I had pretty much written Luke Bryan out of my country music playlist. It’s not that I didn’t like some of his stuff, it’s pretty catchy, but like all the other “bros” of bro-country, the cliché “country life” crap was starting to get on my nerves.
Then I got excited. I saw he had a new song out called “Here’s To The Farmer.” I thought, “Yes! Here is a redeemer song for my buddy Luke!” and hit the play button. Hey, this is pretty good, nice little groove, lyrics that don’t necessarily make me want to punch myself in the face. But alas, here comes the chorus, accompanied by the first little sucker punch :
Here’s to the farmer that plants the fields in the spring
That turn from green to that harvest honey
Hold one up for the banker downtown
That got him on his feet with handshake money
Here’s to the farmer’s wife that loves him every night
Okay, I do love MyFarmer every single day. But is the most important role that I play on this farm really just the fact that I supposedly, ahem, “love” him every night? Good lord I hope not. And are we really giving the BANKER more credit than the wife here?
But you know, I’m still willing to give this video a shot. I’m not going to pull out my pitchfork for one questionable lyric. The song ends, I’m feeling pretty good about it. Then it happens. The music is over, the camera moves over to Mr. Bryan, and he says it.
“Thank you boys.”
Here I am, right here, on this farm, with the ability to do virtually anything and everything my male husband can do. But don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me or any of the other 969,671 female farm operators in the United States*. I guess the 30% of farm operators that are female probably don’t do much anyway. It’s not like we can actually drive equipment. A woman in a combine? Goodness, don’t be ridiculous! And lets be serious, the only place a woman has on a cattle operation is in the kitchen making hamburgers. Can you even imagine a WOMAN being an agronomist or livestock nutritionist? Lord help us all!
I’m not going to sit here and lie and say that I could hop in our combine or planter and take off no problem, but I personally know a bunch of women that could. But on that same token, if you asked MyFarmer when the last time the mums/kale/pansies/pumpkins were sprayed, what they were sprayed with, and the rate, he would say, “ask Laney.”
I’m so incredibly proud to be a farmers wife. I love MyFarmer and being married to him is such a fun ride. But I’m also proud to say that I am a farmer. I think as women we tend to just be proud of our husbands and settle for calling ourselves “famers wives”, but dammit, we are so much more than just wives, we are farmers in our own right. And it’s time we are recognized for what we do every day.
So, Mr. Bryan, I’m sorry that you don’t see us out here. Truth be told, you’re missing out on some pretty bad ass women. Your loss.
Laney, Owner/Operator, Ruby Branch Farms
*according to the 2012 USDA census