What empty halters teach us about responsibility and growth

As summer and fall fairs close across America, the sight of empty halters in barns once bustling with livestock projects can stir deep emotions. These symbols represent more than just the end of the show season — they embody the life lessons young people learn along the way. Whether through social media posts or reflections at home, families hail the youngsters who discover how to win and lose with grace, set and pursue goals, and nurture another living being.

These empty halters also represent the larger lesson of what it truly means to raise livestock for a purpose. Beyond ribbons and trophies, kids are learning the full scope of the food production process: the care, effort, and emotional investment that goes into raising an animal destined to become food for someone else. This understanding is vital. Without it, the money spent on showing livestock risks being reduced to an expensive beauty contest, disconnected from the agricultural roots it stems from.

As a former extension agent and 4-H educator, I’ve observed firsthand how some parents approach the topic of life and death in livestock projects. Many choose to sugar-coat these experiences for their children, perhaps out of a desire to shield them from the emotional weight of the process. 

While their intentions are undoubtedly good, this avoidance can lead to a disconnect between the realities of agriculture and the lessons that can be learned through it.

When children are not given the opportunity to fully engage with the life cycle, they may miss crucial lessons about responsibility, empathy, and the importance of food production. Encouraging open discussions about these topics can help children develop a more holistic view of agriculture, enabling them to appreciate the life skills gained through their projects while also confronting the inevitable realities of life and death. By fostering this understanding, we not only prepare youth for their roles in agriculture but also equip them to engage thoughtfully with the broader community.

This was my daughter’s third year showing livestock, and each year, a few of her animals leave on a packer truck — some head to a custom processor in town, and others are sold as breeding stock. But this year was different. For the first time, she loaded her own calf onto the truck — by choice. 

I hadn’t asked her to, but as I stood there with a heavy heart, she calmly walked her yellow calf into the trailer, said “thank you” and “goodbye,” while a few adult volunteers also shed tears. It was a proud moment as an 11-year-old girl embraced one of the toughest lessons of raising livestock: responsibility to the animal and the process it is a part of.

What made the experience even more meaningful was the knowledge she gained along the way. This year, alongside of feeding and raising her animals, she learned about primal and subprimal cuts of beef, taking the time to create a poster that outlined these cuts and the products derived from them. 

It was displayed for the general public to see, helping to educate others about the journey from farm to table. Understanding where food comes from is critical, and through this, she was able to help others make that connection.

Showing livestock exposes young people to the full circle of life. In a society where many avoid discussing or preparing for death, kids in agricultural programs are directly involved with raising animals they will eventually sell, often for meat. This hands-on experience naturally prompts them to confront the realities of life and death, something that many Americans, as studies suggest, tend to shy away from.

In recent years, the COVID-19 pandemic brought widespread panic and anxiety because it forced people to confront the reality of death on a scale that many had never experienced before. Following the pandemic, Caring.com reported in 2022 that 67 percent of adults don’t have any estate planning documents, showing a widespread lack of preparation for death, which contrasts with the early exposure to life cycles that agricultural kids experience. 

Meanwhile, a 2017 CBS News poll found that 54 percent of Americans avoid thinking about death, reflecting a broader cultural trend of discomfort with discussing mortality. Likewise, according to a 2023 Gallup Poll, only 33 percent of Americans have a will, with significant variations based on age, marital status, and socio-economic status.

By caring for an animal and then participating in its sale, kids learn that death is a part of the life cycle — an unavoidable aspect of agriculture and food production. Unlike the broader American tendency to avoid conversations around death, these young showmen are taught to understand it as a necessary, respectful process. This lesson helps them build emotional resilience, preparing them not just for farm life, but for handling challenges in other areas of their lives where perseverance is essential.

So, how then, do we communicate with a general public that is often so far removed from livestock production and often, conversations surrounding life and death? There’s a balance between education and sensitivity, keeping in mind the public’s diverse perspectives on life, death, and food production.

4-H and FFA members are in a unique position to showcase the educational value of these livestock projects. For instance, when my daughter worked on her poster demonstrating the primal and subprimal cuts of beef, she wasn’t just learning about the parts of an animal. She was learning responsibility, perseverance, and gaining respect for the food system. 

Sharing these experiences helps frame the message in a positive light, showing how youth programs teach important life skills while contributing to their communities.

It’s also essential to balance the conversation around livestock and death. While death is an inevitable part of the process, it’s not the entirety of the experience. Livestock projects involve hard work, dedication, and the bonds formed between the young people and their animals. By emphasizing the compassion and care involved, we can show that raising animals is as much about nurturing life as it is about understanding the food production cycle. My daughter’s ability to walk her calf onto the truck wasn’t just about saying goodbye; it was about understanding her responsibility as a caretaker.

Recognizing that the public holds different views on food production is crucial as well. Some may be unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the realities of raising animals for food, while others may have ethical concerns about livestock practices. It’s important to approach these conversations with respect and openness, acknowledging that while we value these experiences, others may see them differently. By sharing our personal stories thoughtfully and focusing on the emotional growth and life skills gained, we can invite understanding without being overly graphic or dismissive.

Leadership plays a crucial role in this process. As 4-Hers and FFA members, we are not only learning how to care for animals but also how to lead conversations around important agricultural topics. By taking the initiative to share our knowledge and experiences, we can advocate for responsible farming practices and encourage others to consider the implications of their food choices. 

Through these thoughtful approaches, we foster understanding and respect while educating the public on the significance of agriculture. By embodying the leadership skills we develop through our livestock projects, we can inspire a new generation to appreciate and engage with the agricultural community.

Finally, it’s important to highlight the bigger picture. The lessons learned through livestock projects go beyond the fairgrounds – they tie into broader discussions on food security, sustainability, and agriculture’s role in feeding our communities. 

By connecting our livestock experiences to these critical issues, we can help others understand the value of raising animals not just for individual benefit, but for the greater good of society.

Heidi Crnkovic, is the Associate Editor for AGDAILY. She is a New Mexico native with deep-seated roots in the Southwest and a passion for all things agriculture.