You know what? Screw Farming.

OK, now re-read that first sentence. I did not say “Farmers”.

I said “Farming”. Believe me when I say, farmers are already getting it. They have been for decades.

It is worth shouting from the mountaintops — Our nation is rotting from the top down. Everything that is happening socially is designed to disorient, divide, and sow the seeds of distrust. If we are to heal as a nation, we must rebuild a supportive network starting at the community level. We must rebuild our trust in one another at the local level, and work upwards.

The most effective means of rebuilding a supportive network at the community level starts with our relationship with food. Food is a wonderfully sexy, culturally-defining aspect of life, and it is criminal that we live in a nation that glorifies the literal consumption of poison. Everything about the way a society functions is directly tied to the food we eat. Currently, the United States is a highly processed, fast food nation — and our declining health rates, skyrocketing anxiety, and borderline violent distrust in one another reflects the food that we are being served.

Sadly, we live in an era where farmers do not produce food - farmers produce commodities. Farmers have been so removed from consumers, that a quantifiable percentage of Americans actually believe that chocolate milk comes from brown cows. The industrialization, centralization, and segregation of agriculture, which has been US Ag Policy for generations now, is absolutely to blame for this disassociation. Screw that. Here is how we fix it:

It is a really big deal to come from a farming background. I do not mean this in the nostalgic, rose-colored glasses kind of way that glorifies one’s own upbringing. Farming is an unbelievably challenging, gritty lifestyle. It is a roller coaster ride, meaning there are highs — and there are lows. In farming, there are days that are cosmically rewarding on a deeply spiritual level. And then there are days where, quite literally, you wish you were dead.

The thing about farming, is that it is real.

You learn, at a very young age, the reality of life versus death. You witness birth. You aid in the sacrality of creation, and the order of things in the natural world. You learn how to bring the soil to fruition and make the earth productive, while also promoting natural habitats. You learn the dignity of life, and how fragile it can be in the blink of an eye.

Farm kids in the traditional sense are true leaders. They were there when their first calf was born. They bottle-fed the newborn its colostrum and got absolutely filthy in the process. They raised the calf to maturity, spending uncelebrated hours and hours teaching it to lead with a halter. They clipped the calf in the summer heat and took it to the fair. Along the way, a network of support — everyone from animal nutritionists, veterinarians, neighbors, educators, friends, and family — came together to offer support.

And yeah, there will always be the jerks who are quick to point out shortcomings and celebrate in someone else’s misery, but the presence of jerks is also a very real aspect of life. As a farm kid, you learn how to grow a thick skin and fight back while also learning the value of working together. There are times when you simply cannot do the work alone. Making hay is a perfect example of this — there were times throughout my childhood when neighbor kids showed up to mow a thousand bales of hay before the rain set in. And then, we reciprocated the gesture by helping them when they needed it.

Farming in the traditional sense teaches the dignity of life versus death. Farming removes the veil of ambiguity to the meaning of life. That prized animal becomes like family. Whether it be a childhood pet, or a special cow from the herd, inevitably, farming teaches you to face the subject of mortality. You quickly learn the individuality of these types of decisions. No two circumstances are ever the same when it comes to life versus death.

Personally, I can tell you that there have been times on the farm when a grievous injury or debilitating situation with an animal forced me to run for the nearest rifle, whereas other situations demanded calm, cool, collected nurturing. Each time is different. There are no blanket solutions, and growing up on a farm is the most effective means of facing these very real situations.

How a nation treats its livestock is a precursor to how it will ultimately treat its people, and if we allow the loss of individuality in factory farming to define how animals are raised and the natural world is treated, inevitably, we will suffer the same fate.

When I say “Screw Farming”, I mean it. Never forget the sense of individuality that has been taken from us.

— Dan Wegmueller is the owner of Wegmueller Farms and his column appears regularly in the Times. His website is https://www.farmforthought.org.