Unfinished Business

Leaving the door open to new possibilities.

Growing up on a farm in northwest Iowa in the 1960s, I knew I had three choices in life: teacher, nurse, or farm wife. I wasn't thrilled. However, I didn't see any other role models.

During my sophomore year, at the urging of my college roommate, I joined the staff of the campus newspaper. I discovered that my love of writing, reading, and researching fit hand-and-glove with a career in journalism.

One hitch: there was no journalism major at my private liberal arts college. And I still didn't know any woman who earned a living as a journalist. So, after graduating and teaching for a year in Nebraska, I applied to the University of Iowa journalism program, and was accepted. Before I could enroll, the University of Iowa lost accreditation due to its innovative program. That's how I landed at the renowned University of Missouri-Columbia J School.

I received my master’s degree in time to enter the job market at the same moment as a fresh crop of journalists inspired by Woodward and Bernstein. No matter--I wouldn't be just another general assignment reporter. I had a niche--I'd write about agriculture for nonfarm consumers. As it turned out, urban newspapers weren't very interested in a fulltime ag writer.

My first job as an editor was at Farm Wife News, a national farm women's magazine in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, launched a few years earlier by Iowa native Roy Reiman (and more recently, Iowa State University's Reiman Gardens' benefactor).

Three and a half years later, I received several oblique turn-downs from mainstream farm editors, and one remarkably blunt response: "You don't have the qualifications." I had grown up on an Iowa farm, earned a journalism degree from University of Missouri, and worked for a national women's farm magazine, but I didn't have "the right stuff." (Can you read between the lines?)

Nevertheless, not long afterwards I returned to Iowa to write for Successful Farming, the magazine that launched Meredith Corporation's publishing empire. I was hired as an assistant farm management editor--the first woman in its then 77-year-history who was not hired to write about recipes and crafts. I ate lunch daily at a table with 18 male members of the editorial and art staff.

In addition to business stories, I was asked to write a business-focused column directed at women. This led to helping a young Illinois woman establish credit in her own name and covering legislative efforts to recognize the economic contributions of women on farms related to estate taxes and property ownership.

By that time, our staff had been pulled into the vortex of the 1980s' farm crisis. I hit my stride writing about the underlying stress and behavioral health issues that had been taboo in farm publications. My focus on transition and estate planning created an opening for me to wade waist-deep into the family conflicts simmering beneath the surface of the bucolic facade of farm life.

Within a few years I also tackled occupational health hazards and safety issues, and addressed water quality and pesticide safety, as well as the continuing loss of competitive markets in agriculture.

I traveled the U.S. and was welcomed into the farm homes of wonderful families. I loved working at Meredith Corporation when it was an overgrown family business.  And, oh, yes, as it often happens in life, I did marry a farmer! In fact, I commuted 60 miles one-way to Des Moines daily, and after our children were born, I was a pioneer in today's "new" trend known as hybrid work.

A few years ago, after 36 years, I delivered a heartfelt farewell to the magazine staff, saying, "I don't expect to quit writing--it's like breathing to me. I know I have many meaningful stories left to tell...  ."

The intervening years have included freelance assignments, travel to Cuba and Poland, and tons of volunteerism in my rural community. Nothing quite filled the void of column-writing. As someone once said, "It's OK to look back; just don't stare."

I haven't stopped learning or growing. I still possess a keen interest and curiosity about the larger world: Current events, rural/urban issues, relationships and experiences, local and family history, women's challenges and opportunities, fulfilling dreams and aspirations--and more. I feel "unfinished."

I suspect I'm not the only one. That's why I'm calling this column Unfinished Business. You know, the portion of a business meeting when you address things that haven't been cleared away, the items--big and small-- left to deal with or work on. And that's a good thing because it often leaves the door open to future possibilities.

Oh, and one more thing, I love exploding rural stereotypes. Please join me to explore Unfinished Business.

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Delighted to be part of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative!

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