Keeping Our Democracy Out of the Ditch

And thanking my subscribers for supporting my writing

Me a few months before my 4th birthday helping out on our farm in Anita, Iowa.

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After the election, when I knew Inauguration Day would be my last day at USDA as a member of the Biden Administration, I planned to take a couple of months to start writing a book. I’d spent almost 25 years in agriculture leadership, been farming nearly my entire life, and had almost become a Catholic priest. My husband Patrick and I had become parents when our sons, brothers and teenagers at the time, petitioned our county judge to make us their guardians. That was ten years ago and we continue to be the Coyote Run Farm family.

I have a lot to write about. I planned to focus on how we can lean into the best of who we are as a nation to lead the world into a hopeful and abundant future. I put those plans on hold as I started to write this newsletter instead. That hopeful and abundant future isn’t going to happen unless enough of us are totally engaged right now in defending our democracy. The book will have to wait.

Growing up, I hauled grain to town pulling two wagons behind the tractor. I have no memory of learning to drive a truck or a tractor. I do remember the first time I drove the truck on the road, because I drove it into the ditch.

It was March, and we were sowing oats. I would turn 9 in July. I was pulling the seeder wagon behind the four speed manual Ford truck with no power steering moving from my Grandpa’s farm to our farm. About a 7 mile drive.

I was following my dad, my grandpa, and our hired hand Steve. They were all pulling other implements with another truck and two tractors. I lost my concentration on driving while trying to shift gears. Fortunately, I got pulled out of the ditch and nothing was damaged but my ego. I also didn’t have the option of not finishing the drive.

I probably hauled my first load of grain to town when I was 13 or 14. I was probably closer to 16 when I hauled 2 wagons at once. That can be tricky. The back wagon can start to whip, especially going down a steep hill if you didn’t prepare by downshifting at the top.

Going into our hometown of Anita, there is a really steep hill. You knew someone hadn’t prepared when there was some grain slopped on both sides of the road. Yes, if the back wagon got to whipping hard enough, corn or beans would slosh out of the back wagon as it swerved evermore violently as the tractor and both wagons accelerated. At some point, the force is so much that you lose the whole load in the ditch. I don’t remember seeing anyone losing the whole load, but I heard stories.

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We are so perilously close right now to losing the whole load. Our democracy is on the line. That back wagon is sloshing grain on both sides of the road. We’re gaining speed.

It’s going to take the collective skills, energy, commitment, and willingness of all of us to keep our democracy and our great nation between the ditches.

My call since Inauguration Day has been to speak out. Writing gives me that opportunity. Substack provides the platform. Subscribers and all those who read Growing New Leaders: Perspectives from Coyote Run Farm create the audience.

Writing is also connected to three other actions occupying my time and energy. I’m trying to catch up on a lot of deferred maintenance at the farm. I’ve picked up a part time role with the Iowa Farmers Union as their interim Executive Director. I don’t write about that role because when I write in my newsletter, I’m not speaking for the Iowa Farmers Union.

The fourth focus is how to be as engaged as I possibly can in defending our democracy. There is only one train in the station. Republicans will not self-correct. Candidates, elected politicians, and other leaders in the Democratic party must be an important countervailing force to the damage Republicans are doing to our nation right now.

But most of all, the everyday Americans standing up right now are the difference between holding onto our democracy and losing it to ideological extremists. Volunteers and activists aligned with and trying to reshape the Democratic party are the difference. I’m committed to being wholeheartedly part of that difference.

Those on the radical right are willing to burn anything and everything down in order to take over our nation. They are willing to use authoritarian tactics including violence. They have entirely captured the Republican party.

Figuring out how I can do as much as I possibly can to take our nation back from the brink through the democratic process is my most pressing call to action. Figuring out how to build a progressive social movement within the Democratic party is critical.

The Democratic Party is the only train in the station that can save our nation. I’m not committed to the politics of reshaping the party because I’m a registered Democrat. I’m a Democrat and committed now more than ever because in a two party system with one party completely off the rails, Democrats are needed to step up and into this critical leadership.

After Trump took office again, I decided I couldn’t simply look for the next job to advance my career. I applied for a few. But I’ve settled for now with managing these four dynamics: farming, part time work helping an important organization grounded in values I share, figuring out almost on a daily basis how to be as politically engaged as I can to defend democracy and advance candidates for 2026, and writing regularly about what I see and hear.

Subscribers help grow this newsletter. Paid subscribers help defray the costs of being able to travel the state to speak and listen. Thank you to everyone who is regularly reading these commentaries and helping to share them through Substack and on other social platforms.

A special thank you to those who are paid subscribers. While I’m not a full time writer, your paid subscription helps me put gas in the car and carve out time to go where there is a story to tell.

I’m grateful that I have the opportunity to write where I’m in complete control of my editorial voice. I’m thankful to be part of a community of writers, readers, and citizens of the world who believe in a hopeful and abundant future.

Someday, I look forward to sharing more stories about farmers, ranchers, and rural communities. Telling stories about growing up with amazing public school teachers. Offering insights from my time teaching religion in a Catholic high school in Las Vegas, NV. Elevating rising leaders in agriculture and rural development. Advocating for smart public policy that helps us get to the promise of a hopeful and abundant future.

But for now, the readers of Growing New Leaders: Perspectives from Coyote Run Farm, especially the paid subscribers, are helping me stay focused on trying to keep the whole load from going into the ditch.

I’m a member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative. Please take a look at this amazing group of Iowans publishing their work on Substack who are keeping community-based local journalism and commentary alive. It’s an honor to be among this group.

The Iowa Writers Collaborative is throwing a shindig in Winterset on July 26. Paid subscribers of any of the members, including those paid subscribers of this newsletter—thank you for supporting my writing, are invited to attend at no cost. To register, click on this RSVP form.

Saturday, July 26

3 to 5 pm: private screening of "Storm Lake" documentary film at the Iowa Theater, free to IWC writers and all PAID subscribers, followed by Q&A with guest of honor Art Cullen, moderated by Julie Gammack. Free popcorn, paid concessions. (Non-paid subscribers and public members can attend for $20.)

5:30 to 7 pm: Robust appetizers with a cash bar will be served at The Winterset Livery (an event space once a horse livery, just off the square), which is open free to paid subscribers. Non-paid subscribers who paid to attend the movie are also welcome to attend the after-party.

Come! We have a terrific community and want you all to meet one another!