Let the Chips Fall

Let the Chips Fall

By: Denton Dowell

 We have all been at shows where we don’t agree with the judge who sorts the livestock. Am I a guilty party of being mad and talking trash about the judge? Yes, I am guilty. Nobody can prove if a show is “rigged” or not.  With that said, I feel like this is something that everybody in the livestock showing industry needs to be told. So here are my suggestions on how to go to the show and feel good about what you are doing.

First thing to do is to buy the best animal you can afford. If you can afford a thirty-thousand-dollar steer and you think he is the best, then pull the trigger. If you can only afford a five-hundred-dollar sheep, go and find the best five-hundred-dollar sheep you can find. Within this part of the livestock season, we must also remember that the most expensive isn’t always the best one.

Second thing to do is to be sure to do your homework. You will never win a show by not working at the barn. In my opinion, the banner is not won at the stock show, but it is won at home. The person who is out there working hair, walking pigs, setting up show lambs before day light during the school year and on every Saturday night in the summer is the one who has the best chance to win. Also, you must feed to the best of your ability. I don’t care if you feed HighNoon, ShowTec, or Jimmy Joe’s finisher ration from the local feed mill. Here is the trick to feeding folks: Get on a program, stay on a program, understand your program. Just because the person who wins a major stock show is feeding a different brand of feed than you are don’t run out and buy that feed thinking you will win just by feeding it.

Third, at the stock show, don’t be afraid to ask for help. I know people see the show jocks as cocky and stuck up. But here is a little secret, they are they to help kids and win at the end of the day. If you go up and ask someone for help my bet is that almost all of them will do what they can do to help you. With that said, think about when to ask.  If you go over and ask someone for help and you see they have seven head of sheep in the next class don’t be surprised if they tell you no. However, the night before the show is a good time to say, “Hey I need some help showing, can you help me for just a minute?”  I bet you nine times out of ten, you’ll get a yes from anyone you ask in that barn.

Fourth, show the animal to show off the best qualities and hide the worst. If you know your steer isn’t quite fat enough turn his head to you a little to make it feel like he is. If your pig is super wide chested and wide going away, then be sure you take that truck and drive it right at the judge. These little tricks are not cheating; they are knowing what you have and knowing how to show off your animal that you have spent countless hours with.

Lastly, be realistic.  We all get barn blind. It just happens. We have to be smart enough to look out at the animals in the class and say, “Hey we just got beat.” And you know what?  There is nothing wrong with that. Every single person will get beat. Whether you are in the show ring or in life. It is part of it. This is one thing all our youth needs to learn and lean fast.

I really feel if you do these five things, you will be ok in the show ring. Don’t get caught up about what certain judges want. Just haul a good one to them and let the chips fall. If you win be happy. If you get beat, then learn from it. And at the end of the day remember this is one person’s opinion on one day.  This industry doesn’t need nasty articles printed in agriculture publications or nasty text sent to judges.

Should we be happy when we get beat? No! In the words of General George S. Patton “I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughs.” But, what we can do is learn from it figure out what we need to do differently.  And let's remember, we're here to raise good kids, that's what really matters.

Family Farm Friday #97: What FFA Gave Me

PETA is at it again. This time it's an article declaring FFA to be lame as {curse word I do not say}. And I wish it were true that no one listens to that organization and their lies, but it's not. And people do. So I felt compelled to respond.  I started out explaining how each of PETA's arguments were wrong.  But quickly I got angry and the blog was negative and although I'll publish it next week, I thought looking at the positives of the program first was pretty important.  So that's today.

FFA (and 4-H too just to be clear) has given me so much. Sure, everyone has been  sharing the usual since the article came out (which are all true and I have shared before here and here): Work ethic. Responsibility. How to manage finances. Animal care. Scholarships.

But there is so much more these programs have given me. So I made a little list of some of the things FFA gave me that might not be obvious.

A college diploma and a law degree.  I credit FFA with both my scholastic and monetary ability to get these degrees. I went to college with about $20,000 in the bank.  The vast majority of that was from raising animals and making the sales at stock shows. Sure, I worked all through college and most of law school and had scholarships as well, but that showing income allowed me two degrees and no student loan debt.  More than that, having participated in FFA contests like public speaking, FBM, and livestock judging prepared me for law school better than anything else I could have done.  I learned to analyze, see both sides, and think on my feet.  All of which came in very handy, particularly in law school come exam times.

My husband.  No, we did not meet in the programs. We met when I was 28 at an OSU football weekend.  But we were there because of a mutual friend. I knew said mutual friend through 4-H. My husband came along that weekend because the boys were looking at show calves on the way. Bam.  Thank you 4-H and FFA for the shiny diamond ring in this finger of mine.

My best friends. The easiest one here is BFF, who I met directly because of showing when I was 10 years old.  But through a long, windey explanation, I could connect my  meeting Blonde Oklahoma Girl, who was never in 4-H or FFA because of these programs.  Her friend dated my friend who I knew from judging and because of that I met Loud Oklahoma Girl and we bonded because of showing and through her I met Blond Oklahoma Girl. College Roomie and I got to know each other through 4-H.

State 4-H circa 2002.

My love of travel.  My family is not one of travelers.  Growing up, our vacations existed of trips to the NM mountains or to fairs.  But 4-H and FFA sent me off on adventures across the country.  From touring dairies in Wisconsin to chicken farms in Indiana to judging cattle in Kentucky and road tripping across the Mississippi River, I credit my love of travel, which has now taken me to 9 countries and over half the states, to 4-H and FFA trips.

My child's middle name.  BB is named after my ag teacher, who was much like a second father to me.  I have had some great teachers in my 20 years of schooling.  Never would it have crossed my mind to name my kid after any of them except for my ag teacher.  Those relationships between students and ag teachers are just special.

My wedding photographers.  All three of my wedding photographers are my friends because of FFA. Super Mom and I met because we competed against each other in FFA contests for years.  Homewtown Friend and I became friends from going on FFA trips together in high school.  Ag Teacher Friend and I showed against each other growing up.  These girls not only saved me a ton of money and took great photos, but they are some of my absolute favorite people.

A close family.  I'd like to think that no matter whether we had shown animals or not, my family would have been close.  But I think that the reality is, we would not have been as close as we are without that.  We spend hours every single night together at the barn working with animals.  We learned together, made mistakes together, fought with each other, celebrated wins together.  And honestly, today, not much has changed.  Just about every single day, I talk on the phone with my dad and brother about sheep.  The Boy from Texas has jumped in and he is studying up on rams and preparing to fly with my brother across the country to look at sheep.  My mom and I are frequently dealing with Facebook and marketing for our show lamb sales.  We've stayed all connected and in close contact because of the show program.

Family gathered up during the pig show.

A great network when I need help.  I'm here to tell you, I know someone everywhere.  I always know if I have car trouble, particularly in New Mexico, I'm covered.  Seriously, there is someone I can call in pretty much any county in the state.  When I needed rescued from a near plane crash, I called a showing friend.  When I needed a couch to crash on and a tour of the White  House in DC, it was an FFA friend who stepped in.  To this day when I have political questions, I talk to FFA friends who work for Congress. I'm here to tell you, once you're part of the FFA family, you're in for life.

White House tour with Super Mom 2006.

My job. Probably even more than most, my job is clearly from my experiences in 4-H and FFA. What I do now is basically public speaking contests, creed contests, and extemporaneous public speaking rolled into one and given a paycheck. For real, take away the national blue and corn gold jacket and the medals for winning, and my job is basically a big ol' public speaking contest. I have zero doubt without those experiences as a kid I would not have the career I do.

This list sure doesn't look lame to me.  Perhaps had the PETA folks been involved in these programs (or if the author was, as is claimed, had they actually understood the organization), or had talked to folks who had been involved, they might have been better informed. Those of us who do know better have to tell our stories.  Share the gifts FFA and 4-H gave you.  Because, sadly, most people in America don't know if we don't tell them.

Happy FFA Week!

Happy FFA Week!  All week on Facebook, I've really enjoyed seeing posts from other former FFA members talking about what the organization meant to them.  From old pictures with ag teachers to blog posts about how FFA helps prepare members for nursing careers, to collages of favorite memories....it's really been fun to see!

I was struck not only by the number of my friends who were involved in FFA (not surprising given where I went to school, my major in college, my current job), but the variety of things we are doing now.  Some are home on the farm raising food and fiber to feed and clothe America.  Some are in big cities,  one even has  her own law office on Wall Street.  Some are in small towns teaching elementary school, working in industry, protecting the community.  And some have chosen to carry on the FFA tradition by becoming ag teachers themselves.

These stories prove that FFA didn't just prepare us for our futures in agriculture, but for our futures, period.

To celebrate that, I wanted to share some of my favorite FFA moments.

Stock shows with the family.

County fairs with the family.

State Fair with friends.

This was us in college, but I met some of my best friends in FFA.

Winning State FFA Livestock Judging

FFA Camp

Winning State Star Farmer

Winning a class at Roswell with Walter.

Sorting ewes for breeding.

Winning Grand and Reserve at the County Fair

Winning High Individual in Reasons & Reserve National Champions at National FFA Dairy

National FFA Livestock, complete with food poisoning experience.

Calving season

Little Brother winning the pig show at the County Fair.

Reserve National Champions in Poultry

"Crunch time" at the barn.

Little Brother winning the sheep show.

Dad's lucky shirt.

State Fair sheep show day.

Winning County Fair 3rd time in a row

Roswell pig show with Mr. Franklin

Winning Champion Cross NMSF

Winning a class with a lamb we raised.

Feeding time at State Fair.

 And lastly, I will share what I previously shared on Facebook.  If The Baby from Texas turns out to be a boy, his middle name will honor my own FFA advisor, Mr. Franklin, who was so much more than a teacher to so many of us.

Happy FFA Week to all!

Throwback Thursday #65: The Meat Wagon and the Texas Tornadoes

I spent a lot of time in an old probably 1970's model Chevy suburban during my teen years.  Usually with a steno notebook in my hands and manure on my boots.  Our 4-H judging team rolled in style.

The suburban was lovingly referred to as the "meat wagon."  Legend has it that before it was used to haul kids around to judging contests, it was an ambulance.  Whatever the reason, the name stuck.  We traveled lots of miles.  Sometimes, she did good.  Sometimes, she died before we even made it out of Texas and we had to trade her in for a navy blue 18 passenger van that made us look like a swat team every time we stopped and got out (possibly because someone insisted on yelling "go, go, go each time the doors opened).

No matter the vehicle, the same cassette tape was always blaring over the speakers.  The Texas Tornadoes.  I'm willing to bet you to this day any of us could easily tell you every word to songs like "Hey baby, que paso" or "Who were you thinking of."  You know, the classics.

We traveled all over the country from Louisville, Kentucky to Kansas City, Missouri to Madison, Wisconsin.  We won several state championships.  We had a lot of fun together.  In some ways it seems like yesterday.  In others, like a lifetime ago.

I feel like we sort of came of age in that meat wagon singing those songs.  We learned about life and EPDs and love and travel and the difference between a Jersey and a Guernsey and what to do when someone has a mild panic attack while stuck in traffic on a bridge over the Mississippi River, that they don't have Dr. Pepper north of the Mason Dixon Line or green chile east of the Missisippi, how to read reigning patterns, and how to spot a Furr's Cafeteria from miles away.

And I've got to say, I'm not convinced there is a better way to grow up than that right there.  In a world today filled with iPhones and video games and people hardly talking to each other, I sure hope that somewhere, another suburban load of 4-H kids are learning about life one Texas Tornadoes song at a time.

Family Farm Friday #88: I'll Take The Stock Show

Last week I saw an interesting conversation on Facebook that had people pretty polarized.  It all started when a mom suggested that her kids should not show animals this summer so that the family could go on a vacation to Disneyworld.  Now, let's start with a reminder that I'm all for everyone having their own story and making their own decisions. And I'm not harping on someone about making decisions differently than I would make. 

But that said....I'll take the stock show.

Growing up, we did not go on family vacations.  We went to stock shows.  And while I've never been to Disneyland, I'm pretty sure that the roller coaster rides, churros, and fake mouse ears can't replace what the stock shows gave me.

 

At those stock shows (and the months leading up to them), I learned what it meant to work hard.  My brother and I got up early, went to bed late, busted our butts in between dealing with weights and drench guns and feed regiments and wash racks. I also learned that not everyone worked that way.  I remember countless times it would be 8:00 at night and I'd come into the dorms covered in feed and hay and manure and lord knows what else, while some of the other girls would be all dressed up, make up on, and hair fixed.  And while I can't say that it happened this way all the time, but I lot of the time it was those of us who spent the week covered in manure who ended up smiling come the end of show day.  Not a bad thing for a kid to learn.

 

 

 

 

At those stock shows, I was surrounded by adults who became like family to me.  There were women who would haul in enough food for an army and be sure that we didn't go hungry by dishing out posole and beans from a crock pot in the tack pen.  There were men who helped sheer my sheep and haul our show boxes in and out and had no problem telling me if I wasn't doing something right.  There was an ag teacher that became one of my very favorite people in the world with his glare for people who showed up late for feeding, and his Rainman-like remembering of the weights of seriously every lamb in the barn, and his uncanny ability to sniff out coffee somewhere in the barn before anyone else was even awake to make it.

At those stock shows, I made friends from across the state.  Friends who have known me since I was 10 years old and who are still in my life 20 years later.  Friends whose babies I have held and funerals I have attended and weddings I have stood up at.  Friends who I never would have met were it not for the yearly "family vacation" to a stock show.

 At those stock shows, we spent quality time with our family.  After one particularly long, and I mean LONG night at the barn, that I'm fairly sure involved my dad breaking his toes after kicking something, I remember him saying that we might look back at parts of this showing deal and remember the fights, but we'd also look back and always remember him being there.  And he was right.  I remember the fights for being funny now, but I remember all of the time and money and sacrifice that he and my mom made so that we could go to those stock shows.  And that was a gift that is priceless in my mind.

 

And there's certainly more that those shows taught me.  Competitiveness.  Being a humble winner and a gracious loser.  Lucky shirts and lucky halters and the smell of sawdust and Revive.  That post-Led Zeplin concerts are probably not a great place to be in the dark.  A lot about love was learned at those dances and the dorm steps and the dairy barn alley where certain curse words were hurled at BFF when he hurt a girl's feelings.  How to change a trailer tire that blew every year on the way to Albuquerque.  How to talk to the police when things got a little rowdy at a street dance (and a certain someone needed me to lead him back to the dorms by the arm!)  That life is not always fair.  That I was never going to be as high maintenance as some of the other girls who hauled in a crap ton of clothes and shoes and fancy belts.  And that the best place for a bed was in the back corner (and the best friends to have were those that always got there early to snag them!)  What it felt like to be handed that bright purple banner and shiny belt buckle.

 

 

So, all this to say....I'm sure Disney World is great.  But I'll take the stock show.  Every single time.

Happy National FFA Week

FFA was hands down the best part of my childhood and high school years.  It prepared me for life more so than you would probably ever imagine and gave me some amazing friendships along the way.

This week is National FFA Week, and I can't really sum it up any better than the quote below.

I could not be more thankful for this organization and the impact it has had on my life.