10/04/2026
We do not have to accept the abuse. We can stand together.
“You’ve got to stand for something, or you’ll fall for anything. You’ve got to be your own man—not a puppet on a string.” (Aaron Tippin)
I thought about those words today, and I had to ask myself:
Why have dairy farmers gone along with the abuse for so long?
Why have we accepted prices that do not cover the cost of producing the milk?
Why have we allowed processors, cooperatives, lenders, and policymakers to make decisions that determine whether our farms live or die—while telling us we simply need to become more “efficient”?
Why have we watched our neighbors disappear, one farm at a time, and allowed it to be called progress?
I think part of the answer is that farmers are built to endure.
We get up when we are sick. We work when we are hurting. We keep going through droughts, floods, broken equipment, dead calves, low milk prices, and empty bank accounts. We have been taught that good farmers do not complain. They tighten their belts, work harder, and figure it out.
That strength is admirable—but it has also been used against us.
Our silence was mistaken for consent.
Our endurance was treated as permission.
Our independence was exploited to keep us divided.
We were told not to make trouble. We were told there was nothing we could do. We were told that losing thousands of family farms was simply “structural adjustment”—as if those farms were numbers on a spreadsheet instead of families, communities, and generations of work.
But accepting mistreatment does not make us strong.
Standing against it does.
We do not have to be puppets on a string, producing more milk whenever the system demands it, absorbing every new cost, and quietly accepting whatever remains on the milk check.
We can ask questions.
We can demand transparency.
We can organize.
We can tell our stories.
We can challenge the people and institutions that profit while producers are driven from the land.
And we can refuse to accept the lie that this is simply the natural order of things.
It is not too late.
As long as farmers are still willing to speak, consumers are still willing to listen, and people are still willing to stand beside one another, change remains possible.
Maybe we should have stood up sooner. But regret will not save the farms that remain.
Courage might.
We cannot undo every loss—but we can decide that the destruction will not continue without resistance.
We do not need permission to stand up for ourselves.
And we do not have to accept abuse simply because we have endured it for this long.
It is time to cut the strings.
BTW this is one of my t shirt designs. DeNora Goletz designed it.