By Lucy Ziesemer

It’s the key to a good business model- know what you’re offering to within an inch of its life and to the point where you have psychic abilities over what comes next. It’s part of what I love about breeding beef cattle. The attention we pay to what’s going on in our paddocks has crucial repercussions for our success as cattlemen and women. I may not be the best at remembering people’s names and certainly not at remembering birthdays, but I can recall facts and histories about cattle in our herd as easily as my own name. I can tell you which cows are leaders in the mob and which are followers. I can tell you which cows calved early, which cows did it tough through the winter, which cows are helicopter mums and which are grateful when weaning comes around. 
 
In our business, we have our female herd at a point where we can predict, quite accurately, what traits progeny will display when certain bulls are introduced. I’m fortunate enough to be able to pregnancy scan our females using internal ultrasound  technology. Some of the ladies have been kind enough to show me their unborn babies as a real, living fetus of the four legged variety. It’s pretty cool, I must say. Nerve wracking also when some of the favourites come in for their diagnosis, as we’re very strict on fertility. However I’d be lying if I said we’d never been lenient with our big bovine pets before. 
 
Aussie farmers know their product like the proverbial back of their hand. One, because it pays to, and two, because they love to. It’s a real passion of mine to keep track of our cattle like I would my own family, because to be frank they feel like family too. I’m not sure how they couldn’t when so much time and commitment in all forms has gone into their well-being. Farming is a profession and a lifestyle in the one package. You can’t embrace one without the other, which is why there are so many old farming families on the land. It’s a deeply ingrained trait passed on from mothers and fathers to sons and daughters and it’s what keeps those same families going when the chips are down. 
 
So just like I know the cow pictured was six months in calf I know my future family will inherit that same passion for the land and primary production, because even if we’re not directly involved in agriculture we’re all its beneficiaries.. and what’s not to love about that?

By Lucy Ziesemer

When you’re born into something, do you remember ever undertaking the process of learning the ropes? Or did you just grow legs, bounce up on the bike and take the lead? I have been handling cattle since I could hold a yard stick. I’m sure I bore the brunt of a few four-legged skeptical sideways glances at my very obvious insignificance as a five-year-old stock person. Granted, I was probably more effective then than I am now, with the childhood gift of fearless, guns blazing gusto. 
 
I’ve said it before, but as a small child I yearned for knowledge about the world I was nothing but a mere blip in. All children do. Show them a spaceship and they ask- how? Tell them rain makes corn and corn makes whiskey and they ask- why? Show them cattle grazing in a paddock or sheep in for shearing and I bet they’d ask who, what, when, where, why and how- all deeply important questions we agriculturalists love to dive into. 
 
My question is, why isn’t agriculture a compulsory subject in the Australian curriculum? Agriculture is a wholesome sensory experience- it is tactile, visual 👀 , auditory 👂🏼 , olfactory 👃 and gustatory 🍽. It involves mathematics and communication, and general common sense. The latter, I believe, could be a subject of its own! 
 
Agriculture is an untapped realm for higher learning with so many teachable moments waiting to be explored. Maybe its graduating students would not go on to pursue a career in ag, but maybe they would. At the very least, they would leave with a much more rounded, balanced understanding of the world beyond the school gates. Let’s not ponder why today’s youth are out of tune with primary production. Instead, give them opportunities to foster grass roots connections with the bush and watch as East meets West like never before.

By Lucy Ziesemer

By Grayson Webster

Coming into the New Year, resonating on the last, there has not been a person I have spoken to that did not struggle in 2020. All had encountered some sort of emotional or mental turbulence through a very unprecedented and traumatic year. Particularly dear friends and loved ones in the agricultural sector.  

It flagged with me the somewhat nonchalant approach we have within agriculture to managing our overall wellbeing and proactively taking steps to ensure we are personally operating optimally. There seems to be somewhat of an undercurrent to our culture of suppressing the impact events have on us and just “pushing through”.  

“Fill Your Own Cup First” is not a sentiment that ever overly resonated with me until recently. Anyone who has grown up on the land or is from a farming background knows there is too much to be accomplished in the day. Too many other living, breathing entities that rely on us for survival, to be worried about any other “cup filling” exercises unless it is of the caffeinated kind of a morning or a particular glass one of an evening… 

The agricultural industry places a heavy emphasis on technical and hard skills. One's ability to operate machinery, analyse data to increase efficiency, manage a budget, load a boat with thousands of heads of cattle, manage projects or succession that involve living, breathing animals is what often defines one’s ability to be successful.  

Modern society has created a giant apparatus for the cultivation of hard skills yet failed to encourage or cultivate cultures that develop the moral and emotional faculties down below.  As the next generation of leaders in our industry we are coached on how to jump through scholastic hoops and are constantly looking at how we can be better, do more and evolve our skills to effectively tackle the challenges that lay within agriculture and its development into the next century.  

Yet our soft skill set will be the fundamental matrix to leading a truly fulfilling and happy life. By far the most important decisions we will make in this life are about who we marry, who we befriend, what to love, what to despise, and how to control our impulses. On these matters of the mind and the heart, we are often almost entirely on our own. There is no KPI or industry regulation to follow to alleviate the pressure created within our own mind and bodies.  

As an industry, we are good at talking about material incentives, animal welfare and delivering outcomes but abysmal at talking about emotions, intuitions, and overall human wellbeing.  We are exceptional at teaching technical skills but when it comes to the most important things like growing one’s character, or managing mental health, we have almost nothing to say.  

Don’t get me wrong, hard skills are essential, but they are only one aspect.. Soft skills are what ultimately amplify one’s hard skill set and help us, and others grow as individuals. They are often innate, but in my experience, they need to be built and enhanced consistently through continual learning. Just like learning the intricate management of cattle onboard live export vessels or mechanically maintaining your prime equipment during harvest, these soft skills need to be understood, focused on and continually developed the same way we maintain hard skills. Managing our perspective and practicing patience, is as equally important as learning to pull a pressure pump apart or ploughing your best paddock for the ultimate crop to grow for example.  

If we do not start to implement and support cultures where vulnerability is championed, struggles are open and addressed as teams and knowing where to get support is as easy as logging onto Facebook - we will inevitably fail ourselves.
  
If we partnered the level of investment that we see in our stock handling training as that of our emotional intelligence and leadership development, we would be looking at an agricultural workforce that had more power than the NASA Building… 
We would also be looking at the highest risk age bracket of individuals with lower depression, lower anxiety, and the gaps of those that slip through the middle would slowly begin to sew itself shut.  

“The conversations around mental health aren’t nearly as dangerous as what we create through our silence” – Oli Le Lievre, Humans of Agriculture Founder 


*If you or someone you know needs help or advice on how best to deal with mental health then you can reach out to beyond blue, lifeline or call our friends at the TIACS hotline on 0488 846 988.

Caitlin McConnel was born into a sixth generation farming family that will be celebrating its 180th anniversary in 2021. Founded in 1841, Cressbrook Station in Toogoolawah is a remarkable property that has a deep connection to Australian history and was settled before Queensland was even registered as a State, by her great, great, great grandfather. Now, it is recognised as Queensland’s oldest residence and oldest identified family business, as well as one of the third oldest identified family businesses in Australia.
 
When you are born into an intergenerational farming family of this stature, you’re born into a high-pressure environment that naturally carries some difficult circumstances. In this episode, Caitlin unpacks the impact that the concessions of the business had on her parents as they navigated through issues like family succession planning, the deregulation of the dairy industry, the millennium Australian drought and ongoing challenge of carrying the weight of responsibility to uphold their family legacy. As a by-product from living and breathing through the stresses that her parents were experiencing, Caitlin had a jarring relationship with the farm from an early age. She had to steer through cloudy territory where she felt both an unrivalled connection and passion for the land, but also a distaste for farming life and the burdens it can bring.
 
After years of overcoming various adversities, getting life experience, working hard and seeking professional support, Caitlin found her feet again in the agriculture industry and returned to back to her roots on the family farm. Caitlin’s story is an inspiring piece that teaches us the important age-old lesson of listening to our inner voice and speaking up if we don’t feel right.
 
About Caitlin McConnel
Caitlin is a young woman that has a big smile and contagious warmth. However in her own life, she has faced three bouts of clinical depression and some incredibly low periods. Her mental health struggles occurred from as early as her high school days right up to more recently in her corporate career as a litigator at Australian law firm, Clayton Utz. Outside of her job, Caitlin is a high-achieving agriculturist who has a lot on her plate. She’s the Chair of the Royal National Agricultural and Industrial Association of Queensland (RNA) Future Directions Committee, a Director of the RNA Foundation and a Non-Executive Director of the Future Farmers Network. The combination of her busy life, unique childhood, family situation and pressure for success had an enormous impact on Caitlin’s emotional wellbeing and ultimately led to her mental health suffering.
 
Intergenerational Mental Health
Caitlin’s story is highly compelling because most would assume that being raised in a long-standing family business would provide a solid foundation for a carefree, happy upbringing. However beyond the rich history of the commemorated property were a family who were constantly running an uphill battle and working strenuously hard to manage their business that was regularly in a state of unpredictability. This experience had a deterrent effect on Caitlin’s feelings toward the farm which led her to take time away and explore new areas.
 
“When I was young I actually had no interest in going home because I could see the difficulties that Mum and Dad were having, the stresses on the relationship and conversely the effect it was having on me as a child and a teenager,” said Caitlin.
 
Times were undeniably tough for the McConnel family. Caitlin candidly opens up about some of her darkest moments, such as days where she truly believed that her presence was not good enough. Caitlin shared “because of the issues associated with our family’s succession planning over generations, there were actually times when I thought that Mum and Dad would be better off without me around.”
 
It’s hard to hear, but it just goes to show what level of impact people can experience from the calamities of life on the land. Caitlin highlights how anyone within the agriculture industry tends to be working at such high-pressured levels consistently which can predispose them to the very traits that link to mental illness. This is why it is all the more important to start the conversation, share our stories and check in with our mates.
 
Caitlin recalls a moment during one of her second rounds of clinical depression where her Dad stepped up to make sure that she was okay. “It was a very powerful moment to actually have Dad, who I'd seen struggling forever to not comprehend really what was going on in his life, to then ask me if I'm okay and actually to tell me that he did want me around. That was pretty powerful,” said Caitlin.
 
As a high achiever, it was difficult for Caitlin to summon the strength to speak up, however she eventually realised “if I don’t speak, no one else will.”​

Sense of belonging
Caitlin’s turning point was when she had finished university and decided to go home and spend time on the farm again. As a young adult, Caitlin learnt a lot more about her history and instantly felt re-connected to the property. When talking about the moment her sense of belonging was reignited, Caitlin said she realised the farm was an intrinsic part of her own identity. “You realize that it is as much of a part of you, as you are of it. I realized that it was indeed an integral part of who I am and what I do and why I do it.”
 
“I really used that year to also get to know my local community again. I took that opportunity to reacquaint myself with the community and people now, who I have a great relationship with and I adore, and they do exceptional things in the area. It was really that year that made me realize that I had to be involved in agriculture and my home and by extension, our community, going forward.”
 
A common theme for people who grow up in small communities is that innate sense of connection to their land and community. It’s hard to find anything that beats the tight-knit, spirit that exists between families, and also the sense of belonging that always keeps you coming back. It is that sense of community that Caitlin is also grateful to experience at Clayton Utz.
 
As a result of being involved in two highly different careers, Caitlin has a profound appreciation for the true simplicities of what farm life can bring. “In the corporate world you do tend to get lost in your computer screen. You can get lost from reality. I think going home and building a fence or working in the yard, or just digging in the dirt in the garden brings me back to nature, and brings me back really to what is necessary in life. It makes you think about what you actually need in life, to survive. All I need is a patch of dirt, my beautiful family and my friends around me.”

To listen to the podcast, head to the Humans of Agriculture channel on Apple or Spotify and select Episode 37 “HoA: ‘A career in Law & Farming’ with Caitlin McConnel”.
​

By Lucy Ziesemer

I’m writing this on Sunday night feeling oddly optimistic.

I know all the ‘be your best self’ gurus would advocate we use the weekend to fill our hypothetical cups instead of draining the more hold-in-your-hand variety, but I’m a realist and know most of you aren’t opposed to the celebratory clink of champagne glasses and beer bottle necks. In my experience and much to my continued dismay (insert eye roll here), Sunday nights are usually wrought with the ick, where the thought of Monday morning sans friends, fun and folklore far from blows your hair back. No matter how much you love your day job, the weekend exists for a reason. Now I’m no TED talk fiend, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve realised it’s possible and actually quite an organic process to fill both one’s life cup and their beverage cup simultaneously. It’s all down to the people you share “here’s cheers” with, and with my marriage to a Western Man only a couple of months away, I’m now unwrapping deeper layers of what it is to be a woman on the land thanks to snippets of insight shared over beverages of all kinds (Bushells tea, Pimms, a good old fashioned red- you name it) by women who really know the drill.

I’ve always been quite independent and sure of my abilities and direction. Living in the bush, you learn to handle certain things yourself rather than wait days, weeks, maybe even months for perpetually “flat out” professionals to sort it for you. I specify ‘certain things’ because I would rather dig a 4 foot deep long drop in the paddock than go to the toilet with a frog in the bowl. It’s called being resourceful. But as I discovered this weekend, independence is only sustainable with a support network of likeminded individuals lingering in far flung fringes out of sight but certainly not out of mind.

On Saturday, I was introduced to a group of women, some who travelled 700 odd kilometres, to celebrate and welcome me to the “wild western women’s club.” Without exaggeration, I was starstruck. These ladies offered me pearls of wisdom money couldn’t buy about what it takes to stay married to a Western Man. More than “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach...” who knew?! 

(N.b- I’ve learned that ‘Western Man’ is actually a proper noun and widely used by long married women residing in rural and remote areas of Queensland, hence the capitalisation.)
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While the effort the ladies went to to be there did not escape me, it was clear they truly wouldn’t have been anywhere else. And the big resounding lightbulb moment from all of this, was that women on the land are a force to be reckoned with. In my young life I’ve experienced one significant drought. In theirs they’d endured dozens. They’d surmounted isolation, hardship, and no doubt numerous uphill battles and revelled in joyous victories, small wins and happy days in equal measure. Garth Brooks (up there with Shania Twain in my books) sings a song he dubbed “The River.” It describes life for the ebb and flow that it is, be it rapids roaring and dragging with an invisible undercurrent daring you to lose your balance, or a gentle ripple where a leaf could fall and float undisturbed, peaceful. The western women reminded me that we are unique, multipurpose vessels of strength, hope, humour, love, determination, passion and power. They reinforced the importance of connection in order to combat the oxymoronic feeling of being smothered by so much space. They encouraged things I already knew, like not losing sight of what’s important and using nature as a source of energy- a practice I try to employ daily. 

Western Women, and yes they can be a proper noun too, are a breed of their own. Not better than Eastern Women, but maybe different in minuscule ways the naked eye or otherwise concerned wouldn’t recognise. The best metaphor I can conjure is that Western Women are chameleons, equally comfortable serving party pies at tuck shop, on their annual salt and sand craving pilgrimage to the coast, or branding calves and changing the oil in crusty rust bucket Toyotas at home. 

I feel honoured to be inducted into the club- it’s a cool one. Honoured and grateful, to the strong woman who raised me, the strong women who’ve featured in my life thus far, and the strong women I now call friends into the future. How lucky we are to live where we live and do what we do- a distant, out of touch dream for so many.
~ So here I am, happy on a Monday morning! 

By Lucy Ziesemer

​I’ve often wondered what it would cost to make agriculture relatable and had numerous conversations where the general consensus has been “teach them what it’s like to go without.” Statements like these aren’t malicious, but there’s only so many times news stories about food production can be ignored before those in the hypothetical backstage crew start clutching at straws. As it turned out, we didn’t need to go on strike and the hens were free to keep up the good work as consumers saw the world through new eyes organically and of their own accord. 

What we need now is to not forget how far we’ve come. It’s so important. We love growing food and we love that shoppers love dining on it. It is an extremely rewarding experience sending a load of prime grass fed steers to slaughter knowing that beef will be enjoyed in ritzy restaurants, first class steak houses, over the counter at surf clubs and hot off the backyard barbeque. To me, this year is like the first page of a new book, or the ‘this book belongs to’ page with a line for you to write your name. When you make your mark on this, the first year of a new decade, don’t just write your name. Make your mark as an active, enlightened consumer of Australian agricultural produce. Buy your groceries with eyes wide open and aim to learn something as you wander the aisles. A fun fact.. lots of fresh produce actually has the name of the farm and its location detailed on the label, which I reckon is pretty cool!

So welcome 2021, you barefaced, clean slate beauty! This year I desperately hope everyone’s veggie gardens thrive, their chooks don’t go clucky and we keep supporting the Aussie farmers who will never let our fellow Australians’ fridges go bare.

By Oli Le Lievre 

G’day Guys!

Wow, well what a year it’s been, I feel like 2020 has thrown it all at us and then some. It only seemed fitting that I do a quick year in review from my bedroom - which has been my home and office this year.

At home in Australia, the lead in to 2020 was hazy, our cities spent months blanketed by smoke, our regions devastated by drought followed by the worst fires in history as we lived through the ‘Black Summer’ of 2019/20. 24 million hectares burnt, three billion animals were killed or displaced (9 News), followed by flooding rains the impacts of Climate Change on our doorstep with the world watching.
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On the 8th of January I was in the freight facility at Melbourne Airport looking at Rock lobster bound for China as the first indications of the impact of Corona Virus began to show its face. Before we knew it our streets were empty and the shelves were bare, friends were losing jobs and a virus, in effect nature was in control. The world stopped.
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With our lives fundamentally changing before our eyes I had so many questions that I wanted to ask - we needed to actually talk about these challenges, engage in real dialogue and challenge the status quo to deliver solutions that create more vibrant and prosperous societies.

In order to make agricultures influence in our daily lives relatable, I knew I needed to broaden our perspectives as who we see influencing our food and fibre system from paddock right through to plate. I needed people to share their own stories, yet I lacked the confidence and courage to speak about it myself and dreaded to put my face to it – my first video took me more than a week to upload after recording.
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I reached out to Chef and co-Founder of Three Blue Ducks, Mark LaBrooy and with a gentle shove from Brianna Casey the Humans of Agriculture podcast was launched, complimenting our photo stories we were sharing.
 
Providing me the chance to ask those ‘dumb questions’ (that I really wanted to ask); to understand more about people, to get better at listening to their stories and develop my own understanding. Some 41 episodes on, our content has been downloaded more than 15,000 times in 56 countries around the world. Thank You!!
 
There’s been a lot of memorable moments and so I wanted to share a couple that really stand out and to me, they were moments when things clicked and I felt like maybe despite feeling like I was going around in circles there could be relevance:

• I realised that we have so  many people who don’t see themselves as part of agriculture, six words by Sammie O’Brien were a real highlight in Episode 26 “I’m a Human of Agriculture Oli!”
• We developed our first Proof of concept of ‘Beyond the Gate’ a chance to further our content creation beyond blogs, photo stories, podcasts and into the realm of video
• I met a young bloke by the name of Ricky, his story of resilience and perseverance and showing up despite the odds was awe inspiring. Suffering extreme burns he had ambitions despite doctors advice of returning to Central Qld to become a chopper pilot and live a normal life on the land. His story was shared more than 800 times, seen by more than 220,000 people and commented on 271 times. Ricky told me he hoped that one person could be helped by his story, and boy of boy have you exceeded that mate!!
• Movember rolled around and we wanted to get a team together that not only raised money, the priority was to get people talking. To open-up and share personal stories about Men’s health and hopefully take small step in reducing the stigma particularly around mental health. We ended up raising $22,000, Will ran a triple marathon in an amazing display of physical and mental toughness. Yet this month we still have men, and even mates in rural Australia succumbing to mental illness – There’s so much more we can do. I look forward to sharing my chat with the team at Trademutt & TIACS in early 2021.

 
And yet amongst a year of challenges, through grief and some incredibly lows, we were able to put the wheels in motion for a community of people that have an interest in bettering themselves and the world around them through their relationship with agriculture. Through sharing more than 105 stories we are able to create a better understanding of the role agriculture plays in the lives of every person everyday.

We’re 1% of the way to our goal of sharing 10,000 stories of people involved in agriculture. In 2021 we’re looking to partner with people and organisations that share our vision that agriculture is fundamental to healthier, happier and more prosperous communities. We know storytelling is incredibly powerful to help grow our understanding and shape the futures we desire.

So if you’re interested get in touch with me oli@humansofagriculture.com as we get More People, More Often, Identifying with Agriculture.

I hope you have a safe Christmas, and that 2021 is a year of opportunity, that we continue to learn and adapt to the world we live in and that we acknowledge the importance of connection.

Stay safe and stay sane and see you in 2021!  

By Lucy Ziesemer

It may be hard to believe, but I’ve never given too much thought to the fact that I’m a woman in agriculture. With no sons in our family and being the eldest, I guess I assumed the role of Dad’s right-hand man/ gopher early on. I loved the outdoors, especially watching Dad work cattle and observing his way with stock. I have memories of sitting on the top rail in the backyards watching Dad and his stockmen yard up. Prior to the advent of cross breeding and knowledge of the ways it benefitted the Australian beef industry, a significant number of beef operations were Hereford based. By the time I was old enough to know the front end of a beast from the back, Mum and Dad had moved into Charolais cows for their Charbray operation. It was an artwork to six-year-old me. White cows flowing like foam from a wave funnelled together by an invisible fence conjured by some sort of magical force the men created placing their bodies and directing their eyes to just the right spot. It was mesmerising and I yearned to know the secret. I wanted to know where to point that magic yard stick that was an unspoken language between human and beast.
 
It never occurred to me that Dad’s ringers were always male. I would blunder into the yards with Mum delivering smoko and share an Iced Vo-Vo with the men, listening to them discussing things I didn’t understand. I still remember the day I realised ‘beast’ was a singular term for cattle and not the savage monster from my imagination. As I got older, I didn’t care that I had skinny arms and needed both of them to close the slide gate when the men shut it with a finger. The same is true today. Some may call it poor parenting, but I couldn’t disagree more. I was not mollycoddled as a kid. If I fell off my bike and skinned my knee, Dad would quite literally “rub it better” so hard that the friction burn distracted from the stinging graze. Cut up hands from fencing with barbed wire? Find a solution- get some gloves. If a pipe needed digging up, you marched into the mud with your shovel and dug like you had a job to do, not like a girl. I was never treated differently for being a female even if some days I would have loved someone say “you’re right darlin’, have a spell.” That’s why I never paid any attention to the fact that a woman working on the land was somewhat unusual. I knew I wanted to be there come Hell or high water, so I got on with it.
 
There will always be aspects of the job I’m less capable at. Take something as simple as straining a fence for example. I can get it pretty damn tight and totally stock proof, but I’ll guarantee if a bloke came along they’d get one more click on the chain every time. This doesn’t worry me in the slightest, it’s just a fact. But there’s a conflicting ideology applied to women in the workplace, whatever workplace that may be, that puzzles me. We’re seeing women in traditionally male dominated roles more and more and on the one hand we call out for equal representation because we’re good at what we do and it’s normal for women to perform these tasks, and on the other hand we expect to be cheered along the way for simply doing a job. Shouldn’t the goal be to get the job done and share a knock-off beer at the end of the day?
 
The rise of #womeninag excites me. I’m on board for celebrating women in agriculture, and before you shout HYPOCRITE, I will say I think the hashtag serves a greater purpose of celebrating agriculture itself. I think it’s great we’re showcasing women’s achievements on the land because it’s drawing attention to what we’re actually trying to promote- Aussie agriculture. We know we’re tough and fine-tuned to hard work, but we love what we do and the daily grind it entails for us. It is my hope that #womeninag inspires the next generation of producers to question where their food and fibre comes from, encourages them to embrace Australia’s vast landscape and the potential it holds, and fosters a love for agriculture through watching the men and women paving a path before them.