How To Make A Difference

Someone should say something. Someone should speak up. Someone should do something.

Well… I’m someone.

AgMoreThanEver released a brilliant video nine years ago about advocating for agriculture – about not waiting for someone else to do it. About stepping up and doing it yourself. Because… you’re someone.

That video had an impact on me. I was already writing at that time. But it encouraged me to keep going. I think we all need that sometimes. It has never been easy to stand up for agriculture. It’s not for the faint of heart. Unfortunately, that hasn’t changed in nine years. Even a simple post on X defending the use of glyphosate can land you into a well of increasingly disparaging, brutal comments, mostly by bots, with no concept of how agriculture actually works.

Fighting the good fight on social media sometimes feels hopeless and, to be fair, it often is. But there are some farmers who’ve had good success in doing so. We should all support them – it can be a lonely fight.

Social media, however, is not the only place to make a difference. There are so many more places that need someone – maybe, someone like you.

The Opportunity to Make A Difference

In 2017, I let my name stand in the election for the Saskatchewan Wheat Development Commission’s board of directors. Little did I know there would be ten people who would. Somehow, I managed to win a seat at the table. For the last eight years, I gave a lot to this organization. My wife birthed three of our four children while I sat as a director, and eventual chair, of SaskWheat. My time with SaskWheat ended in January of 2026.

I’ll admit – it took me two years to feel like I had any idea what was going on at SaskWheat. Two years to grasp the ten thousand acronyms. Two years to understand how to read research proposals. Two years to figure out who the hell all those farm organizations were, and why they existed. It truly is like drinking out of a fire hose.

I’m very proud of what we accomplished. We joined Cereals Canada and the Grain Growers of Canada. We funded many millions of dollars of research projects. We became a name our legislators and politicians came to know. We sent directors across the world, advocating for Canadian cereals. We banded together with like-minded organizations to unite our voices, to share one message, wherever we could.

I learned so much. I learned how to speak to government, our grain importers around the world, scientists, and even other farmers. I learned how our new varieties are developed, how our research stations are funded, and who comes up with new agronomic ideas. I learned how we find customers around the world for Canadian cereals.

Perhaps most important of all, I learned leadership, collaboration, and how to manage conflict. I learned governance and professional skills that have made an enormous difference in how we now manage our farm.

And I learned how to walk away.

After two four-year terms, I was no longer eligible to run again, at least until after a 2-year break. For the first time in eight years, I wasn’t travelling to Saskatoon for board meetings, or deciding which winter meetings and conferences to go to. I was suddenly available again, not just on the farm, but also to get kids to school and sports, finally giving my wife a little more help.

After being so involved, so connected, so deeply motivated to give my best to SaskWheat, to contribute and do my part, for eight years, it was over. It’s kind of like getting on a bus. For awhile, you ride along, getting a feel for it, and you watch a few riders get off at a stop. Eventually, if you’re fortunate enough, you get to drive. Then, faster than you could ever have imagined, it’s your turn to get off. And you watch the bus drive away.

That’s when it hits you: you aren’t needed anymore.

The organization will move on. Someone else will take the wheel. And the bus will carry on, just as it has before. You helped steer it, helped keep it on course, but you were replaceable.

Someday, I will go through much the same experience here on my farm. Someday, God willing, someone from generation four, whether one of my own four sons or one of my nieces or nephews (or a few of them), will step up and take over. And I’ll step off. If I’ve done my job as a leader, the farm will carry on without me – and it will be okay.

It’s the lesson no one tells you about, the one you have to experience for yourself. It’s one of the greatest lessons of them all. This is why term limits are a wonderful thing – eventually, new faces with new ideas need to come forth.

SaskWheat changed my life.

It Will Take More Time Than You Think

You definitely don’t have time to do anything like this. It definitely will interfere with your life. It definitely will take you away from your farm and your family at times, and some of those times are damned inconvenient. It will cause you stress, it will cost you sleep, and at times you will wonder why the hell you signed up for this in the first place.

And yet, if you’re one of those people called to do something, to make a difference, you should absolutely do it. It will change your life. And you’ll walk away from it a new person, with a new list of friends who are right there with you, who completely understand why you’ve done it.

It doesn’t matter if that call is to a commission, or to run for high levels of government, or even to a minor sports or recreation board. They all need people – good people. People who want to make a difference. The truth is, we all can be one of those people. There are just so many organizations that need you. It might be a board, or it might be a volunteer fire fighter, first responder, or to coach hockey.

When the call comes, take it. And figure the rest out later. Because it will change your life. And when it’s over, find a new mountain to climb.

That’s how you can make a difference.