You Did Good

Two weeks ago a big part of our 

little town called it quits. 

(but this week his lesson plans live on!)

...Actually, can you consider it "quitting" after forty years of dedication? 

Didn't he  just complete the requirements for accreditation? 

Mr. Sturgeon, our beloved FFA advisor and "Old Owl", has retired after forty years in the classroom. 
The old, cinderblock, back-hall classroom.
That clammy room was a safe haven for hundreds of kids who excelled with technical work, rather than the philosophical studies of Aristotle. 
Thank you for establishing that place for "our kind".  We owe ya. 

Exactly a week ago, old and young alike came back to our Alma Mater and thanked Sturg for his years of service. 
And millions of miles of driving. 
And late nights. 
And beef sticks and Mt. Dew in the old fridge. 

And sense of humor. 
And tap dancing. 
And Bible on his desk. 

And lemonade shake-ups.
And hall passes. 
And compassion. 

My brother and I were asked to speak at Sturg's celebration last week. 
We don't know why. 
We spoke, anyway. 
The speech impediment only showed it's ugly face once. 

Let it be known:

Don Sturgeon taught us more about life 

than he did 

weed identification or embryology. 

We are so grateful for that.

________

It’s no doubt that after more than four years with the same teacher, a student is bound to learn something from that individual. 
At least – one would hope.

Much of it would probably be quite applicable through life, like public speaking, salesmanship, parliamentary procedure and animal evaluation. 

But then there is a bit of it you hope to never experience again, in your life, ever...
Like cleaning out the aquaculture tank.

In the 8 years combined that we spent with Mr. Sturgeon, we definitely picked up a few things that we’ve carried around in our back pockets, through Purdue, maintaining careers and going home to start the next generation at our home place. Whether he realizes it or not, a lot of things Mr. Sturgeon taught us in the small cinder block classroom at 701 Baker Rd. has remained with us through this thing called life. Speaking to us, and teaching us far beyond agriculture. Today, we want to share a few of those lessons with you:

1. Things of value have no fear of time.

I suppose that’s why we’re all here today: To recognize a man who has committed 40 years to this school system and community. 40 YEARS. 60% of  those folks reading this blog were not even born when this man began teaching. 
Sit back. 
Digest. 
Read on:
And it isn’t as though he improved our program for a couple years, and rolled through town. Mr. Sturgeon stuck it out. He promoted agriculture to students through the late eighties – when agriculture was not the place to be. Over a span of forty years, he’s built a valuable ag program that is recognizable and has been quite successful for decades. It didn't take two years to build this program. It took forty. 
He’s even taught generations; sons and daughters of the program.

And between you and me….In my opinion, Sturg probably would have spent all 40 years here at Hagerstown if Brad Culy weren’t in his inaugural class. But that is neither here nor there…

Our world needs more of Sturg's commitment. 

2. People want to be needed.

Not everyone who walked to the back hall to sit through Mr. Sturgeon’s class was the next Norman Borlaug, but Sturg found value in them. Not every student had a burning interest in horticulture or Bovine Reproductive Physiology. In fact, I’d be willing to bet there were more than  a few students that took his class who believed that their cotton t-shirt came from a sheep.

But Sturg gave them purpose, anyway. Sorting fruit, sending letters to the community, setting up for an event, cleaning the greenhouse …or the fish tank…..every student was put to work in the back hall: No matter who you were or where you called home, Mr. Sturgeon made every student feel needed. There were kids who went home every night and never felt like they had purpose at all. I say with confidence, Sturg never let students feel that way. No matter their talents or faults, they were viable. 

Our world needs more of Sturg's ability to make everyone feel valued. 

3. Small words of encouragement go a long way.  

People – in general - need to know they’ve done well, and Mr. Sturgeon taught us that. He never went without sharing a few praises with students, no matter the situation. Small accomplishments - like weighing peanuts accurately, didn't even go unnoticed. 
Words of encouragement or praise are so scarce in this world we live in. It seems we'd rather blame or condemn. 
Whether students placed above their personal expectation in a soils judging contest or a former FFA student married out of their league, Mr. Sturgeon would always say these resounding words to anyone: 

You did good, my child. You did good.

Such a simple, but powerful praise for young adults  even if it came years after they left his classroom.

Our world needs more of Sturg's vocalized praise.

Thank you, Mr. Sturgeon, for playing an incredibly important role in hundreds of young peoples’ lives over the last 40 years. 

No matter how much research and fact-finding we tried to do in preparation for tonight, your timeless reach cannot be quantified and your positive influence cannot be calculated. 

Thank you.

You did good, our dear Old Owl, 

You did good.

Girls Need Girlfriends

I haven't always believed this, but I do so now - more than ever. 

Girls need girlfriends. 

When I was in high school I had two great friends.
One, an incredible gymnast. 
One, an awesome basketball player. 
Neither of which fully understood why I loved shop class and absolutely despised cheerleading practice. 
Guess I always figured I had better things to do, like break calves. 
Then I went to Purdue and decided to rush a sorority. 

No, that's actually not how that story goes. 

I decided to not rush a sorority and my older brother, Luke, called my dorm phone and told me that if I didn't rush, I would be missing the opportunity of a lifetime to interact with women such as Stacie Warner. 
Fact. 
He may have been right.
I cried....He hung up on me....I rushed. 
And joined Alpha Chi Omega. 
And found my greatest friends. 
And two of my four bridesmaids. 
And a sister-in-law who ending up taking Luke off of my hands. (Thanks, Betsy!)

And...my lifelong travel pal, Katie. 

For five years Katie and I have packed a bag (usually 5 bags between the two of us) and traveled around the country. 
We drove rental cars that seemed to operate off of go-cart engines. 

We hid in Wyoming country club bathrooms because we feared someone following us. 

We've traveled more than 4 hours at a time without a map or cell phone service. But we always had food in a cooler in the back. Wouldn't want to go hungry. 

For two Indiana gals: We've lived. 

And it seems we both knew that we'd learn much by traveling together, simply by the first stroke of a pen in our travel journal. 
I spoke these words, while Katie wrote:

And I've learned. 

I've learned the value in having a friend that encourages your strengths, compliments your weaknesses, can slap you across the face with honesty and also get you out of a bind in a hurry. 
In fact, I haven't always been so supportive of the role of girlfriends play in a gal's life - which is disappointing. 
But at twenty-nine, I sure do. 

This is why I understand that:

Great friends encourage your strengths. 

No matter where we go and who we meet in our travels, we instantly know to delegate the conversation based on what we know:

Lindsay: Livestock, writing, humor, American beer and wine....and anything pertaining to. 
Katie: Politics, antiquing, fashion, beer and top shelf liquor....and anything pertaining to. 

We use eye signals to field questions from strangers. We synchronize bathroom breaks so that someone can quote folks we meet in the travel journal while the other is away. 

Great friends compliment your weaknesses.

Katie is brilliant in terms of politics. She knows the who-what-where-when of anything regarding legislation, global influence and candidates. She reads several newspapers daily. 

I stopped this man at a Pacer's game recently and thanked him for his service to our state:

 Scott Swan, Channel 13 anchor

I mistook him for Governor Pence:

Indiana Governor Mike Pence

The gray hair threw me off, I suppose. 

Katie is still my friend, regardless of how badly she wanted to crawl under a seat. 

Great friends slap you across the face with honesty.

At this age, they aren't trying to protect your feelings, your heart or your temper. Great friends - at this age - tell you what matters. 

I challenged Katie recently about why she was so hard on someone. Why did all of that petty stuff matter enough for her to act that way, I asked her?

Last weekend Katie drove us all the way home from West Virginia because I felt a bit invincible the night before. She didn't say much, but she yawned behind the steering wheel often during the west-bound hours leading us back to Indiana. That was enough for me to question why I enjoyed the bluegrass so fiercely the previous night. Humiliation works wonders. 

Great friends understand that no matter what, some things are better stuffed in the trunk. 

Last weekend's trip was the first we had taken since we met our husbands.
....In September of 2011 we ventured to Wyoming. 
In December 2011 Katie met Brett in Indianapolis. 
In January 2012 we met Cody in Denver together. 
In November 2012 Cody and I were engaged. 
In December 2012 Brett and Katie were engaged. 
In July 2013 she became a Glick. 
In August 2013 I became a Sankey. 
In May of 2014 Katie and I relaxed in West Virginia and celebrated married life - while our husbands built fence and planted crops back home, alone. 
We dialed home each day, revealing that we hadn't found much that suited us...
Except for every heirloom known to mankind since 1897. 
Last Sunday Katie dropped me off at home and helped me transport my purchases from 16 bags into four large ones, to mitigate the risk, of course.

That is just what great friends do. 

The media tells women what they should believe.
Facebook tells women what they should portray.
Twitter tells women what matters in 140 characters.
Pinterest sets the bar incredibly high regarding what women should be (in all of their spare time). 

Great friends remind us that we have earthly mothers, 
simple grandmothers, busy friends and bosses with expectations. 

Wouldn't you rather have four quarters instead than 100 pennies, in term of friends?

Thanks, Katie Mae.

 You're the best girlfriend the 17-year-old-me never imagined she'd need. 

See more of our travels here. 

And here. 

More here. 

True to Their Roots

This entire week I've spent time reflecting on my FFA experience. In doing so, I've realized there has been one resounding person that comes to mind as I remember how grateful I am to have been part of a program much bigger than myself. Being just a year older than I, she was an incredible role model of mine as I navigated through high school. And even today she is a true mentor and friend. And, as life turns out, a neighbor.

That being said, when the idea of this entry came to me, one that could potentially till up emotion, I knew we had a good enough relationship that I could ask to come spend an evening with the family. 


Actually, I just Facebook messaged her Mom.

My mentor's name is Kristen, and Kristen's FFA story is a unique one, with a rich history and deep roots. 

It would be fair to say Kristen's passion for agriculture was instilled in her from both parents and both sides of the family. But one parent was able to see her receive her American Degree, and one wasn't. 

Kristen was eleven, and her sister Kaitlyn was five, when their father, Barry, was killed in a farming accident. Though he was never able to assist his two daughters with their SAE projects, Barry still had a fundamental role in the foundation of their agricultural interests and pursuits. 

"The girls were so young when we lost Barry, it is almost ironic how they've grown up to have the very same passions that he had. They didn't have a lifetime to learn from him, to do the things that he loved to do. Still, they're doing it themselves, every single day," says LuAnn, while sitting at the dinning room table with her two daughters, who are both very involved in the agriculture industry. 

Kristen & Kaitlyn

Kaitlyn, a senior at Purdue majoring in agriculture education, is ready to give back to an organization that gave so much to her. In fact, our discussion in their old farm house was delayed a bit because Kaitlyn was wrapping up FFA Week activities with the kids she is currently student teaching. 

"I know I got my passion for cows from Dad, and I relive the things he enjoyed through my own experiences today. But each of us," Kaitlyn said while looking up at her mom and sister, "are in production agriculture today and I know it's because of his memory."


Kristen values her FFA experience because of the real-life applications it provided her.

Today she works in the agribusiness field and also has a cattle operation with her husband Jason. "Whether I knew it then or not, the things I learned in FFA are applicable for the rest of my life," says Kristen. 

But Barry wasn't the only one in their rural Indiana family that was, or is, passionately involved in FFA and agriculture. 

Their grandpa Marvin was State Reporter in 1955-1956. 
Barry served as District Reporter in 1976-1977.

Kristen served as District Vice President in 2001-2002. 

And Kaitlyn brought the three generations together by serving as District Treasurer in 2007-2008.

And the best part, all four also held offices in the Hagerstown FFA Chapter. 

A collection of jackets, and stories 

Many who read this blog know Kristen and Kaitlyn, though some haven't had the pleasure. I  say with confidence that I don't know two ladies who are so well-adjusted and driven, as these two are. The influence they've had on others' lives is incredible , whether they realize that or not.  Our small east central Indiana community has watched these two grow up. 


Though the sisters claim to be very different, I couldn't help but notice how they finished each others sentences during one part of our discussion: talking about the fight we're fighting to be AGvocates in our industry. Both shifted in their seats as they described the unfortunate stereotype that agriculture still faces today and painful misconceptions about where our food comes from. Lucky for these two, the farm legacy runs deep in their blood. 


"Everyone talks today about family farms and staying true to your roots. Well, we've done that. Even with Dad not around we've pulled together, gotten stuff done and stayed engaged in the industry. We address things in world wide agriculture, but we're still a family-based operation," Kristen says as she looks to Kaitlyn, who gently nods in agreement. 

"It is humbling to see how much of Barry is in each of them," LuAnn continues. "His legacy of compassion for other other people is visible in both of them. These girls, they'd both give five minutes to anyone who needed it...well, except for each other!"


All four of us laugh, but none of us believed that. 


She continued, "I look at my girls and all that they're doing. They may not realize it, but that all comes from him. Both are exactly where Barry would have wanted them to be."

After our conversation around the dining room table, I drove to Kristen's house to pick up her beloved jackets. On the drive over I couldn't help but smile, feeling quite thankful for knowing the crew I just spent an evening with; what classic ladies, who understand the importance of hard work and persistence, even in the darkest of hours. 


I reached Kristen's house. She blew the dust off of her jackets and handed them to me as I stepped out under the porch light, into the cold February air.

She stopped me. 


"Listen, I know we said "legacy" a lot tonight, but I don't know if that is the right word to use when you write this. We're down to earth people. I like to think of my Dad as my guardian angel, in everything I do."

I looked at her and smiled. 

A word wasn't needed;

After the conversation the four of us just had, I strangely understood exactly what she meant. 

Please Excuse The Dust II

Two weeks ago I began the "Please Excuse the Dust" series, simply capturing ordinary things in life and putting a black frame around them. This week I wanted to showcase I cinder block room that holds endless memories for folks who grew up in the Nettle Creek school district: our agricultural education room.   

Past the cafeteria, through the gym and tucked back behind the shop, this room has seen countless students, peanut shells, debates, grapefruits, flashcards, muddy boots and one very Wise Old Owl.

And remember, please excuse the dust...

  

Glory Days. 

"Get your beef sticks, get your Mountain Dew - 

Come One Come All! Step Right UP!!"

The Wise Old Owl has used this more than once...

This leads to the further reflection, that no other human occupation opens so wide a field for the profitable and agreeable combination of labor with cultivated thought, as agriculture. I know of nothing so pleasant to the mind, as the discovery of anything which is at once new and valuable -- nothing which so lightens and sweetens toil, as the hopeful pursuit of such discovery. And how vast, and how varied a field is agriculture, for such discovery. The mind, already trained to thought, in the country school, or higher school, cannot fail to find there an exhaustless source of profitable enjoyment. 

- Abraham Lincoln, 1859

A long standing, successful history. 

The shop classroom.

Aren't we all a work in progress?

Stairway to Heaven? Nope just where I spent 

many hours weighing peanuts and sorting citrus.

 Cheers to new beginnings. 

One of my favorite classes in highschool: small engines. Not only did I learn much about piston rings and torque wrenches, I also learned more than I ever needed to know about high school boys....

Back home at BSG, somewhere between the sequins of the prom dresses and the polyester of the cheerleading warm-up suit, rests my dear old FFA jacket. I remember how bad I wanted that old thing - and how stiff it was the first time I put it on. I remember learning how to speak publicly in it, and also walking across the stage to receive my

American Degree. 

Stay tuned for more this week as I tell stories from the "back hall" 

and reminisce fondly on a family that shaped my agriculture experience.