5/17/12

Growing Up in Georgia 4-H

A speech for the Whitfield County 4-H Club.

                Throughout the years, I have been asked to defend Georgia 4-H in many different situations.  From college friends who thought of it as a hick organization to state legislators who have asked me if the program is still relevant in a time of budget cuts, I have had many chances to give a list of bullet points describing the value of the program.  I have always struggled in these conversations and situations because 4-H has had such a tremendous impact on my life that it is hard to summarize in 30 seconds.  Often, after listing a few attributes such as 4-H’s ability to develop leaders and its ability to educate youth in non-traditional settings, I conclude by saying something that sounds cliché like:  4-H has made the person I am today.  Most people don’t give me an opportunity to explain what I mean by that, but I’d like to take the next few minutes to share my story with you.
                I grew up in Claxton, Georgia on a farm.  My grandparents lived right down the road from me, and I spent countless hours at their house snooping through their closets and drawers to find out more about my dad and how he grew up.  One day, when I was tall enough to see it, I found a closet shelf full of trophies.  Nana explained that the trophies were my dad’s old 4-H awards from steer shows and project achievement.  She told me all about the projects he participated in while he was in 4-H.  It sounded like so much fun!  I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to participate. 
                In fifth grade, 4-H became even more attractive.  My dad came up with the great idea that summer to put my older sister, younger brother, and me out in peanut fields every morning to weed these terrible things called citrens out of the peanuts by hand.  Every day for about 4 hours, we literally crawled through peanut fields doing this.  He paid us $2.00 an hour, but he wouldn’t let us spend the money because he said we needed to save up.   I truly hated this job!
                During the third week in June 1992, I got a break from peanut weeding to go to 4-H camp.  It was nothing short of magical!  For a whole week, I got to go swimming, canoeing, learn archery, and meet friends from all over the state.  It was one of the most wonderful experiences in my life.  After camp, I wrote a letter to my cabin’s counselor, Mac Gunnels, thanking him and all of the other counselors for such a wonderful week.  Would you believe it?  He wrote back!  He told me that he read my letter to all of the counselors at camp and that it made them cry.  That was amazing to me and was probably the very first time that I learned that something I said or wrote could have a truly positive impact on others.  He asked me to keep in touch and let him know about my future 4-H experiences.   I did.  Through most of middle school and a little of high school, I stayed in touch.  In 6th grade, I told him about my decision to accept Christ, and he celebrated with me with the nicest letter.   During times in high school when so many of my friends made fun of that decision and what it represented, I thought of his support and how nice it was to know that someone I looked up to supported my decision.
                As you can imagine, I continued to do everything I could in 4-H because (1) it got me off the farm; and (2) it continued to expose me to the most wonderful people and experiences.   Our county agents, Mike Dollar and Tonya Beasley, seemed to ALWAYS have time for me – no matter how busy they were.  They would let me sit in their office and talk with them, often well past 5 o’clock, about whatever was on my mind.  Now – years later – I don’t remember much about the conversations, but I do remember the amazing investment in time that they gave me.  In fact, when I was making my most recent career transition, it was my county agents that I thought most often about.   I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I knew who I wanted to be like.  Because of their patience and positive support, they were names that came up most often to the top of my list.
                4-H gave me wonderful opportunities to explore things that I thought I was interested in.  In middle school, I just knew I wanted to be a veterinarian.  I asked my dad to help me with my projects on dog care and swine, and he did more than that.  One Saturday morning, he came to the house and told me to hop in the truck.  He drove over to a lot on the farm where people were staring at a poor cow that was obviously in distress.    My dad explained that she was trying to deliver twins that were co-joined at the head, and he told me to pay attention to the vet that was helping her.  Two minutes later, I was back in the truck, white as a sheet.  Without any college loans to pay back, I knew that I needed to change my future career path.  I attribute that experience fully to my involvement in 4-H and the conversations that my dad and I had as a result of that involvement. 
                After the cow incident, I switched my project to public speaking.  I spent the next several years giving speeches – first in my community, and then all over the state.  You have no idea how valuable those experiences were - and continue to be - to me.   During my third year in law school, I did an externship with a local attorney named John Williams.  As part of the externship, I tagged along with him to courthouses all over eastern Virginia.  One day, he asked me if I wanted to defend a client in a criminal trial.  Thinking I would have plenty of time to prepare with him, I said, “Sure!”
  He smiled at me and asked, “Can you be ready to go in thirty minutes?”
Let me tell you, I was scared out of my mind.  A real trial, impacting real people, in a real courtroom looks very different when you are a third year, inexperienced law student than it does when you are watching it on tv.  I walked to the client room where I was to meet the defendant for the first time, and I thought about running back to John and telling him that I just couldn’t do it.  But – at that very moment – I thought about all the times I had done public speeches in 4-H when I was scared, and I realized that if I could do that then that I could handle this case now.  I walked through the door, met my client, and conducted my very first trial that afternoon.
If you participate in enough 4-H activities, you eventually end up with friends all over the state.  I am proud to say that Keri Gandy Hobbs, who I met when we were hanging up our officer candidate signs at the Canteen at Rock Eagle in 7th grade, Leigh Varnadoe, who I went on a leadership tour of Georgia with as a tenth grader, Kelle Spencer Ashley, who I was a counselor with at Rock Eagle, and Marcy McElveen Pugliese, who was my best Evans County 4-H friend, just threw me a baby shower last year.  Emily Howard Watson, who I planned meetings with as a fellow Jr. Board officer in middle school, now participates with me in meetings as a co-worker at the Archway Partnership at the University of Georgia.  And – to name drop a little – Jennifer Nettles, who is the principal singer in Sugerland, was my cabin’s “Milk Mama” at Rock Eagle in 7th grade.*  With the exception of Marcy - all of these people lived hours away from me, but we were able to grow up together because of our experiences in Georgia 4-H.
I could go on for hours about my experiences in 4-H and still not be able to fully recount the profound impact it has had on my life.  As I mentioned at the outset, it has made me the person I am today in so many different ways.  And – lucky for me - my story isn’t over yet.  As my life progresses, I look forward to adding onto my story and onto this speech.  But - tonight, I look forward to learning a little about your stories and seeing how 4-H is making a difference in your life too.  Congratulations on your awards and good luck as you daily try to make the best even better.

* To be completely honest, Jennifer Nettles would have no idea who I am today.  However, we did speak one time when she told me I couldn't change out of wet socks at camp because I needed to get to a dance at the rec hall.  Fortunately, Mr. Dollar intervened and let me change my socks anyway.  At any rate, it is cool that I had one brush with someone soon-to-be famous.     


                 

                 


No comments:

Post a Comment