Quietly Caring -- November 2016

I often see farmers, mainly dairy farmers, portrayed as an uncaring profit driven bunch with little interest in what’s happening outside their farm boundary. You only need to watch the news to see an animal rights group accusing us all of being complicit in animal cruelty, read The Herald to find an angry columnist insisting we’re single handedly  destroying New Zealand’s waterways, or open my inbox to discover that I personally am responsible for global warming.

 The truth is we do care but we’re not inclined to talk about it very much, even amongst ourselves. Tonight I’m taking the farm staff out to a dinner, partly as a thank you for the hard work they’ve done to date, but mainly because the farm I manage donates calves every year to the local rugby union and this evening is a celebration of that fact. A total of 70 calves have been donated this year to ensure Mid Canterbury rugby has the funds to keep junior rugby solvent and able to encourage youngsters into the sport. Farmers donate the calves, local businesses donate prizes for the most weight gain, the local vet and silage contractor donate their time and equipment for weighing, the transport company trucks the calves for free and the stock agent waives his commission.

All of this is done by volunteers and with little to no publicity, because we care about our community.
I’ve been dairying for 21 years now, and every single farm I have been involved with donates at least one calf annually to IHC. I have never seen a farmer hesitate when the IHC volunteer comes calling, except maybe to apologise that times are tight and it might only be one animal this year instead of two or three. Again the calves are transported at no charge, and again the auctioneers waive their commission.

We don’t talk about it, it’s not publicised, and we do it because we care about our community.
I was in the Manawatu during the floods of 2004 when thousands of cows were suddenly on the road escaping the rising water. Those of us that were out of danger willingly opened our gates to let the stock have a feed and a breather overnight before continuing on their way. We took what stock we could to keep them milking and gave what we could spare to those that had lost everything. The same thing happens in times of drought and will happen again with the recent devastating earthquake. We care what happens to our neighbours and fellow farmers.

For every negative article I see reported, I think of the good the farming community quietly do for those around them. Despite the glee with which the demise of the dairy industry was predicted, farmers just got on with it and checked if their neighbours needed a hand. These people are the silent majority and they care deeply about what goes on both inside and beyond the farm, I just wish they’d stop being so damned quiet about it.