Who Are You Representing? A Farmer’s Trip to Washington DC

Your Story Matters

As I sat around another conference table in Washington, D.C., I looked around and realized something.

There were seven women farmers representing six states. Together we represented more than 74,000 acres of American agriculture.

But acreage wasn't the most valuable thing we brought with us.

We brought our stories.

I've had the opportunity to advocate for agriculture and the rice industry in Washington many times over the years, but every trip reminds me why it's so important that farmers continue showing up. It's easy to assume someone else is telling our story. For decades, commodity organizations, industry leaders, and agricultural associations have worked tirelessly on behalf of farmers, and I'm incredibly grateful for that work.

But there is something powerful about hearing directly from the people who live it every single day.

How can anyone truly understand unless they've been there?

Recently, I traveled to Washington with six other women farmers that comprise my Soil Sisters Peer Group from six different states. We came from different operations and different backgrounds, but we all shared one purpose: to have honest conversations about the realities of farming today.

We showed up as farmers first, but also as wives, mothers, financial analysts, commodity market experts, agronomists, HR managers, insurance professionals, and ag technology leaders. Modern farming demands that kind of expertise. Today's family farmer isn't simply planting and harvesting crops—we're managing multimillion-dollar businesses while caring for the land that has often been entrusted to our families for generations.

Those conversations reminded me that our voices carry far more weight than we sometimes realize.

It became increasingly apparent that farmers traveling to Washington DC on their own behalf was unusual. Each office we visited the first question was, "Who are you representing?" When we answered "ourselves and our family farms" there was often a pause or a look of confusion. Most visitors come representing an association, a commodity group or a lobbying organization. We represented none of those. We represented the people who sign the operating note every spring, make payroll, worry about weather forecasts, and hope the markets improve before harvest.

In one office, we were told that the entire staff was trying to understand who we were. She told us that she believed we were seven strong women farmers who came to change DC! We may not have changed DC in that one visit but we made one heck of a splash.

The Story Behind the Statistics

In agriculture, we talk a lot about acres, yields, exports, and markets. Those numbers matter.

But numbers don't explain the uncertainty of planting a crop when prices are below the cost of production. They don't capture the weight of borrowing hundreds of thousands of dollars before a single seed goes into the ground, hoping weather, markets, and policy somehow align in your favor.

They don't explain the pride that comes from continuing a family legacy or the responsibility of knowing the decisions you make today may determine whether the next generation has the opportunity to farm tomorrow.

They certainly don't explain the love a mother has as she teaches her children to respect the land, recognize God's hand in every growing season, and appreciate the wildlife and beauty that surround their family farm.

Those are the stories we carried to Washington.

We shared what life actually looks like on our farms and why the decisions being made there have real consequences back home. Every spring, we commit hundreds of thousands, sometimes millions, of dollars of borrowed capital to producing a crop we cannot guarantee we will harvest profitably. We have no control over the cost of our inputs, the weather, geopolitics, world markets or the sales price of our products. We spend long days, sleepless nights, and countless hours making difficult decisions while hoping this year's work will be enough.

Those are the conversations people remember.

Advocacy Isn't Reserved for a Few

One thing I hope every farmer understands is this: advocacy isn't reserved for board members, lobbyists, or industry leaders.

It belongs to all of us.

Every producer has a perspective that deserves to be heard because no one can tell the story of your farm better than you can.

Whether it's meeting with an elected official, serving in a commodity organization, inviting someone to your farm, or simply sharing your experience when the opportunity arises, your voice helps people better understand American agriculture.

It isn't just the story itself that matters.

It's the heart, the sacrifice, and the hard work behind the story.

Why This Matters Now

Agriculture is facing challenges that will shape our industry for years to come.

Here in Arkansas and the Mid South, the rice industry is facing pressure from every direction. According to the USDA, Arkansas planted 34 percent fewer rice acres in 2026 than in 2025—the smallest rice crop of my lifetime.

Every acre that disappears affects far more than one farm.

It means fewer trucks hauling grain. Fewer dryers operating during harvest. Less business for equipment dealers, seed companies, local banks, restaurants, and Main Street businesses. It means fewer jobs, less tax revenue, and growing uncertainty throughout rural communities that depend on agriculture.

Sometimes I wonder why our collective voice isn't louder.

Trade policy, infrastructure, labor, global competition, and a long-overdue Farm Bill aren't simply policy discussions in Washington. They determine whether family farms can remain profitable and whether rural communities continue to thrive.

That's why it's more important than ever that farmers stay engaged.

If we aren't part of the conversation, someone else will define agriculture for us.

My Hope

I wanted to share this experience because I hope it encourages more farmers to get involved.

You don't have to know every policy inside and out.

You don't have to have all the answers.

You simply have to be willing to tell your story honestly and respectfully.

One of the greatest lessons I've learned through Field Good Life is that the more vulnerable I'm willing to be, the more people seem willing to listen. Vulnerability isn't weakness. It's often the bridge that helps someone else understand a life they've never experienced.

People do want to hear from the men and women who grow their food.

At the end of the day, advocacy isn't about politics.

It's about making sure agriculture has a seat at the table.

Food security shouldn't be a Republican issue or a Democratic issue. It's an American issue.

Understanding must come first. Negotiation comes second. When agriculture becomes nothing more than another political talking point, everyone loses. Keeping America's farmers profitable and protecting our domestic food supply should be something every citizen can support.

Rice is the most important grain in the world. Every day it nourishes billions of people, yet today the American rice industry faces challenges that threaten its future. That should concern every one of us.

I don't believe the future of American agriculture has been written yet.

But I do believe our willingness to tell our stories will help write it.

That's why I'll keep showing up.

And I hope more farmers will, too.