Chris Raines was a good teacher.

Dr. Chris Raines, 1981-2011

Now, I never sat in Chris’s classroom, but I know this is true. See, like so many others, I met Chris online through his Twitter “handle”  @iTweetMeat. From the get-go, I knew this guy was smart and witty. On so many occasions, he challenged my comments when he could have so easily passed them by. One of the first interactions I remember was when I made a comment about how farmers shoudn’t be held responsible for people who get sick from raw milk, because they knew that danger was there. Chris automatically came back at me, asking if that meant meat processors shouldn’t be held responsible for food poisoning because people should just cook it all the way? It was instances like this where he forced me to re-examine my beliefs, look at them from another angle, and learn something along the way. That’s why I know Chris was a good teacher in his “real life” job as a meat science professor at Penn State. I think he did things like that with his students every day.

Last night, Chris lost his life in a car accident and the online community of “AgChatters” and “Agvocates” lost a great friend. It’s amazing how close of a relationship you can form with someone in the digital space. I’ve spent my day randomly bursting into tears, despite the fact that my actual, in-person interactions with Chris were few. That doesn’t matter, though, because I will always remember his ability to teach us all, while making us smile at the same time. He will be sorely missed.

Last night, I had the chance to participate in the first-ever Ella’s Halo Helping Hour. Hosted at my office, around 20 volunteers gathered to fill 500 drawstring bags with things like cameras, water bottles, toiletries, pens and notepads. These bags will eventually be donated to the NICU at one of the hospitals in Minneapolis for parents of preemies having to make unexpected hospital stays.

While Ella’s Halo, the nonprofit hosting the event, is a worthy cause in anybody’s book, it was made even more special for me because it was founded by my co-worker and his wife, after they lost their daughter Ella in 2009.

I don’t know what it’s like to have or lose a child. However, I can’t help but have the utmost respect and admiration for Ryan and Taryn. They took a situation that will forever conjure dual memories of sadness and joy, and they turned it into something that can help others unexpectedly put in similar situations.

I’m looking forward to being able to help with other Ella’s Halo activities in the future and hope you’ll take a moment to visit the Ella’s Halo website. No donation is necessary, but please read Ella’s story. I hope it inspires us all to build up the strength and courage it takes to brave life’s dark situations and turn in them into light.

The Phantom of the Opera.

The funny thing is, I didn’t fall in love with Phantom because of my experience seeing it. No, I fell in love because of what I heard. See, when I was really young, my dad took my mom to Toronto for their anniversary to see the production. They came back with the soundtrack. For weeks and months after that, I would listen to that soundtrack during the hour-long drive to gymnastics practice three to four days a week. I sang like I was an opera singer (or tried to) and memorized all the words. I loved the fact that I could create the storyline in my mind and picture the scenes, simply by hearing the music and piecing together the lyrics from different songs. There was kind of a pact between my dad and I that, when I was old enough, we would go see Phantom of the Opera on stage.

Phantom of the Opera was the first Broadway musical I ever saw. Today, my favorite is Wicked, but there's something in me that just lights up when I hear the notes of any song from Phantom.

Finally, when I was in the eighth grade, I got to go see it when it was on tour in Detroit. I remember we were in the very back row, right in front of the air conditioner so I was freezing. It didn’t matter, though. I was enthralled with the voices and the story. If I wasn’t hooked on musical theater before then, I was now. Could there be any more perfect world than that of a musical? Wouldn’t life be more wonderful if people just burst into song to show their feelings? I thought it would and continue to believe that to this day.

Since that night at the Fox Theater in Detroit, I’ve found a love for many more musicals. Rent, Wicked, The Lion King, Hairspray, Chicago – some of them I’ve seen, while others I’ve just become familiar with through song, much as I did with Phantom. No matter which show it is, though, it never fails that I am taken into that world, where everything can be explained in a song.

Are you a fellow musical theater fan? Is there one show that started it all for you? I’d love to hear about it!

Someone convince me all [our] discussion about food and farms is making a difference!

Now, as someone who has spent a lot of time having discussions about food production and farming, I got really disappointed that a comment like this could be coming from one of our own. Do we really think sharing our stories and talking to people about where their food comes from is a waste of time? Are we really so jaded by bad experiences that we think it isn’t worth it?

I sure hope not.

No matter what I hope for, though, I want to hear from others. Are you a non-farmer who thinks differently about agriculture because of something you learned from talking to a farmer? Are you a farmer who is more optimistic about our future because of an experience you had with someone who doesn’t farm, but wanted to learn more about where their food came from? Please help me feel a little better about all the hard work we do to “agvocate” – because I refuse to believe that it isn’t making a difference.

A group of girl's from my office at Emily's (aka Little Red Riding Hood's) Halloween party!

Over the past few weeks, I’ve put a lot more effort into getting myself out of my apartment to do all sorts of things – whether it’s by myself or with others. I’ve taken a couple trips to the Mall of America and Ikea, and went and chopped all my hair off! I met a girl at my last North Central NAMA meeting and we went to the St. Croix Vineyards one weekend. I ventured to a coworker’s Halloween party, had dinner with another coworker and her sister, and stayed after work for drinks and Happy Hour snacks with people. That’s a lot, compared to what I was doing!

I’ve come to realize just how important it is for me to get out and do things, no matter what it is. Spending time outside of the office and outside of the apartment is important for me keeping my sanity up and my homesickness down. I will admit, though, I’m super excited to head home in 16 days!!

Oh, how naive I was.

Has it been terrible? No. It’s actually been okay for most of the three months I’ve been here. However, there are days, like today, when I miss home so badly it puts me in tears. Out of a pure need to vent, the list below is some of the things I’m missing today.

• The atmosphere of East Lansing on Michigan-Michigan State game day.
• People who love Glee just as much as I do.
• A roommate, best friend, boyfriend or sister who will come crash and watch movies with me or sit and talk for no good reason.
• Spur of the moment trips to the Peanut Barrel or Leo’s. Just because.
• Hours-long complaining and/or gossip sessions about anything that happens to come up.
• Seeing people’s faces, instead of just hearing their voices.
• People who know I’m boring. And still like me anyways.
• My East Lansing family.

I cannot say how excited I am to head back to the mitten for Thanksgiving.

Maybe it’s from all my relatives who profess the joy of TiVo so they don’t have to watch the commercials. Who knows?

In any case, at the suggestion of a co-worker, I watched the documentary Art & Copy this evening. As said co-worker described, it’s a lot of creative directors, art directors and copywriters patting themselves on the back for a job well done. It’s also more than that. It was a good reminder to me that advertising, when done well and when meaningful, can have a lasting impact on society and become an embedded part of popular culture.

As a member of the account team, I’m not the one developing advertising, per say. However, I get to be a part of the process of working with both the clients and creative team to develop something special. I’m not expecting that we’ll create the next “Got Milk?” or “Where’s the beef?” campaign, but at least now I have a little more respect for the advertising work we’re doing and can approach future projects with a greater perspective on what we can achieve.

Below are some of my favorite ads mentioned in Art & Copy. What are some of your favorite advertisements or advertising campaigns?

And, because everyone loves a good “Got Milk?” commercial…

I’m not going to recap the whole conversation, because I think that’s been done and you can find recap videos on FoodDialogues.com. What I will do is add to the collection of observations, hoping that input from throughout the farming and non-farming community will continue to stretch our ability to interact.

Words matter. If we’re not using the right ones, we’re not having an inclusive dialogue.

I had a friend once tell me that they hated the phrase “need to be educated.” To her, educating someone is a one-way street. You don’t know something, and by darn, the other person is going to tell you exactly what you should think. It’s not interactive.

On the same token, the term “consumer” is one that automatically separates groups into an “us versus them” mentality. This is especially true in agriculture. Consumers are “those people” who consume goods (in our case, food products) without knowing or caring where they came from. “They” know nothing about farming.

Throughout the entire Food Dialogues conversation – both across the country and in the room where I sat in St. Paul – these words and phrases were abundant. We need to educate consumers. The answer to our problems is consumer education about modern farming methods. If we just talk with consumers and share our stories, we can educate consumers about what they don’t understand.

This drives me nuts.

If we don’t place priorities on using language that is interactive and inclusive, we’ve missed the whole point of a dialogue. We haven’t listened. We haven’t learned from each other. And we won’t change anything. Words matter. As the Food Dialogues movement moves on, we have to remember that or we’re wasting our time.

Reach beyond the choir. Did we do it?

There was a great push to have farmer involvement in the USFRA dialogues, both online and in person. I think this is great. However, from my observations, what was missing throughout the entire day was those on the other side of the conversation. Farmers were in abundance both in the audience, online and on panels, but I feel like the voice of the typical, everyday food purchaser was missing. Where’s the college student who has no money, but is trying to eat more than mac and cheese? Where’s the mom who dreads taking three kids into the grocery store, but knows it needs to be done? While we had a panel of experts who were friendly to agriculture, there was a noticeably absent voice from everyday America. In my opinion, if we just continue to talk to ourselves, this “movement” is not a movement at all. Rather, it’s just us taking four hours out of our day to make ourselves feel better.

A step in the right direction, but miles to go.

Overall, I thought the Food Dialogues were a step in the right direction. The agricultural community opened themselves up to a wider audience and, I think, genuinely wants to be a part of the conversation. However, if we don’t open ourselves up to the hard topics and genuinely have a dialogue about those, we’re not going to build any bridges. Someone described coverage of controversial topics on Thursday as infomercial-like. I’d say that’s pretty accurate. The same old talking points were covered multiple times. Only once did I hear someone say, “I’m going to talk about this on a personal level…”. I’m not saying we have to have an “I’m right in using _______ (fill in the blank with pesticides, antibiotics, hormones, etc.)” answer – in fact, I’d rather we didn’t. I’m saying that we need to be able to to converse about those issues without throwing up the defensive wall and genuinely ask people why they hold the beliefs they do.

In order to continue having successful dialogues, conversations need to be filled with inclusive language and people on all sides of the food system. We also all need to have the understanding that every single one of us won’t have the same opinion — two small farmers have different ideas, two large farmers, two organic farmers, two butchers, two professors, two moms. We all come to the table with different beliefs and experiences. That’s why the root of conversations needs to be, “Why to you believe that _________?” and the question needs to be followed by genuine listening from all participants.

These are just my thoughts, though, and I know lots of people have already blogged about their feelings. Check out Michele’s and Jeff’s posts for some different opinions. What did you think about the Food Dialogues? Was it a step in the right direction? Was it the same old, same old? I’d love to hear others thoughts and keep the conversation flowing.

On September 11, 2001, I was an eighth grader at Brown City Junior High School. I walked into my second-hour history class, taught by Mrs. Johnson, to find the television on and turned to the news. It was common to watch films in that class, but watching normal TV was definitely out of the ordinary. We had missed the first plane hitting the towers, but within 10 minutes of class starting, we saw the second one hit. I remember feeling more amazed than anything, without a real handle on or understanding of what was going on.

We would be watching a lot of news that day. No assignments were given out, no one talked much and, in band, no music was played. At the time, our band room was in the elementary school building with no television. Instead of rehearsing, we walked down to the high school and sat with another class. It’s funny the little things like that which stick in your brain, but in every class, during lunch and when I got home that afternoon, the news was the one constant thing I remember like it was yesterday.

Since that day, a lot of things have changed. I graduated from high school and college. I got a job and moved to the big city on my own. I went from being a kid to an adult, growing up in the shadow of September 11, 2001. I hardly remember flying before full body scans, “terrorism” has been a major part of my world view vocabulary for nearly half of my life, and, for the first time this year, I have a family member in the military who could be deployed to the Middle East.

September 11, 2001 played a big role in shaping my generation. We will never forget, because we can’t. To quote President Roosevelt, that moment in time is “a day that will live in infamy” — not only for millennials, but for the world.

Baby steps.

So, the other day while surfing Pinterest (of which I am now mildly addicted), I found these cute easy-to-do coasters. With just a few materials, I could stop leaving Coke rings on my tables!

You will need scrapbook paper (or wallpaper leftovers or photos or anything else you’d like on your coaster!), 4×4 white bathroom tiles ($0.16 at Home Depot), spray adhesive, felt pads (like what you put on the bottom of table legs) and clear spray paint.

Step 1

Cut out pieces of scrapbook paper slightly smaller than the 4×4 tile. By making them a little smaller, you don’t have to worry about over-hang or the paper peeling off later.

Step 2

Spray the back of the paper square and adhere to the tile. Smooth out any bubbles and let dry for a few seconds.

Step 3

Spray a layer of clear spray paint over the top. This will help protect the paper from water/condensation from your drinks and help keep the paper from peeling. Let dry according to spray paint can directions.

Step 4

Stick felt pads on the bottom corners of your coaster.

I found these little plastic dot things at Home Depot and they worked just as well as the felt pads. They also lift the coaster a little off the surface of your table for extra scratch-proof-ness.

Step 5

You’re done! See, super easy!

The coasters I made!

Since I found scrapbook paper on sale at Joann Fabrics 4 for $1.00 and the tiles were only $0.16, I could have easily made a ton more of these. But, since I’m living single, I didn’t really have a reason to go beyond 6 (even at that, I’m thinking of taking one or two to work).

If you’re looking for a fun and easy weekend project, I’d encourage you to give this a shot. They’re great for yourself or as a gift. Have fun picking out scrapbook paper that fits your personality and dive right in!