Farmers are used to adversity. They watch as an entire crop is destroyed in a 10-minute storm. They grieve, powerless, as disease rips through their herd or flock. They watch market prices tank when global production is good. They pray for rain, for markets, for health and for safety. On a daily basis, they pray for an understanding of who they are and what they do.
I sit before you today on behalf of Canadian farmers in my capacity as the executive director of The Do More Agriculture Foundation. We are the national voice and champion for mental health in Canadian agriculture.
Last spring, just as avian influenza was moving across Canada, I sat down with a group of poultry producers in Nova Scotia. The focal point of our conversation was mental health and the challenges farmers are facing that lead to chronic stress, burnout and anxiety. A conversation that is usually robust was lilted. The producers sharing their table with me were more focused on the migratory birds outside the window than on our dialogue. They were living day and night with the fear that avian influenza would show up in their barns, introduced either by wild birds or through a break in biohazard security.
I didn't grow up in agriculture. I grew up in the city, and before moving to a farm, I never would have thought twice about walking into a barn full of animals. It never would have crossed my mind that walking into a biosecure barn housing 30,000 birds could result in introducing a disease like avian influenza that could see that entire flock dead within the week.
Producers across Canada are not expecting everyone to know the ins and outs of their operations or of animal husbandry, but they are asking for help. They are asking for protection and for understanding, and for Bill C-275 to be enacted to protect their animals, their families, their farms and their livelihoods. Agriculture is an industry with a foundation of deep rural roots, hard work, resilience, strength and community.
On a daily basis, farmers deal with numerous factors that are outside of their control and directly influence their mental well-being. Farmers should not have to add to that living with the fear of protesters trespassing into enclosed areas and endangering their animals, their livelihoods and Canadian food security.
Farmers are among the most vulnerable when it comes to mental health challenges like stress, anxiety, depression and burnout. In 2021, the University of Guelph found that one in four Canadian farmers felt like their life was not worth living, wished that they were dead or had thought about taking their own life in the last 12 months.
Sandi Brock and her husband raise sheep and run a grain farm outside of Hensall, Ontario, in a place that she feels is sort of like the middle of nowhere, yet Google has led strangers straight to her door. Sandi has been kind enough to share her story through me.
She writes:
I have long feared the forces of anti-agriculture (specifically livestock) that have made it their mission to end animal agriculture. In the same breath, I also respect where people are in regard to their core values.
In 2017, I decided to start a YouTube channel to “bring” people onto our farm, and into our lives as farmers on an Ontario family farm. Instead of expecting the general public to trust and understand what we do, I turn my camera on, almost daily, to bring them alongside us to witness it all....
I started this channel in the hopes of maybe not changing minds, but instead giving context behind the work we do each day. Not to educate, but maybe to cultivate empathy. As it turns out, millions of people have tuned in over the years and even some that don't agree with animal agriculture have reached out and offered up their genuine respect for us as farmers, and for us as a family.
But my comment section isn't always so nice, and there is always a gnawing in my gut that one day one of those negative commentors will show up at my front door. And trust me, it happens.
Thankfully, so far, the strangers that have found my address and shown up unannounced have been because they like me. Unfortunately for me, I do not know the difference. When these strangers have shown up, I have had an out-of-body experience like no other. I shake from head-to-toe for hours after they leave, and the intrusion stays with me for days after.
We live where we work. The vulnerability of strangers showing up unannounced is one thing, but the violation of privacy is a completely different level, and this is where I can firmly stand beside my fellow livestock farmers.
It feels like, and quite honestly is, a break-in. Businesses and homes are protected by the law. Our farms are quite literally our farms and homes, and in so, should be protected.
I started sharing my life online to help connect, provide context, and give the experience of a small family farm. Sharing did this, and more, and I'm so proud of the connections we've made. But after experiencing even the mildest forms of trespassing, and seeing and feeling firsthand how vulnerable we truly are as an industry I have seriously questioned if it was all worth it in the end.
Thank you.