Ag Media Summit stirs ethical discussion

By Elaine Shein

The Ag Media Summit has ended in Portland, Ore. and was called a great success. Number-wise, about 525 people attended the summit that has agricultural communicators from across the country.

However, numbers isn’t the only thing that reveals how successful a meeting can be for any organization.

Meetings such as this summit provide a valuable networking opportunity. There are also opportunities to develop skills, discuss the challenges and opportunities in the industry, and more importantly what are the standards that the agriculture publications should set and live up to if the media wishes to earn or retain the respect of readers.

The American Agricultural Editors Association has followed the leads of other organizations and has now adopted a code of ethics. While this is an effort that should be applauded, unfortunately there is no disciplinary action against any members who do not follow these ethical guidelines. And thus, that is what they remain: unenforceable guidelines rather than laws that govern an organization.

At the very least, the ethical code will stir yet once again within the industry a lively discussion of what is happening and why some media organizations, advertisers, and marketing agencies do certain things that might be seen as questionable in the eyes of customers.

This isn’t the first time such discussions have been held, nor will it be the last, but an excellent point was made at the Portland meeting.

Media executives, as well as someone from the advertising side, stressed how much integrity and respect means to an organization.

They stressed that if a newspaper or magazine has been around for 100 years, 75 years, or even a handful of years, there is a relationship of trust and integrity built with customers. The reputation of that publication is what attracts readers but also advertisers who know that readers put a lot of weight on what they read in those respectable publications.

So why throw away a hundred years of history, credibility, integrity and trust with one stupid decision, was the final conclusion of the panel at the meeting.

One short-sighted decision by a newspaper executive to allow a questionable advertising practice happen at the publication could mar all those years of credibility and hurt the long-term growth and viability of the publication.

Forget the generations who trusted that paper before: if a false cover, unidentified advertorial page, or some other unethical practice occurs and confuses, irritates or strongly upsets readers, it will take a long time (if ever) for the customers to ever trust again that source of information.

Agriculture

Heading for the summit

The Agriculture Media Summit kicks off this weekend in Portland, Ore. For the next few days several staff members from Capital Press will be attending the event to attend workshops that may help us do our jobs more effectively, talk with other people at agriculture media organizations and meet with some of the agriculture companies who want to get their message out to or through the ag media.

This will be my first time attending the event so I don't quite know what to expect. The good news for us is that the event is taking place fairly close to our home office. So we are going to be about to have several of our newsroom staff members there and I think some people from other departments will be attending as well. The bad news is that the days of the conference fall right on our heaviest production days of the week. So only one or two people may be able to go to the summit for more than one day.

The gathering is, as I understand it at this point, sort of a combination training workshop, convention and trade show for three organizations -- Livestock Publications Council, the American Agricultural Editors' Association and the American Business Media Agri Council.

Farmers and ranchers probably don't care a bit about the gathering. They are too busy to care about people from newspapers, magazines, websites and other media companies getting together. However, the gathering is for the people who produce media specifically for agriculture industries. The things that happen at that gathering, for good or ill, may affect what people see in their trade industry media in the future and how that message is delivered.

There are definitely some ag companies who think this is an important conference to attend. I can tell, because in recent weeks there has been a noticeable change in the mail coming to my desk. Since registering for the conference I've been getting mail from agribusiness firms who plan to have representatives there who can't wait for the opportunity to talk to agriculture journalists about their products or innovations. Some companies are making some of their high-ranking officials available for interviews during the conference. The reason? They want those reporters, writers and editors to do stories so their message gets into the hands of farmers and ranchers.

If you look at the list of sponsors for the AgMedia Summit, you'll notice something interesting as well. Competing agribusiness companies are allied in their support of this event. In most cases where sponsorships of events are involved, the event organizers offers some sort of exclusivity for people who are willing to help put money, goods or services in to cover the cost of the event and do the things that make events possible. For example, if you go to a big sporting event, you may see Budweiser signs, or Coors signs, or perhaps some other beer company sign. Whichever company is the official beer -- or hot dog, or car, or pickup, or whatever -- of the event almost always gets a monopoly. They get to fly their flag and sell their product exclusively on the grounds of an event for their product category. Ag event sponsorships usually work the same way. If John Deere signs on as a sponsor, Case IH or New Holland can't or won't. If Monsanto is in as a sponsor then Bayer, Syngenta and Pioneer are out. That is often at the sponsoring company's request or insistence. You want their money and help, then don't let their competitors have the same or better access or promotional space, or whatever. But for the AgMedia Summit you see some interesting sponsor banners "flying" together.

So, if you look closely at the ag industry trade publications and websites in the coming days, weeks and months, you could be seeing a fair amount of coverage that comes directly, or indirectly, from the things seen, said and done at the Agriculture Media Summit this coming week.

Look for an increase in Portland, Ore., datelines. That might be one big clue.

Agriculture
Agriculture Media Summit
Media

A sentinel of summer memories

By Elaine Shein

As the summer temperatures rise, and dry winds tickle the leaves and whisper through pine needles, an image floats back to my mind: my grandfather peacefully sitting in the shade of a backyard evergreen tree that loomed over the small house he called home.
Grandpa loved summers best. He’d shuffle across the lawn with his cane to his weather-battered rusted lawn chair, ease himself down and lean his cane on the arm of the chair or else against the tree.
“Oy,” he’d say, catch his breath, gaze at the large garden he weeded only a few days earlier but which already wrestled with eager thistle.
The front and back yards spanned more space than the house on the lot, but he didn’t complain. Instead he’d complain about his health, frigid winters, crime, my grandmother and anything else but the garden with its abundant crop of hardy vegetables that stored well for the winter.
With his straw hat on, he’d push an old mower whose blades had long lost their sharp edge, and patiently reverse over the same grass again to catch the stubborn ones that resisted the first cut.
In a part of the city known more for crime, poverty and abusive addictions, Grandpa each morning shuffled to the front yard, slowly bend to gather any abandoned beer bottles and fix any loose boards knocked from the fence by inebriated teenagers during the night.
“Oy, oy oy,” he’d sigh and shake his head.
The hours of exercise outside provided escape from the confines of the modest house on Avenue J South.
That tiny house was all he could really afford in ’69 after he sold a small farm almost 100 miles away that had more trees, rocks, ponds, geese and deer than good pasture for his small herd. The cropland often froze. It had been tough to raise a family of four young kids as a widower for several years after his wife had died of breast cancer before she even reached 40.
He didn’t remarry until almost the time to auction the farm and move to the city. By then the kids were gone.
They returned for the auction, gathered in a tight group far from the chanting auctioneer, smoked cigarettes and carried young children in arms. Neighbors fanned themselves, drank Fanta and Crush pop from a cooler than had been moved specially to a porch that day, and watched a ring of children chant “Ring around the Rosie, pockets full of Posie.” An outburst of giggles accompanied when they all FELL DOWN, and drowned out the rising bids and auctioneer’s declaration of “SOLD!”
The neighborhood in the city hadn’t been that bad in 1969 when my grandparents first moved there. A lot of eastern European ethnic groups similar to their own had settled in that part. Knowing little English, my grandpa walked or caught the bus to the businesses that often served him in his native language. The bank, the credit union, the meat shop, the liquor store, some restaurants, doctors and lawyers: usually each business had someone to help people like him who had immigrated decades before but had found English too difficult to master.
As time passed, fewer businesses had such employees. Life became tougher to comprehend and to survive for Grandpa, but relatives and neighbors helped with the taxes, the bills and the pile of mail on the hallway shelf that sometimes sat unread weeks until someone could translate.
In 1969, a young evergreen tree in the backyard had welcomed my grandparents to their new home. Only a few feet high, its sappy spine aimed straight to the sky like my grandfather’s posture. Right from the start, Grandpa loved that tree. He watered its roots in summer droughts, knocked snow off branches after winter blizzards, and gravitated towards its kind shade for special occasions.
Each summer, he gathered near the tree with family and friends as they came to visit with cards, cakes and Kentucky Fried Chicken.
The top of the cane was worn from bearing the weight of the proud but poor retired farmer who always dressed up in his best dress pants, ironed shirt and his hat when he had company.
Patiently sitting in the lawn chair, he listened as grandchildren babbled excitedly in English about school, weather, pets, friends, TV shows and anything else. With the few words he knew, he struggled to participate when a silent pause from the kids demanded response.
“For sure?” he asked, and raise a heavy white eyebrow. “Son of a gun. Son of a gun.”
Weather always interested him the most. “How the farm?” he’d ask with a heavy accent. “And the crops? The cows?” He’d smile and nod when he heard of bumper crops, but shook his head in sympathy when he heard that another frost, another hailstorm, another drought or downpour had ended a season’s work too early.
Years passed: Grandpa’s weight dropped, his pace slowed, his hair grew whiter, his eyesight dimmed and he bent over a bit more while the tree stretched beyond neighborhood rooftops and dwarfed the house.
An electric mower replaced the push mower. Grandchildren tackled the grass, picked the bottles and fixed the fence. The garden grew more weeds, and relatives casually wandered through the crooked rows, plucked the offenders and pretended to just gather berries and vegetables for supper.
Each afternoon until his early 90’s, Grandpa ventured to his favorite spot under the tree. He could no longer read and sometimes could barely see who visited him, but he closed his eyes and listened to the robin’s sweet song, planes overhead, thunder in the distance. He smiled when he heard the gate open in the front yard and recognized familiar voices of relatives and friends coming down the sidewalk along the side of the house towards the tree.
After more than nine decades of experiences, Grandpa shared what he marveled the most in life: how he and the tree were still around, and how long they enjoyed each other’s company on summer days.
The lawn chair is gone. Years have passed like the summer breeze through the branches. The tree remains a solemn sentinel whispering my grandfather’s memory.

Agriculture

Farm hand gets new duds

It was always easy to tell when my dad had someplace special to go. Most of the time he wore boots, cowboy boots, casual slacks or jeans, a button-down, short-sleeved shirt and a baseball-type cap. But if he had his Sunday-go-to-meetin' clothes on, he was heading to town for something big.

This week the Capital Press is trying on a new set of duds, with a redesign of the newspaper and a new logo on our website.

The flag, or logo of the Capital Press has changed a lot over the years. In fact, the name of the publication, and it's mission, has changed over the years too. With the newest flag, it marks at least the 12th change in the 78 years history of the publication, or an average of a new look about every 7 years. But the flag of the Capital Press was last changed in 1994, as our executive editor, Elaine Shein, explained in the newspaper last week.

Other than a few minor cosmetic changes, the overall appearance of the newspaper has remained largely the same since the mid to late 1990s as well. However, the technology used to produce the newspaper has changed dramatically during that period of time.

So, maybe we were overdue for a fresh coat of paint. Or, perhaps a new set of Sunday-go-to-meetin' threads.

Agriculture
Capital Press
Newspaper

St. Paul Rodeo: behind the scenes

(Left to right) Steve Coleman, left, and Dave Wilson at the St. Paul Rodeo board of directors meeting held June 23 go over some of the last details of what needs to be done to prepare for the upcoming rodeo.

By Elaine Shein

Sometimes, as a journalist, you feel you have a chance to be at the right place at the right time. You receive an invitation to see another side of the world that you don’t always get to see. People take the time to share their lives, their passions, or their worlds with you for a short time. It may be an hour, it might be a day, or it might be longer.

As a journalist if you get a chance, you eagerly take the time to watch, to ask, to listen, to perhaps learn something new.

Later, you want to do their story justice: you want to capture their personality, their experiences and their philosophy of life and tell their story to other people. While their story may have been told many times before by other journalists and media, a journalist always wonders … is there a new way to tell the story? Is there something special that can be told about these people who so openly share what is important to them?

A couple weeks ago, a farmer casually mentioned to me that he was on the board of directors for the local rodeo in St. Paul, Ore. He invited me to visit the rodeo — or talk to his fellow board members even before the event— if I felt it was worth a story in our newspaper.

When I decided to do so, the rodeo’s board of directors offered another invitation that is rare to journalists: attend one of their board meetings.

No, there would be no earth-shattering news. It would be on a Friday evening, and may go an hour or two at a time when most people probably just wanted to go home to their families. The meeting would be like many others held across the country by rodeo associations or other organizations: an event is being planned, last details are being worked out, and the next couple weeks would be hectic … and next year they will go through this all over again.

Before I even visited St. Paul, I wondered why do people become so involved in a rodeo? How does a small town in Oregon attract so many tens of thousands of people around July 4? How do people who farm, ranch or have other jobs find the time, energy and support they need to volunteer for such a huge event?

St. Paul, Ore. is not unique: every small town probably has such stories to share to the rest of the world.

However, what makes this story about volunteers in St. Paul special is this is their story of families, friendships and a fraternity of people with pride in their community, respect for their ancestors, a love for what they do, and a desire to entertain spectators and celebrate the courage, skills and luck of cowboys and animals alike.

Thanks to all the people in St. Paul, Ore. who took the time to share their story with me.

The following is their story that emerged

By Elaine Shein
Capital Press

ST. PAUL, Ore. — Not long after the board of directors’ meeting is scheduled to start in a former bank building in St. Paul, Ore., a truck rumbles to a stop outside.

With his worn ballcap, dusty jeans and t-shirt, heavy work boots and sunburned arms bearing witness that he has come straight from his farm to be here, Bill Smith enters the room and takes his position at the head of the long wooden table.

There is no need to apologize to the other directors, although some good-naturedly tease him about dressing up for the occasion. Six of the nine are farmers like him. They know this is a busy time.

As president, Smith has big boots to fill: his grandfather was the first president of the St. Paul rodeo.

The evening sun’s rays softly filter the room. About a decade’s worth of framed posters for the St. Paul Rodeo line the walls, mostly artwork of cowboys on bucking bulls or horses and the American flag. The St. Paul Rodeo Hall of Fame sign is in one corner above a doorway.

Papers and cellphones are placed on the table in front of the board members mostly wearing ballcaps and cowboy hats. Putting in long days in record-breaking heat, the men appreciate the cold beverages as they prepare for the rodeo only 10 days away.

The last board member to arrive is rancher Steve Coleman who drove 45 miles from haying time in Molalla: he eases himself into a chair at the opposite end of the table from Smith. Wearing his cowboy hat and familiar denim shirt, he soon joins the conversation as the men begin to present their reports.

The sun’s rays catch a fading mural on a building not far down the street that shows an image of a cowboy on a bucking horse, and welcomes people to the rodeo that has been associated with St. Paul for the last 71 years.

* * *

After the meeting ends, Smith drives his truck out to his peppermint fields being harvested.

In his third year as president of St. Paul Rodeo board of directors, Smith gives a lot of credit to others for the success of the rodeo: the generations of people who helped keep the rodeo going in the past; his board of directors; the hundreds of volunteers that help each year; employees and neighbors who help with the farms when board members are busy with rodeo business; and the family and spouses, such as his wife Cindy.

He reflects on the people who serve with him on the board. ““I couldn’t ask for a better board. We discuss what needs to be done. It’s a pleasure that everyone takes care of business.”

Smith considers himself fortunate to have good employees that have worked a long time for him, such as his farm foreman, Norbert Rodriquez, has been with him 20 years. This allows Smith to take time off to help with the rodeo.

But the main person he praises is his wife. “I take a lot of the glory, but my wife does a lot of the work. She does the grunt work, she writes the letters, puts the packages together, takes the phone calls, good or bad. She’s the nuts and bolts.”

His fellow board members, talking earlier about their involvement in the rodeo, also acknowledged how important their spouses, family and neighbors were to help them out, but they also praised Cindy.

“A lot of this would not be done without her,” said Wally Pohlschneider, the board member in charge of grounds.

“We’d be lost without Cindy organizing Bill and us with meetings and everything else,” said Dave Wilson, whose responsibilities include the Queen and Court as well as sponsors.

* * * *

The directors present their reports around the table.

The discussion includes what to do with the flag, giving a map of the rodeo grounds to the fire department, arranging for enough toilets and when tents will be set up. They talk about hay for the sheds, the success of the Queen and her Court at the Rose Parade, whether the chutes are ready, benches washed, and light bulbs ready to go.

Two-way radios are welcomed, security has been arranged. Trees will soon be placed in the arena. Plans for fireworks and liability of what to do with spectators are discussed. Cheerleaders, program sellers, cowboys: all are discussed regarding what role they play, when do they perform or how they will do their jobs. Signs still need to go up, parking arrangements made, and an update on dust control is given.

The board members highlight the help of members and volunteers. “The new members are really working good,” says Dick Buyserie, in charge of concessions and maintenance.

“There’s a lot of nonmembers working,” says Gary Pack, responsible for the Tack Room and gatemen.

Smith nods his approval. “We can’t do this by ourselves … people are stepping up.”

Media contact is reviewed, such as when the Queen and Court talk to Rotary clubs or appear on the radio to promote the rodeo, and they discuss how Portland buses are being used as moving advertisements.

“We’re on radio, we’re on TV, we’re on buses, we’re everywhere,” says Smith.

Coleman, the chute boss, gives his opinions on when to fly the sponsor flags and the national anthem sung. “And then we’ll buck some bulls.”

He adds that they should announce the cowboys, and should be close to the crowds when they walk to the chutes. “So people can see their faces,” explains Wilson.

The board appreciates the Newberg FFA members who will help keep kids safe who grab for candy during the parade; they agree to give a donation to that FFA club.

And then there are the older kids who try fake identification to get alcohol during the rodeo. “There’s some pretty good fake ID. Our staff should still ask for ID,” warns Pack.

“Ask them politely … tell them you don’t want them to jeopardize our license,” cautions secretary Kevin Smith.

Other aspects of the rodeo are reported. The art show, the carnival, the food stands. What should be done with intermissions to entertain people, and what should be charged for programs.

The meeting stretches on, from what needs to be done the next day to what happens after the meeting ends.

The rodeo ends July 4, but July 6 will still be hectic. On July 7, the arena is transformed into a high school football field, complete with turf.

“Two days after it ends, we go back to our real jobs,” Smith says.

* * *

Prior to the meeting, Pohlschneider sat in quiet, empty stands, explaining why he and others devote so much time to the rodeo.

“As board members, we wonder what we’re doing. But then we see the cowboys and families at the rodeo, and that’s the reward for us. It’s not financial, it costs us a bunch of money to be on the board. Time, money and fuel. But we’re not complaining about that.”

Smith said there’s more to it. “It’s satisfying when you’re sitting there in the arena, and the place is packed and the rodeo is going bang, bang, bang … and you can listen to them, you know if they are having a good time.”

* * *
All the board members show their respect for the real stars of the rodeo: the animals but also the cowboys who come each year, putting their lives at risk to earn a living and provide entertainment.

Back in his farmyard, Smith stresses the people involved with rodeos, including the contractors, make sure the animals are taken care of: they need to be in good shape, safe and sound.

Contractors take a lot of pride in their bucking stock.

“If you’re selected as having the best horse, that’s as big as you winning the world, or sometimes a close second. There are a gazillion good horses, but not so many exceptional horses. They’re like the Michael Jordan or Tiger Woods of rodeo. They make or break you,” explains Smith.

* * * *

A day after the meeting, Steve Coleman is at his ranch in Molalla, Ore. preparing to go back haying. He leans against a fence, and gazes at wild horses that graze the pasture and swish their tails for relief from heat and flies. The horses were brought in earlier from Growney Brothers, a livestock contractor from Red Bluff, Calif. In a couple of weeks, these peaceful horses would be bucking off cowboys in St. Paul.

Coleman first became involved with the rodeo almost 20 years ago as a board member; he recalls how much the purse was when he started, and how now it is one of the top rodeo purses in the country. “The spectators’ value has also grown,” he said.

He reflects on his years on the board. “There’s a new board of directors, new ideas and ambition.”

Coleman talks about being a dirt poor farm boy from a family of 10 kids that joined the rodeo circuit himself for several years, and how successful one of his sons now is, one of the top rodeo performers on the circuit.

Why does Coleman continue to help out the rodeo and shows hospitality to the cowboys who come?

He says the St. Paul Rodeo was always kind to him.

On his jeans, the silver engraved buckle he won in 1980 for the bareback riding event gleams brightly in the hot summer sun.



Links:
St. Paul Rodeo


St. Paul Rodeo
Agriculture
Rodeo

OSU baseball win: More inspirational than Barry Bonds

By Elaine Shein

When past president Dick Severson was interviewing possible candidates for the new executive director position of Oregon’s Agri-Business Council on June 9, he started each interview with the same question: The one that he said was the most important question of all.

“Which state’s college baseball team is in the final for the College World Series?” he asked. Obviously, this was on the top of the mind of the farmer from Springfield, Ore.

It was also obvious that everyone around the table, whether it was the hiring committee or the job candidates, knew Oregon State University Beavers were the contenders against North Carolina’s team. Even when the temperatures hit more than 100 degrees this week, the hottest topic remained the Beavers.

On June 26, showing the heart and determination they have shown throughout the playoffs since they lost their first game so harshly, OSU won the final game in the three-game series and became the best in the nation.

Considering the last time a northern team won the College World Series was 1966 – and Ohio was the northern team that won — makes this win even more remarkable. Forget Barry Bonds and his home run record this season. This is an even greater victory and means more to the players and their fans. This is what baseball should be about.

Even during one of the busiest times of the year, farmers and ranchers took time to talk about — if they didn’t have a chance to watch — baseball. Even if there was no local farm boy on the team, that didn’t stop them from cheering on what they felt was their team. Even some fans that normally cheer on their beloved Ducks were caught cheering for their rival university in the state.

What is it about baseball that draws fans? It’s not as fast as basketball, doesn’t have the hard tackles of football nor the body checks of hockey.

But baseball is considered as American as apple pie. It’s the whole experience, the memory of kids and adults perhaps playing in their first ball game themselves with an old wooden bat, a tattered ball or a stiff new glove not quite broken in.

Or perhaps they recall their first live game in some ballpark as they listened to chants of those attempting to sell them hotdogs and popcorn — and desperately yearning to see a ball land near them in the stands and maybe seek a later autograph by the player.

Baseball is more than just a sport. It’s a tradition for many whether they play themselves, watch their kids play or settle comfortably on their living room sofas with chips and beverages. It’s tradition to yell at the umpires or second-guess the pitching decisions made by coaches. It’s tradition to hear Take Me Out to the Ballgame.

Having a Corvallis-based team bring home the award for best college team in baseball makes the tradition even sweeter.

Hopefully this will inspire the next generation who eagerly try their new ball gloves and run out on dusty baseball diamonds even if today it’s a small town field somewhere in the Pacific Northwest.
Agriculture