Legacy Business?

Dear Reader,

Some ranchers come from a long unbroken line of ranching, some ranchers come from a short unbroken line, and some ranchers are brave pioneers in uncharted territory for their family. There is also an unofficial fourth category of loop-de-loop, zigzag line of ranching that may kind of skip a generation here or there (I’m in that category). In some ways I come from a long line of ranching, and in some ways, I am a second-generation rancher. What generation you are in can sometimes cause some rifts in the ranching community. People from long lines of ranching get accused of being handed everything on a silver platter, while first generation ranchers can get accused of trying to reinvent the wheel. Things can be said for and against either side of the generational divide of ranching, but both sides at the end of the day are ranchers trying to carry on a legacy.

Most ranch kids know from an early age that a heavy mantle will be placed on their shoulders if they choose to take it up. I don’t know how we know from a young age; it just seems to be an understood thing. Later on in life there are talks about what we want to do when we grow up and whether we want to continue on the ranch or not. But there is never discussion about how hard it will be or the pressure that will be on us if we choose this way of life because we have seen it with our own eyes and felt it in our bones.

We have seen our fathers work until dark figuring out new ways to patch fence and fix wells or getting the truck to make it through another year. We have seen our mothers making coffee for dad in the wee hours and then figure out how to make boots last another month and the grocery money stretch a little bit more. We have seen our siblings do the jobs of grown men at an early age because no other help was coming, and then watched them crying because an animal died. We become well acquainted with the grief and grit of this world before we are ready to take our place in it.

And yet we choose to stay. Some of us choose to stay because of pressure from family, some of us stay despite pressure to leave for a better job. Some of us stay because the family and the ranch need us, and some of us stay because we need the family and the ranch. If we decide to stay, society congratulates us on our bravery and dedication to the legacy of ranching; we are lauded as the feeders of humanity. This same society condemns us for staying. For staying, instead of going to college and exploring the world. For coming back to waste a degree on the family ranch instead of a corporate job with endless opportunities. For not pushing our intellect and potential to its peak because we would rather chase cattle and ride horses far away from the society that doesn’t know if it likes our decisions or not.

Most of the time when ranchers are trying to carry on a legacy, it is not so much for their children to continue the legacy, but for them to have the freedom to choose to continue the legacy or to start their own. I knew that as much as it would please my father for me to continue in my heritage, he would be just as proud if I became a florist or computer programmer. He would be proud because I was doing my best, and he would be pleased because I would be happy. But being a florist or a computer programmer would not make me happy. (This would also not make other people happy if they were my customers.) Being a rancher makes me feel happy because I feel that I am fulfilling a purpose in life. I could work the hardest nine to five there is, and still feel lazy when I got home because there was daylight outside and I was just sitting in my house with nothing to feed.

Maybe ranchers are just gluttons for punishment, stuck in a vicious cycle of feeding, calving, and doctoring in inclement weather. Or maybe, just maybe, they feel something in their soul that says, “You are home.”