MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS: The landscape of mental health for American farmers

I’ve been thinking about Labor Day over the past few weeks. When I was a child, Labor Day represented the last summer holiday where we went to a local park with extended family. A multigenerational, continent-wide gathering of family folks my parents knew, but who were largely strangers to myself and my younger sister. With a potluck meal, including home-baked pies and watermelon as staples, we would eat until our little bellies were swollen with the good food from the prairie.

As I think about the history of Labor Day, I realize it has a strong connection to the labor movement of the late 1800s to the early 1900s. But that did not represent my reality, nor that of the community where I grew up in. My young life was rooted in the deep black soil of the Loess Hills at the intersection of Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska and South Dakota.

The geography of the Loess Hills was created by the receding glaciers of the last Ice Age. As the glaciers pulled back, they left a fine, wind-deposited soil. It is incredibly fertile land, forming some of the most productive agricultural land in the world. Only the Yellow River region in China has deeper loess deposits. It is highly arable soil with an extreme erosion risk. When it is dry, the soil stands in sheer vertical cliffs. But when wet, it behaves like sugar, easily dissolving. These conditions have produced specialized farming practices such as the building of labor-intensive terracing in order to prevent entire hillsides and crops from washing away.

While the “labor movement” was focused on industrialization of steel and iron, manufacturing and building of the railway system, for the laborers of the Midwest, it involved an entirely different existence. While there certainly were whole workforces involved in agricultural work, the conditions were very different, and the emotional and mental toil involved other types of strain and sacrifice. Agriculture in this regard occurred across the country, with different landscapes, crops and sociopolitical backdrops. But the conditions under which farmers labored were much the same across the land.

Over the years, I’ve had conversations with friends about the broad strokes of living the agricultural life. A friend who was a police officer was incredulous when we talked about receiving a “paycheck” once a year, and only if the conditions of that year afforded a profitable harvest. “I could never do it!” he announced with a look of horror on his face. My dad also raised beef cattle, as well as hogs, for a period of time. The success of making a living from raising livestock rose and fell with the whims of the stock market. At what price did you purchase, and at what price did you sell? Neither of which you had much control over.

Indeed, the life of farming, agriculture and livestock was and continues to be a high-risk, low-control enterprise, requiring high levels of faith in things unseen, especially for individual smaller-scale farmers. Industrial-scale farming had not yet taken over when my dad’s generation was working.

My own family was significantly affected by the cattle market crisis of the early 1980s. In what was then the most devastating economic catastrophe since the Great Depression, many farmers were forced out of business during this time. Dad was only a few payments away from paying off the debt he owed on his farming business he had started in the late 1940s when that crisis occurred. While he was fortunate to have the means to survive, he had to refinance his entire operation as a result. Discouraging. Demoralizing. Depressing. The loss of dreams held for decades.

While I was not a mental health professional when I was a child, I had some sort of super-sharp sensitivities to emotional shifts and changes, of which there were many in my house. I doubt that my home was all that different from the farm homes up and down the county roads where I lived. While I didn’t have language to articulate everything I sensed, my gut picked up the smallest micro-shifts of those around me.

While my dad (and other farmers) had their own emotional liabilities when it came to mental health, the living that had chosen them was especially cruel with little forgiveness when it came to making a living. My police friend asked in that same conversation, “Why would anyone choose to keep doing that?” Why indeed?

Farmers carry a suicide risk estimated to be two to three and a half times higher than the nationaaverage. There are some very clear reasons why, with specific barriers to getting help. There are increasingly sophisticated attempts at specialized support programs for this population. However, during my dad’s farming career, very little of those support programs existed.

Significant pressures on American farmers

In our economic system, there is a very high degree of uncertainty involved in farming. Implied here, capitalism has very few safety nets for farmers. Commodity markets are constantly fluctuating. There are high input costs with crop farming. Seed, fertilizer, machinery, tools, equipment costs, upkeep and maintenance often outweigh the end result at harvest time. In addition, for those on the “family farm,” and those are many, there is the constant threat and overwhelming fear and despair of losing generations of heritage, according to the American Farm Bureau Federation.

The present and future of farmers, their families and communities rely very heavily on factors that are unpredictable. A catastrophic weather event can wipe out years’ worth of work in a half an hour. A tornado could completely destroy one farmer’s crops and leave a neighbor’s completely unscathed. Or a dry run without rain at just the most vulnerable growth time for a crop destroys any hope of a year’s success. Livestock can come into contact with a disease, taking whole herds out at a time, according to the Rural Health Information Hub.

Working conditions are also a high-risk factor. Often involving long hours, exhausting working conditions (extreme heat, cold, wet, dry) and working alone in remote settings often lead to severe exhaustion, isolation and loneliness. Farm settings vary from one geographic location to another. Areas of the Dakotas, Wyoming and Montana can mean an individual farmer is hours away from the next neighbor, according to the Rural Health Information Hub. Even in more populated rural communities, the conditions can still render a farmer lonely and alone.

Barriers to getting help

The very culture of American farming can be its own worst enemy. The community puts a high value on self-reliance — farming is the ultimate of DIY projects, if you will. Stoicism in its most staunch variation creates a stigma against showing vulnerability. Admitting need, distress or uncertainty indicates a weakness that goes largely disregarded in the farming community, according to Mental Health America. I believe there is a strong fear that to listen to those who are suffering also threatens the listeners’ sense of immunity from such hardship of their own.  

There is also an extreme shortage of providers among rural communities. About 65% of rural U.S counties are without a single psychiatrist. 81% of these same communities also lack a licensed psychologist and 47 % do not have a single licensed clinical social worker. Where these professionals can be found, they may not necessarily understand the unique culture of  agricultural life or the realities of the uncertainties farmers face. There’s nothing worse than making yourself vulnerable to find that your provider does not understand the very pressures you face in just walking through the door.

Another concern is that it’s already hard to find privacy and confidentiality within small rural communities. A joke is that you better not think too loud or everyone in town will know what is happening in your life. Your checkbook, your intimate relationships and your bank account are already “community property.” The thought of seeking mental health care is often dismissed out of hand just by the thought of opening up to someone, according to the Rural Health Information Hub.

Available support resources

Things have significantly changed during my lifetime in this regard. There is a greater awareness of mental health in general. In particular, men’s mental health is taking on momentum in ways that was not predictable years ago.

At the crisis level, there is the Crisis Lifeline. If you or someone you know is in distress, call or text 988 or visit the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline website for free, confidential support that is available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. A nationwide service, this can also be less intimidating than meeting with someone face to face.

There are industry initiatives run through farming organizations. The American Farm Bureau Federation runs awareness campaigns to help connect regional workers with support and wellness tools. Community guidance such as the Rural Health Information Hub provides local, state and nonprofit programs designed to address the unique challenges of rural suicide prevention.

There are also programs designed and tailored to the unique economic, environmental and community pressures faced by local farmers. Extreme weather events such as intense droughts and unexpected floods can threaten any state’s unique intricacies of agricultural life. Specifically in South Carolina, there are a number of unique and dedicated supports for our state’s farmers.

The S.C. AgriWellness Program delivers free and confidential mental health services directly to South Carolina farmers, as well as agribusiness professionals and their families. This program is administered through First Sun EAP and offers crisis assistance, specifically three free counseling sessions. Professionals are specifically trained through Clemson University to understand and respond to the specific and unique needs of our state’s needs. There is a hotline (in addition to the 988 number shared earlier). Call 1-800-968-8143 and explicitly state that you are calling for the S.C. AgriWellness Program.

The Clemson Extension Agribusiness Team provides essential farm stress management education across the state. Using evidence-based resources, practices and webinars and in-person community workshops, they help farm families and communities identify signs of chronic stress and manage the heavy financial anxiety that accompanies the life of farming.

The AgSouth Farm Credit Network operates across both North and South Carolina. This program provides mental health and financial toolkits dedicated to the rural workers who struggle with high operational overhead, fluctuating loan rates and crop losses.

Signs to pay attention to      

Everyone can be on the lookout for signs of distress among neighbors, families and friends. Often, an initial sign can be seen in the farm environment first. Livestock may be neglected, the appearance of the farm may be in decline and there may be an increase in farm-related accidents. Memory issues, feeling rushed and extreme exhaustion can lead to unusual mistakes and errors, especially when working with heavy equipment.       

Behavior and emotional changes are indicators of distress. Social isolation, extreme irritability and a loss of interest in things previously enjoyed are all signs that all is not well. Listen for verbal cues of distress. Remarks that indicate hopelessness, pointlessness or giving up are messages and cries for help.

Physical and routine shifts are important signals. Loss of weight, unkempt clothing and a decline in personal hygiene are indicators of internal emotional pain. If you witness extreme or severe fatigue, such exhaustion is often a sign that someone may have lost perspective and has lost boundaries on the constant overextension of physical, mental and emotional resources.

Finally, substance abuse, or an increase in use, may indicate an increase in need for soothing from the stressors and strains of mental health troubles. This may involve alcohol, over-the-counter meds and prescription medications. It may also show up as behavioral addictions such as gambling, use of pornography, shopping and/or high levels of risk-taking such as neglecting safety measures and guidelines.

I know those Labor Day family reunions were double-edged swords for people like my dad. A year of hard work rewarded by high-yield crops with profitable markets meant that the holiday was a time to celebrate and rest from the hard work of farming. The years of crop failures, weather disasters or livestock illness presented doubts and shame about personal ability, worthiness and purpose. Labor rewarded is life-giving. Labor without is life-taking. Community is one of the most important measures we have to respond to these hardships.