was worth it. We worked to get one. She was never mean as to cut someone down. But she did require work.
An A was well deserved and she was fair with her grades. I loved her. I still do. Although we have lost touch through the years. I heard that even when she lost her husband, she didn’t give up but got up, got dressed and continued to live as she always has. “A preposition does not belong at the end of the sentences, Miss Jones”. “If the cat does it in or on the box, it stays there. Please do not use it at the end of your sentence again.” I admit, I make this mistake on occasion and continue to struggle. I hear her say this to me everytime.
There were things about Mrs. Harte that always remained the same. Her strong faith, her hair pulled up into a tight bun, and her love for her students. These were non negotiable. She sang in her church choir every Sunday, never missing except if she was sick or had to be out of town, which wasn’t often. She believed in being present in her commitment. She told the choir director she would be there so she would. She would also sing with all her might…which she loved. She was also the high school choir director, so she understood commitment not only meant showing up but being present when you show up. Being present, to her, is a full commitment. She does so with her whole heart. Doing so for the Lord. Her first love. She would not be distracted or half hearted in her practice.
Second, her appearance was always the same. She cared about how she presented herself. Her clothes were always pressed, shoes polished, hair in a tight bun, nails cleaned, and makeup. I always think of her lipstick as well. Mainly it was as bright and cheerful as she. I never even saw her in casual clothing. Slacks mainly or a dress for church or as she directed the high school choir in concert. Her vehicle reflected the same care, although I
believe it was her husband that kept it spiffy for her. The thought of her cleaning her own vehicle doesn’t even cross my mind, nor should it. I imagine it was a Saturday chore for her husband. Her dress, the tight bun, the clothing were all so neat and put together but her speech, also, a well dressed attribute. I always desired to be as witty and elegant as she. I remember it was years after high school that I discovered her first name is Gaye. I never knew that, nor would I have ever inquired it of her. Students never asked about a teachers personal life and knowing her first name was thought as such. I can just hear her now. “Miss Jones, it is not for you to know my first name. You will address me as Mrs. Harte”.
Her love for her students was evident in the way she presented herself, taught, and looked after our work. She was never lazy to let a student slide through her class. If one were to fail her class, they would have to retake the class the following semester. She was careful to help but not to the point of disabling. Even while we changed classroom, Mrs. Harte would often step out into the hall, always addressing students by Mr. and Miss. If she saw or heard misbehavior she would call that person out. “Mr. Webb, I will not allow such behavior in these halls. Or such words, will not cheaply be spoken from your mouth.”
I will see you in detention this afternoon. Her stearness got the attention of us all. Nobody giggled under their breathe or dare roll their eyes, Mrs. Harte saw it all and it would not go unpunished. Our discipline was not because she didn’t love us but because she did. She was requiring us to discipline ourselves to becoming upstanding citizens, responsible adults, and productive students. She raised the
bar to which we all wanted to clear. Yes, she was harder on some but not a single one went unchanged after a semester with her.
There are times in my life where I feel unmotivated, or unproductive. There are times where I even feel stuck. Am I all she imagined me to be? I’m not sure. But thinking about her standard for living always motivates me to go back to that chair on freewriting Friday and live there for a few moments. Would I dare to take such discipline, she so carefully instructed and waste it? I dare not do so.
Instead, I can straighten up my posture and go back to writing, dreaming on the pages of freewriting Friday, taking myself to places only that little spiral held. I can also follow her example. To love the Lord faithfully and follow through with my commitments, being present whole heartedly. I can straighten up my posture and present myself ready and equipped to do the work ahead as I lead by example for others. And finally, I can love others by looking out for their good. Caring for others is a responsibility that we often take for granted. We are responsible for the next generations. Loving well requires discipline. Make sure your compliments are truthful. We live in an age of everyone is okay…when clearly many are heading down a destructful road. They don’t need to hear, “Do your own thing”, they need to hear, “you’re going the wrong way.” Raise the bar, help without disabling. Others can tell whether you genuinely love them and are doing something for their good verses to be “liked”.
Often, the best start to a New Year is to remember those who lived their best sacrificing for your best in the future. Now, it’s your turn.
