By Staff
It was at a very tender age – around five or six – that I first set my little impressionable foot down on the vibrant streets of Manhattan. And it was love at first step. Every inch of me is a city girl. Seriously. Being even a little too far from a Starbucks makes me nervous – and I am not ashamed to admit it. Gotham's incomparable pace does not intimidate me. Temperamental cabbies, Rolex panderers and germ infested subway lines do not intimidate me.
Sheep intimidate me.
I have actually been to the Berrien County Youth Fair before – but was too young to remember. I have vague memories of feeling sick on a tilt-a-whirl and being asked if the ride needed to be stopped. Other than that, I'm at a loss. So it's needless to say that as I've been covering the Berrien County Youth Fair this week – I've been quite the stranger in a strange land. And quite frankly, three days in – I'm far from being a fair pro.
Day one – I pull into a parking space just before 9 a.m. Monday morning and as I step out of the car there is the distinct stench of manure – which I was in no way prepared for. I make my way over to the fair office to ask a few questions and quickly head back towards the equine complex for opening ceremonies. I had no idea that there were so many animals at this fair … and that they are just kind of out there … being led around by their owners. Relieving themselves along the way.
As I stand outside one of the rings, people leading horses too and from their pens surround me. In the city, one must be aware of one's surroundings. I can spot a sketchy character rounding a corner and heading in my direction from several blocks away. On the fairgrounds, my inner anxious city self mentally reviewed an emergency plan of action in the case of a stampede. Horses stampede … don't they? And the rabbits? They might look cute and cuddly but I'm betting if they got together they could easily take me down.
I wander the grounds before heading over to the grandstand. Only a few food vendors are open, many are just setting up and the rides are still being assembled. It's actually quite peaceful on this side of the grounds. I get inside the grandstand for the tractor pull that's taking place. I have no earthly idea what a tractor pull is. I snap pictures of two men on big machinery racing back and forth. Ah, it must be a race. After a few minutes I realized they were just prepping the grounds for the next contest.
Day two – the fair is a sea of parents and children wearing wristbands with ice cream stained faces. There are massive lines at every ride. There is no rhyme or reason to this side of the grounds today. It's survival of the fittest as I watch mothers sweat under an ever present sun, trying to keep their children in their sights as they run from one ride to another.
I get back over to the animal side of the fair and wander through a few more barns. As I near the end of the dairy barn, I turn to my left and find myself face to face with the backside of a cow doing something that – thankfully – we humans only do in private. I rethink my career choice and quickly move on. When I get home, I'm tired, hot and I can smell manure everywhere.
Day three – I almost have a panic attack walking through the poultry pen. Seriously. But the conversations that I've had with the kids who have been showing their animals in this fair – are starting to sink in. Walking through each barn I see them all there. They are with their animals 90 percent of the time. As I talk to their parents, I realize that while other kids can rarely see past their Nintendo Wiis, these kids balance raising and training these animals with school, work, friends and chores. These kids do chores!
More so, however, I'm intrigued by the fact that they grasp the agricultural process. That they are fully aware that the animals they've grown to love will be auctioned off with a "Charlotte's Web" style future, as one of my friends put it. And that's what gets me. From the age of five up to 20 – the youth that make up the Berrien County Youth Fair – are some pretty tough kids.
It's hard to sum up a way of life in a single column. But for a moment – I wanted to experience this one. The view of a sprawling piece of land, the early morning hours running chores before school – before breakfast. The discipline in developing more than just a responsive animal – but a bond with that animal. A relative friendship.
I'm so inspired I even dare to eat a corn dog. Which wasn't bad.
But the moment is over when I get home, to my espresso machine and my 'New York' magazine. I sit back and enjoy the quiet and the sweet smell of vanilla coming from my air freshener. And I take comfort in the fact that we all have a part to play. Those kids – are what the 'heart' in 'heartland' is all about. And I can only hope that they represent the face of the future of our agricultural world. Because they'd make a much better representative than this city girl could ever even think to be.