The Rural Life and Raising Boys
I can't tell you how different it was. My boys (ages 5, 6, 10, and 14) were excited to spend their first day on the farm. I was pretty sure the excitement would wear off quickly, especially after spending a long day in the sun, but this is why we had purchased the land in the first place.
With eight children, and no matter how hard we tried, it has been difficult to teach our children to work. How do you teach kids to learn the "law of the harvest" - that you reap what you sow - on a quarter acre? Sure, we came up with as many "chores" as we could, and we measured our successes in how often our kids exclaimed, "none of my friends have to work this much," but the amount of complaining alone let us know that we weren't getting the job done. Our kids were learning to "do work" without learning "to work." Even worse, the amount of arguing between our kids made it clear that they certainly weren't learning to work as a team.
A couple years ago my wife and I watched a short television series about the rewards of raising a family on a rural farm. This show followed Amish, Menonite, and other families around as they did their daily work. Some had given up very promising careers so their families could experience "the rural life." I was intrigued by the level of self-sufficiency, but even more inspired by their children. Their maturity and grasp of life was amazing. They understood that when they ate something, someone had worked to produce it. They seemed to value life a little more.
So my wife and I began looking for a piece of land. We were restricted by my school-teacher salary, but we were sure that with a lot of effort and some help from above, we would find the right place. Last fall, we came across a five acre lot that had been for sale for years... maybe decades. It had been irrigated at some time, but the sagebrush and rocky soil let us know that this was no farm. We made sure we arranged the proper water rights, and waited until spring to begin.
On April 3, my sons and I rented a large tiller and went to work. The nice gentleman at the rental place offered me a tractor for triple the price, and it would have cut my time down to minutes, but I remembered why I bought this land in the first place, and it wasn't for the practice of driving a tractor. It was our hope that we could raise better kids on a larger piece of land.
With eight children, and no matter how hard we tried, it has been difficult to teach our children to work. How do you teach kids to learn the "law of the harvest" - that you reap what you sow - on a quarter acre? Sure, we came up with as many "chores" as we could, and we measured our successes in how often our kids exclaimed, "none of my friends have to work this much," but the amount of complaining alone let us know that we weren't getting the job done. Our kids were learning to "do work" without learning "to work." Even worse, the amount of arguing between our kids made it clear that they certainly weren't learning to work as a team.
A couple years ago my wife and I watched a short television series about the rewards of raising a family on a rural farm. This show followed Amish, Menonite, and other families around as they did their daily work. Some had given up very promising careers so their families could experience "the rural life." I was intrigued by the level of self-sufficiency, but even more inspired by their children. Their maturity and grasp of life was amazing. They understood that when they ate something, someone had worked to produce it. They seemed to value life a little more.
So my wife and I began looking for a piece of land. We were restricted by my school-teacher salary, but we were sure that with a lot of effort and some help from above, we would find the right place. Last fall, we came across a five acre lot that had been for sale for years... maybe decades. It had been irrigated at some time, but the sagebrush and rocky soil let us know that this was no farm. We made sure we arranged the proper water rights, and waited until spring to begin.
On April 3, my sons and I rented a large tiller and went to work. The nice gentleman at the rental place offered me a tractor for triple the price, and it would have cut my time down to minutes, but I remembered why I bought this land in the first place, and it wasn't for the practice of driving a tractor. It was our hope that we could raise better kids on a larger piece of land.
My first indication that our impressions were correct was when (after three hours of hard work) my wife dropped by to see if the five and six year old wanted to go home. They had spent three hours moving large rocks from the soil. Not only had they worked hard, they had hardly taken a break. They seemed more excited to use their shovels than they have been to play video games. When their mother asked them to come home, they both begged to stay and keep working. It was that giant "ah-ha" moment I had been waiting for. My older two helped run the tiller and repaired dikes.
Two days later, we had cleared and tilled nearly an acre and repaired the dikes that had decayed over the last 20-30 years. We have yet to have a disagreement between the brothers who, while great kids, probably haven't gone two days without arguing since they were born.
I came away more convinced than ever that there is something in the male psyche that needs a challenge; that needs to work. Somehow with our modern technology and in our unmatched prosperity, we've lost some of our most important outlets. We let young boys sit at school all day, and then play video games and watch television all night, and then wonder why they struggle to contain their energy. I can tell you from personal experience, that no medication I've seen can help a hyper son as much as work and the resulting exhaustion.
I spent a little time on my grandfather's farm as a kid, but I am by no means a farmer. We're learning as we go, and I'm sure we'll make our share of mistakes, but if day one was any indication, this is a good thing. Even if the fun wears off, for one day, my boys loved to work. That alone is pretty cool. After all, I'm not raising crops, I'm raising boys.
I came away more convinced than ever that there is something in the male psyche that needs a challenge; that needs to work. Somehow with our modern technology and in our unmatched prosperity, we've lost some of our most important outlets. We let young boys sit at school all day, and then play video games and watch television all night, and then wonder why they struggle to contain their energy. I can tell you from personal experience, that no medication I've seen can help a hyper son as much as work and the resulting exhaustion.
I spent a little time on my grandfather's farm as a kid, but I am by no means a farmer. We're learning as we go, and I'm sure we'll make our share of mistakes, but if day one was any indication, this is a good thing. Even if the fun wears off, for one day, my boys loved to work. That alone is pretty cool. After all, I'm not raising crops, I'm raising boys.