Children of the Land

Presentation at Ohio State University March 1-3, 2000

I acknowledge support by the National Institute of Mental Health (MH 43270, MH 51361, MH 57549), a contract with the U.S. Army Research Institute, research support from the MacArthur Foundation Research Network on Successful Adolescent Development Among Youth in High-Risk Settings, a grant from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development to the Carolina Population Center at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (PO1-HD31921A), a Research Scientist Award (MH 00567), and a Spencer Foundation grant.

In his book Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens refers to a time like the present -- "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." The "best times" today refers to unparalleled prosperity in urban America; the "worst" a time of "great trouble" on the farm. A Midwest newspaper saw an "economic storm" ahead last winter, with commodity prices dropping far below the cost of production. We are clearly in this storm, and just after "the farm crisis of the 80s" that seemed "like the Great Depression" all over again. Some 13 years ago, I joined a project in Iowa to understand the "human face" of this 1980s crisis.

Iowa's casualties of this crisis in 1989 included a great many farm foreclosures and bankruptcies. White crosses symbolizing "lost farms" were scattered across a courthouse lawn in the region. By the early 90s, construction was still down by 40 percent from the late 70s. And many businesses had boarded up windows and "for sale" signs on the main streets of rural towns (Chart 2 -- harvest scene and boarded up store). These photographs contrast the richness of a "harvest" with community decay, a common scene across the state.

Consider these charts of economic change in Iowa for the 1980s (Chart 3 -- farm value). Pressures to expand agricultural production were intense in the 70s when we thought the world was running out of food. The growth in value of farm land and buildings was most rapid up to 1978, but then it declined just as rapidly in the 80s. The chart shows that our study area was most strongly affected by the economic decline. The decline severely restricted the borrowing ability of farmers, forcing many to give up their farms -- a loss that still reverberates in lives and across the generations.

A man spoke of "losing his farm" when asked about "recent changes." His wife noted that the question said "recent changes" and that the farm loss had occurred many years ago. He replied, "It seems 'recent' to me."

Consider also a young mother in a displaced farm family who spoke to her husband about "the long shadow of the farm." You know "the farm still influences us today because you don't like it here ('out of farming') and want to go back. Yet we left there (the Dakota farm) to have a better life. It is hard for the kids and me because we don't understand why you want to go back."

The economic decline left its mark on the region. (Chart 4 -- "starts") I use "building starts" to show the health of Des Moines and stagnation of the study region of north central counties. Change is estimated in terms of the late 70s, with an end point of '92. Construction activity declined abruptly during the early years of the farm crisis. Then it recovered dramatically in Des Moines while remaining depressed in rural Iowa up to the early 90s. The rural sector shows much evidence of continued stagnation. Indeed, inequality has increased between these regions, as it has more generally between rural and urban America.

In the context of these "down times," my story centers resilience -- on "success despite adversity." American agriculture is one of the great success stories of the 20th century, and so are the many families who play a vital role in this venture. My focus tonight is on these families and their young people in Iowa. [They are featured in a forthcoming book with Rand Conger entitled Children of the Land, from the University of Chicago Press in January 2000.]

To understand the impact of these changes, we turned to an earlier study of "Children of the Great Depression" which viewed family responses to hardship as a link between the economic decline and the well-being of young teenagers. (Chart 5 -- "Children"). The Great Depression influenced children by changing their families. Hardship made mother more central in the household.

Our Iowa research team, led by Rand Conger, decided to investigate the lives of young people and their families in eight north central counties (Chart 6 -- study area). This region has some of the best farm land in the state. The 451 Study young people were born at the end of rural prosperity in the 70s and experienced the "great farm crisis" as children. Economic losses were traced to children through their families. With their parents and siblings, we followed them almost annually from the 7th grade (1989) through junior high school to graduation and beyond, a time of important life decisions on advanced education, careers, and family roles. The eldest generation is also part of this project.

Life course theory provided a general way of thinking about this study and the social pathways of the young people. These pathways were influenced by the times, by the "linked lives" of families and friends, and by the timing of events and social changes (Chart 7 -- theory). Life course methods of data collection (Chart 8 -- methods) vary from surveys and interviews to observations based on videotapes of family life in households. We visited schools for academic records and drew upon state and federal census data.

Following the earlier study of "Depression children" in the 1930s, we assumed that economic hardship would adversely affect the lives of the young by increasing the risk of family stress -- emotional distress, marital conflict, and harsh parent behavior (Chart 9 -- IYFP Project). Mounting indebtedness markedly increased such parent behavior and consequently undermined the well-being of young people in the study -- their academic success, self- confidence, and social competence. Strong marriages and social support minimized this negative effect.

Clearly, hard times had negative effects on these young people, but after four years these had faded to insignificance. By the 10th grade, economic hardship as of '89 did not make a significant difference in children's well-being. Even the most troubled children -- those in families that lost their farm -- showed no unusual distress four years later. How is this possible?

For answers, we turned to Iowa families in jeopardy -- those involved in agriculture. In theory, rural communities rely upon such families for leadership, social involvement, and economic resources. We asked whether these families were a primary factor in placing young people on a path to opportunity in the adult years. According to our initial observations, parents and children in farm families do more activities together than in urban families. Their parents are more engaged in community institutions as well. Farm children are counted on to a greater extent. They are more involved in activities that other family members value and rely upon. Of course, not all farming families fit this description, though many did.

To compare these families, we identified variations in family ties to the land (Chart 10 -- family types). These ties refer to families in (1) full-time and (2) part-time farming, to families that were (3) displaced from farming and the land, and to families headed by (4) parents who grew up on a farm. Nonfarm families and their children (5) served as the contrast group. Strength of ties to the land increased from nonfarm to full-time farm families.

Our general model for the study (Chart 11 -- model) links "the farming ties of young people" to the social resources of families, and then to the competencies of young people -- their academic competence, social success in popularity and skills, self-confidence, and the avoidance of trouble. In theory, a young person's ties to the land should enhance their competence through exposure to these resources -- in family relationships (warmth) and joint activities, in children's work roles, in parental ties to community institutions (church, school, civic group, work associations), and in children's social relations with classmates, teachers, grandparents, coaches.

Other influences could, of course, make a similar difference in life chances and we made adjustments for them -- such as education, income, wealth, and residential change. We know that the community involvement of parents could reflect their education and income, as well as their connections to farming. Qualitative along with quantitative data enabled us to employ "discovery" methods as well.

Some individual cases illustrate the connection between family ties to the land and children's competencies. Consider Ralph, a boy from an economically distressed farm family. Despite the economic crisis, his parents were actively engaged in community institutions. Both parents played leadership roles, mother on the school board and father as a church trustee and president of the local grain cooperative. These activities clearly inspired their son and he expressed the ambition to become active in civic life himself, as an adult.

Ralph was signed up for a part in a play, and his success led to many other accomplishments -- as student council president, captain of the cross-country team, and a member of the debate team. We found him in our "resilient" group in the 12th grade. He was doing far better than one would expect, given his family circumstances during middle school. Drama, he believed, had literally "changed his life." In his words " it gave me the confidence to speak in front of groups, and then it "led to music, speeches, and student council."

Many social resources came together to enrich this boy's life and future -- popularity with age-mates, self-confidence, and the ability to stay out of trouble. His accomplishments placed him on a "developmental" pathway to adulthood -- a pathway defined by the presence and quality of "linked" relationships "that make up our lives" -- relations to parents, to teachers, to high achieving friends and supportive coaches. Girls reported similar experiences.

Other examples involve doing well in school work. The new age of high-technology farming requires advanced education since it makes use of satellite information, computerized book-keeping, and skilled management. We find that academic competence is concentrated among the children of farm families, especially the girls. Even children with "only weak connections to farming" were doing better than other nonfarm youth, with adjustments for education, income, and residential change.

First, successful development is unusually common among young people who grew up in families with some connection to agriculture. This development in academic and social skills is especially true for the offspring of full-time farm families (particularly girls).

Even when we take parental education, income, and residential change into account, this pattern remains. To be sure, some farm youth did not succeed, though a high proportion did.

Second, we account for this competence with social ties and other resources, with emphasis on the embeddedness of young people within the larger family and its connection to community institutions.

Our initial studies highlighted the mounting "stresses of economic hardship" in the lives of Iowa children, but we found that they were offset in many cases by the strengths of families with ties to agriculture -- their social resources.

All of these "central themes" of a rural midwestern adolescence have "less" to do with social class than with "the ties that bind Iowans together," both within and between families and social institutions. Estimates of 40% loss of income this year.

The first theme concerns the intergenerational investment of parents who are part of an agrarian world (Chart 12 -- 1st theme). This investment is expressed in the young by adults, in the bond between father and the family farm, and in mother's bridge to the outside world. Within the German-American heritage of north central Iowa, an intergenerational investment is symbolized by a commitment to "passing on the farm" to a son in the younger generation, frequently the eldest. Farming is still largely a male-oriented life style, a way of life and a business.

This is a social world in which father represents a central figure and an active, involved parent in most farming families. Sons and daughters are closest to fathers in farm families, particularly when "they aspire to life on a farm." This aspiration does not entail "making a living" on a farm; very few young people hold this economic view of the future. Farmers warn their sons not to value material possessions if they want to farm. The desire for life on a farm "affirms" the value of this life style. And the more young people embrace it, the closer their relationship to their father. The plan to leave home for another world tends to weaken the shared experience of father and children -- they grew apart over time. You need different priorities.

Mothers on farms make their intergenerational investment through support for advanced education and even a future off the farm. Their primary commitment is to a better future for offspring; the farm is at most secondary to this goal, even among women who grew up on one. This commitment is fueled in part by unhappiness with a life style that offers little economic return or room for investments and activities beyond farming -- such as family travel/leisure and improvements in the standard of living. The significance of mother in children's goals increased when children aspired to life away from farming -- "a life of advanced education and urban residence." "From Generation to Generation," the link between father's significance and the farm ties of youth, and mother as a bridge to the outside world are key but different aspects of an intergenerational investment.

The second theme involves "family connections" (Chart 13 -- 2nd theme -- connections). These connections feature (1) "a sense of family," (2) shared work and social activities in the family, and (3) the value of "being counted on." Farm families are distinguished by their multiple connections among members and their lives. Children in families learn to become a responsible member of the family group. They become part of the whole instead of remaining self-oriented actors. During the daily round of chores, these young people learn that "they are needed" and in feeling needed they are connected to the family and to the adult culture of rural life. When asked how this life influenced him, a teenage boy claimed it gave him a "sense of his family, a strong bond with my brothers and sisters and mom and dad."

Doing things together has much to do with this sense of family and the ties that bind. Boys and girls on farms are more likely to work with parents and siblings, and both activities give them a stake in the family. They quickly learn that failure to carry their weight means that other family members will have to do their work. Farm youth also devote far more of their earnings to "family expenses" such as school and clothing costs than do youth from city households, as in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Another aspect of "family connections" involves joint "social" activities. Farm youth are more likely to participate in social activities with parents than are other young people. These include agricultural groups, civic organizations, and volunteer activities. Shared transportation to town contributes to "family connections" across the generations, along with shared interests. Shared activities and parent criticisms.

Lastly, "a sense of significance" is acquired when lives are lived interdependently. A personal anecdote illustrates this point. During a family garden project some years ago, my youngest son pulled his shovel out of the ground and asked me "whether I count on him." Needless to say, I was startled by this grown-up sentiment from a five-year-old and promptly replied "I sure do, Jeffrey." Without any hesitation, he said: "I work best when you count on me." I immediately ran upstairs to record those words of wisdom. I suspect we all work best when we know people are counting on us. Eventually that sense of responsibility becomes part of our psyche. Farm youth grow up in a culture where people count on them, beginning at a very young age. As a consequence, they learn that they matter in this world and that family matters in their lives.

A third feature of farming culture involves networks of social engagement (Chart 14 -- 3rd theme -- engagement). Much has been said of late about the decline of civic life in the United States. This decline clearly does not refer to Iowa families that have ties to the land. These families are among the most actively engaged in the region. Regardless of education or income, they are much more involved in the collective life of their civic groups, churches, and schools, compared to nonfarm households. Their involvement includes leadership roles as well (such as director of the church choir).

This associational life matters in a number of respects for the developmental future of youth. Compared to the disengaged, involved parents are more aware of opportunities for their children and they are more likely to know how to make such options available to them. Involved parents are likely to be perceived by children as efficacious and admired adults. This emulation is expressed in the link "between involved parents and socially active children." We find that no factor is more predictive of students who participate in athletics and social groups in school than the community ties of parents. Social engagement, then, is passed on across the generations and so is the practice of leadership. Children are inspired by the leadership example of their parents.

One of the most important examples of this social transmission occurs in the rural church. Active parents, typically in farm households, tend to have children who are also involved. Rural churches have made allowances for the growing peer influence during adolescence by establishing a church "youth group." Entry into a youth group during the 8th grade can be thought of as a rite of passage, marking greater opportunity for self-direction and autonomy. The popularity of youth groups on Thursday night is recalled by a 12th grade boy ... "At the time it was just what all your peers were doing." These groups embrace shared values and control, defining a social network in which a youth's parents know the parents of his friends in the "youth group."

A fourth theme stresses "mastery experiences" in labor, academic work, and social activities and leadership, both in school and in community (Chart 15 -- 4th theme -- mastery) (Chart 16 -- girls). Each arena of potential mastery is characterized by relationships with authority and peers. "Fair Time" -- couldn't resist photograph of boy taking a nap.

Activities of labor involve young people in relations with family, employers, and peers; academic work connects most directly with the authority and support of teachers; and both activities and leadership involve students in constructive relationships with peers and adult authority. Overall, then, "mastery experiences" are part of the social resources of farming life. Moreover, these modes of initiative are more likely to be experienced as mastery by youth on farms.

Success "reproduces success" through social reinforcement. Academically successful youth acquire a strong sense of their ability to do well which spurs personal effort to meet standards of excellence. And as noted earlier, socially involved young people acquire greater confidence in their ability to manage any challenge. This personal change is expressed in the confidence of youth who had paid and unpaid jobs or chores. A high-school boy who worked under a manager on a large stock farm told a story of how he gained a sense of mastery. Initially his boss would give him a work list for the day and at first it seemed overwhelming.

"I'd look at the huge list and I'd feel that's impossible. I can't do that. I'd die if I did that. But I ended up getting it done two hours before I'm supposed to get it done. Now I'm not afraid to try anything. I'm not afraid because I know that I can do something if I try my hardest."

Young people who were employed on a paid job stressed four values and skills that they acquired from their work. The importance of responsibility (e.g., to show up on time, to do a careful, thorough job) appears in virtually all of their accounts of work experience. A farm boy recalled the time he had to work at a store on Saturday night, and he did so despite the pleas of his friends. A second value involves "social skills" as mastery of the etiquette of relations with employers and customers. A girl spoke of developing conversational skills through her job as a dentist's receptionist. At first she thought she could not "talk to adults." Related to this skill is the "importance of self-control" -- the ability to control one's emotions, no matter how testy the customer or employer or co-worker. Many stories were told about a "supreme" test of self-control. A fourth value is goal clarification. Work experience told some teenagers that they "did not want" a life based on their current job. Others discovered how much they enjoyed their work, suggesting a possible career.

The fifth and concluding theme centers on "caring adults in young lives" (Chart 17 -- 5th theme -- caring adults) -- this theme involves the (1) power of small worlds, (2) significant adults beyond the family (such as grandparents, other relatives, close neighbors, teachers, coaches, ministers), and (3) "adult versus peer sponsored lifestyles."

Young people with ties to the land are more likely than other agemates to live in "small, overlapping worlds," centered around family, church, school, and civic life. The overlap occurs through the common pool of participants in which "most everyone knows everyone else." In a sense, some of these adults can be thought of as "socially redundant" when no problems beset the family; they represent a safety net, as in the case of grandparents.

Farm families are typically two-parent households with active grandparents and other relatives living nearby. The support this family system can generate is noted by a grandfather who asserts that "being involved with them (the children) on everything makes a big difference. The kids are more proud of what they do, you know ... If you got the backing from Dad and Mom and from Grandpa and Grandma, it all makes a big difference."

The power of small worlds has been documented by studies of families, schools, and communities. Each farm family represents a small community which minimizes the power of the peer group in rural communities. We find that smaller schools provide youth with a greater opportunity to participate in student activities, particularly in leadership roles, when compared to large schools. From the perspective of adult influence, the teaching staff and parent influence tend to weigh more heavily in the smaller schools. Students also claim to have more access to teachers in these schools. Another part of the small world phenomenon is the rural church with its mixture of the generations across the family and community, both old and young. Civic associations tie all of these groups together.

Small, overlapping worlds and access to significant adults beyond the family contribute to "adult sponsorship" in the lives of midwestern young people. This sponsorship refers to a world in which adults are actively engaged in the lives of children and youth. Sponsorship of this kind is expressed in the bond between family and school, in the joint involvement of parents and children in work and social activities, and in the role of the rural church.

Up to this point I have identified five themes of farming life (Chart 18 -- five themes) that appear to contribute to the competence of young people who have ties to the land. Their families are often characterized by (1) a substantial intergenerational investment, (2) by strong family ties, and (3) by parental engagement in the community. Their children are exposed to more (4) mastery experiences through work, school achievement, and social activities. And they (5) benefit from more caring adults in their lives. These themes emerge from our studies of farm families, but they are not exclusive to them. Indeed, we find evidence of them in many places.

At the end of postwar prosperity, the late 60s and early 70s, observers came to a startling conclusion; that to an unparalleled degree, America's children were growing up without adults. Thirty-five years later we see evidence for this assessment in the continuing dissolution of families through hardship, personal instability, homicide, and incarceration.

These symptoms of family distress and breakdown are especially common in a study I have done with colleagues in an inner-city region of Philadelphia. A large percentage of the young people have only one parent and a significant number depend on relatives, if they can. Welfare dependence is high and church involvement is relatively low. To a considerable extent, these inner-city youth must fend for themselves. Dangers are everywhere -- drug sellers, drive-by shootings, and the coercive power of gangs. One of the boys we feature in our Philadelphia book (entitled, Managing to Make It, University of Chicago Press, 1999) did not survive adolescence -- he was the victim of gun violence.

By contrast, Iowa families with ties to the land provide a very different view of children's developmental world. And yet many of the influences that work in the lives of Iowa youth also make a significant difference in the lives of Philadelphia boys and girls -- I refer especially to the social connectedness of families and the active, nurturant role of parents. Despite the odds against success, Black and White parents in Philadelphia can and frequently do have children who survive and even flourish. But they are not as common and reinforced as we find them in Iowa.

More than families who live and work in cities, Iowa parents with ties to agriculture are engaged in community institutions and in the lives of their children. The two forms of involvement are mutually reinforcing. Involved parents in civic life are empowered to do more for their children, while involvement in children's lives underscores the importance of playing supportive roles in community organizations and institutions. In all of these ways, a good many families with connections to agriculture provide resourceful pathways to adulthood for their children, even in a time of scarcity and diminished alternatives for rural Americans.

Several important lessons emerge from our observations. Clearly, many things these Iowa families do are working well for their children. Families matter in the lives of young people, fathers play a notable role as do members of the extended family, such as grandparents. Indeed, various adults play significant roles -- effective teachers and coaches who develop a mentoring relationship to their players.

We need to give more thought to the nurturing ability of small worlds in which children feel important. There is much evidence in this study that supports Hillary Clinton's theme, that it takes a village or small community to raise a child. Our challenge is to propagate the nurturance and connectedness of these Iowa farming families in other places -- in our inner cities, suburbs, and large communities.

Turning back to Iowa families and their farm lands, the time has come to give more thought to the coordination of social and agricultural policies. Today these policies are far apart. Market forces continue to drive families off their farms, even in the large to mid-size range; and industrialized farms with less benefit for rural communities are becoming more common. How can we retain families who farm and invest in their communities and land, and in the next generation? An essential first step is to make family-based farming profitable.