"Proud to call myself a rural woman": 24-year-old CEO and farmer Marlee Langfield reflects on her role as a third generation farmer, active community member and rural advocate

Alex Brown December 17, 2019

By Alexandra Brown (Student Project Intern, Invisible Farmer Project, Museums Victoria) with Marlee Langfield (CEO and Farmer, Wallaringa, Cowra, NSW).

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This blog post is based on an interview that was conducted in 2018 between curator Catherine Forge (Museums Victoria) and broadacre farmer Marlee Langfield for the Invisible Farmer Project.

Industry: Broadacre Farming, Mixed Cropping, Grains

Location: Wallaringa, Cowra, New South Wales

Marlee Langfield out in the paddock at Wallaringa, NSW. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149601: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389761].

Marlee’s Story

“It runs in the blood, it really does. My father was a man of the land, whose courage, strength and determination was an inspiration to all – and I definitely hear a lot that I am my father’s daughter.”

Marlee Langfield lost her father to Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma when she was thirteen years old. Farmer Thomas Langfield was a fundamental role model for his daughter Marlee, who watched and actively helped her father work the land on their family farm “Wallaringa”, outside of Cowra, New South Wales, throughout her early years.

“I would help dad at every opportunity: spending time in the workshop, whizzing around on my little Honda XR 50 motorbike. So that was all great fun.”

Not only did Marlee’s father pass on his love of the land, but he also gave his daughter the gift of the land itself - in Thomas’ will, he left Wallaringa to Marlee. Perhaps uncommonly for a young woman, Marlee became set to inherit the very farm where she had grown up, on her twenty-third birthday, ten years down the track.

A young Marlee Langfield with her father, Thomas Langfield. Image supplied by Marlee Langfield.

Marlee Langfield with a photograph of her late father, Thomas Langfield. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149606: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389809].

Now twenty-four, Marlee is one of Australia’s youngest CEOs and farmers, having officially taken on Wallaringa last year. She has fond memories of her childhood as an active farmhand, involved in life both inside the home and outside on the land. Those years spent dashing around on her motorbike, delivering hot and cold meals her mother had made to her father out in the paddock, and actively working in the sheep yards and shearing shed have imparted Marlee with a resilience that has endured into her adult life, proving immensely useful in the often demanding business of farming:

“[There was] lots of freedom and exposure to practical knowledge. You are exposed to anything and everything that really a lot of children these days… unfortunately aren’t. So you are exposed to death, animals that pass away, tough times when it doesn’t rain and the effects, and the other end of the scale when it does rain and you get bogged and you have to go and pull machinery out of a great big mess.”

Marlee playing on one of the farm’s tractors. Image supplied by Marlee Langfield.

Marlee with her father, Thomas Langfield. Image supplied by Marlee Langfield.

Marlee is part of the third generation to farm Wallaringa after the family purchased the property in the 1930s, however the Langfields have been cultivating the land around Cowra for longer still, over five generations. Traces of their family heritage can be found in the treasure trove of carefully preserved snippets of history kept at the Wallaringa family home; newspaper clippings, well-worn handwritten recipes and old photographs make up a family trail of generations past. Even the road that leads to the farm is named ‘Langfield Road’, a testament to the legacy that ties the family to the local land.

Part of a family history scrapbook project compiled by Marlee, showing a newspaper cutting featuring previous generations of Langfields in the 1940s. Photograph: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

The sign for Langfield Road, which leads to Wallaringa Farm. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Despite this long lineage, Marlee found herself under no pressure from her family to inherit the farm if she decided to follow another path. Being so young at the time of her father’s death, Marlee’s cousin and his family cared for the farm until she came of age. During this interim, she had the opportunity to move with her mother and her sister’s family to Canada. She lived there for a year, and was able experience another education system and expand her farming knowledge by witnessing the differences in agriculture across the pacific:

“Being so close to the province of Saskatchewan and Alberta Prairies we were able to travel around there quite a bit and admire the farming landscape. It’s so different over there. It is very flat and very much broad acre. It was quite an opportunity to be able to be watching another country farm and see how their crops grow!”

Marlee out in the paddock at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149596, https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389689].

One of the paddocks out at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Having this time and space during her teenage years and into adulthood proved to be invaluable, as Marlee stresses that it allowed her to grow as both a farmer and an individual:

“I really appreciate the care my family took of the farm while I grew up, travelled, completed school and explored a lot that life had to offer inside and outside the farm gate… If that time period had of been less, I wouldn’t have been able to live life as much as I have, or have taken the opportunities that I’ve been able to take.”

Marlee Langfield. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Marlee at the wheel. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

So when Marlee’s twenty-third birthday came around in the April of 2018, the decision to take on the farm was hers alone to make. Fortunately, it was also a decision that came easily – Marlee’s love of the land and connection to Wallaringa which was nurtured in those early days meant it was clear to her that taking on the farm was the right choice to make:

“I don’t think there was a point that I knew. I think I always knew. My roots have always run deep within the soils of Wallaringa… Dad left behind a great legacy so at the very least Andrew [Marlee’s fiancé] and I wanted to give it a go continuing that legacy – and I feel privileged to have the chance.”

Marlee Langfield and her fiancé Andrew Gallagher with their dog out in the paddock at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149595: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389645].

Marlee’s fiancé Andrew Gallagher at work in the paddocks. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Marlee’s drive and passion spurred her to take an active role in equipping herself as best she could for this future managing the farm. Taking the road less travelled, she chose to study agriculture by distance instead of going to University. Studying in this way for the Certificate III in Agriculture followed by a Diploma of Management allowed her to spend more time on the farm acquiring valuable practical knowledge and skills that would best prepare her for the path that lay ahead. “I completed a Certificate III in Agriculture by distance through Access Group Training in Dubbo”, Marlee recalls, “Studying by distance was a great opportunity because it allowed me to contribute to my local communities: working at the local Silos during harvest, volunteering with community groups, all while learning and working on farm.”

Marlee at work in her home office, a space where she can manage the running of the farm as well as study by distance. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149593: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389631].

Now, as Wallaringa’s CEO, Marlee has hit the ground running. Her dedicated, can-do attitude is clear from the way that she applies her knowledge and work ethic to be directly involved in all aspects of running the farm. Having taken on the farm’s management and also pitching in with manual work, no two days are the same! Marlee is responsible for around 740 hectares of broadacre farm, producing quality grains including Wheat, Barley and Canola. On any given day, Marlee might be found balancing the farm’s accounts in her office, operating heavy agricultural equipment to sow or harvest crops, or even mixing agrochemicals to spray the paddocks – she takes each day as it comes:

“The day to day is always different. A lot of the time it starts off in the shed – you roll back the shed doors, open them up and have a look at what you’ve got on the agenda today. Lately we have been doing a lot of pre-harvest maintenance. We were cleaning out silos the other day for biosecurity purposes, so that was a very dirty but a very satisfying job at the end of it!”

Marlee finding parts in the shed at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Marlee and her farm dog. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Gender, Giving Back to the Community and the CWA

Marlee also recognises the significance of being a woman - a young woman at that - and taking on a senior role in this outwardly masculine field:

“In the 2016 census women represented 28% of farmers and farm managers -only 2.8% of women are in CEO positions. Balance is important, and I think the role of women in these positions is vital for the continued development of the industry in today’s modern world. I’m enjoying experiencing the challenges and rewards my role has delivered in this short period of time. Young people may only be 20% of the population but we are 100% the future!”

Marlee in the shed at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

With these aforementioned figures of gender imbalance in mind, it might be expected that Marlee, as a young woman taking on the management of a large farming enterprise like Wallaringa, would face criticism in one form or another. However, when asked how others have responded to her taking on the farm as a young female CEO, Marlee asserts that she has in fact been buoyed and supported by her local community. Encouragingly, her decision to carry on the Langfield legacy has been overwhelmingly recognised and respected. Not only has this support helped Marlee to establish herself as a farmer in her own right, but her connection with the community has also brought her closer to her own heritage, more specifically with regards to her father. Members of the community, when interacting with and supporting Marlee, have been able to share their memories of Thomas Langfield with his daughter:

“I think that connection is lovely, that these people from local businesses and my family are willing to share their stories of Dad with me, as I was quite young when Dad did pass away, I appreciate hearing the memories”.

A framed photograph of Thomas and Wendy Langfield on their wedding day, displayed in the Langfield home. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Furthermore, the support that the local community have given Marlee is by no means one-sided. Like many women across rural Australia, Marlee has learnt for herself that women are often the backbone of rural communities, and she herself has become part of this essential network. Marlee is actively involved in local life and is a member of numerous organisations, including the Red Cross, the local Agricultural Show Societies and the Morongla branch of the Country Women’s Association (CWA).

Marlee with her dog, at work in the paddock. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

This final organisation might come as a surprise to those with predetermined ideas about the CWA and its usual older demographic, and Marlee herself admits that she is the youngest member by far – which is by no means a negative! The local CWA are a constant support in the local community particularly when it comes to catering for events, however the perhaps slightly stereotypical cakes and slices are only a small fraction of what the CWA has to offer. The organisation serves as a social opportunity for its members to network, as a forum to discuss salient issues affecting the local area, and as a platform to share ideas, knowledge and thoughts with others. Guest speakers, both men and women, are also often invited to share their expertise or provide agricultural reports.

Marlee wearing a CWA apron in her family home. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

“The Morongla CWA is a wonderful, strong little group. We have a really good attendance every month… It is a very special place to go and to connect with these ladies. We meet at the Morongla Hall, which is just up the road and there is a lot of significance in the hall as well. Being the main meeting place within the community since 1918 it’s very special to be able to all congregate together and to discuss so many different issues - if only the walls could talk!”

For Marlee, the CWA has provided a way to learn from and connect with other generations of local rural women. Once again, Marlee’s family heritage comes into play as multiple generations of Langfield women have formed part of the Morongla CWA. A particularly pertinent example is Marlee’s grandmother Ivy Langfield, who was a founding member of the branch in 1951. A formidable cook, she competed in catering competitions at branch and state level, winning first place in “The Land” Cookery Competition from 1975-76 which earnt her a certificate that the family have held onto to this day. So by participating in the CWA specifically, Marlee is not only connecting with other local women, but also revitalising her connections to past generations of women in her own family. Some of these generations are distant, but others not so much – Marlee’s mother, Wendy Langfield is also a member of the CWA.

A first place CWA certificate for “The Land” Cookery Competition, won by Ivy Langfield, Marlee’s grandmother, in 1975-76. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Marlee and Wendy Langfield looking over a family photo album. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Wendy has been a mentor to her daughter as well as an unwavering source of support. She was a key figure for Marlee growing up, and played an important role in preparing her for the responsibility of taking on the management of Wallaringa. Marlee spent a lot of time watching and learning from her mother as she performed indoor work, like online banking and maintaining the accounts, which is just as vital as outdoor work when it comes to the smooth running of a farm:

“Mum’s been really helpful in regards to the paperwork side of things. Being able to sit with her and do the internet banking was a great way to learn rather than just trying to figure it out yourself. To know why to pay this bill or why to pay the tax man - to gain all of that fundamental knowledge from mum as a mentor, made it a much easier process when it came time to transition.”

Marlee and her mother, Wendy Langfield, reminiscing over family photos. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

With this in mind, the CWA is also a way for mother and daughter to bond and share their interests. Not to mention, Wendy has always encouraged Marlee to get involved in local life. Now, Marlee’s dedication to community involvement stems from her own conviction that communities are what make rural Australia what it is – in her own words: “Devote yourself to your community and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning… I believe it’s important to give back to our rural communities as they are the lifeblood of our regional areas.”

Marlee and Wendy Langfield reminiscing over a photograph of themselves from Marlee’s childhood. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

The Gap between Producer and Consumer

What’s more, Marlee’s community work extends to educating children about the realities of agricultural life. As a participant of the “Young Farming Champions” initiative, Marlee visits schools and speaks to the students about how farmers produce the food that they eat. Marlee’s efforts in this regard are helping to bridge the gap that frequently exists between consumers and the produce that sustains them. In doing so, she brings visibility to the women who work tirelessly in agriculture to bring that produce to the table, breaking the stereotype of the exclusively male farmer. Marlee is not the ‘Old McDonald’ of children’s nursery rhymes, but quite the opposite!

Marlee with the farm’s John Deere header used for harvesting crops at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149608: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389815].

Marlee showing the inside of a Canola pod. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149603: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389770].

“[We are able to] do it in a way that they [the children] can understand and can connect with me on a basic level as to what farming is, what a farmer does, what grain growing looks like, where the grain goes and how it gets to their plate. For them to be able to make that connection, all the way through the supply chain and for then me to be able to stand in front of them, a real-life example and a young woman at that too! I think it is very grounding for them as children and I do hope it’s easier for them to be able to see where the agricultural industry can take you and the many exciting things that are happening within the industry.”

Marlee with her dog out in the paddock. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

This spreading of awareness and informing consumers about the processes behind their food includes even wider audiences through Marlee’s hobby of rural landscape and macro photography, which she shares on her Instagram (@marleelangfieldphotography). Marlee showcases her agricultural lifestyle and what it takes to grow broadacre crops with her images of the day-to-day work at the farm, capturing everything from the machinery used out in the paddocks to the farm animals that live at Wallaringa. She also shines a spotlight on the crops themselves, showing consumers even the smallest close-up details of, say, a canola pod:

“I enjoy taking macro images of crops close up and also landscapes at the farm. Just to be able to show the consumer what a Canola pod might look like or what a wheat head looks like really close up. And these products are what comes to you in the form of bread and cooking oil. So that’s definitely one way that I help bridge gaps, by taking these photos that take your eye and to be able to showcase them on social media to just simply say this is what it is.”

Marlee with her camera and a selection of her photography. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149604: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389795].

Serving up Canola. “This image gives a real detailed look at the seeds in a canola pod and the process of them changing colour. The optimum windrowing stage for Canola is when there is 40-60% colour change in the pod -which this photo displays.” Photographer: Marlee Langfield, Instagram: @marleelangfieldphotography

Microsoft XP Screensaver. “This photograph bears an uncanny resemblance to the Microsoft XP screensaver. This image depicts some of the technologies and practices we have adopted on farm; the straight sowing lines are thanks to GPS, the canola stubble poking through the wheat are the results of direct drilling and the wheel tracks are developments to reduce compaction and build a controlled traffic system.” Photographer: Marlee Langfield, Instagram: @marleelangfieldphotography

Future Challenges

With that said, Marlee has found social media, and media in general, to be something of a double-edged sword. Farming is not an easy living, particularly when relatively unpredictable factors, such as drought, have the potential to devastate a hard-earned crop. In Marlee’s experience, the struggle of these circumstances can be exacerbated by misinformation broadcast across news channels and spread around social media. Sweeping statements concerning drought can be disheartening and understate the hard times that farmers go through in these situations:

“[The public could be] watching ‘Sunrise’ and they can officially declare the drought that morning and you think hang on a minute, it’s been happening for quite a while now! But they have just decided to shine the light on it and then maybe a month or 3 weeks down the track, they move onto something else…”

2019 Wallaringa Canola Harvest. “This is what drought looks like for us...baled canola. The landscape is not even worth capturing in colour because there is no colour left. It’s all “black and white”.” Photographer: Marlee Langfield, Instagram: @marleelangfieldphotography

For farmers, and thus for Marlee, drought is rarely a three week ordeal. It’s a reality of farming and means that tough choices with serious implications must be made – which crops to plant, when to make the order, how to provide enough water to have a successful yield, and so on. Marlee has had to learn quickly and has already made difficult decisions regarding crop management. Although drought has always been a part of the farming landscape in Cowra, it would seem that they are becoming longer, and drier:

“I do think that it [the environment] is changing and we need to be very aware of that. And to try to be proactive and to take care of the environment, because it is very precious and what we do to it now can’t or shouldn’t compromise future generations and their ability to be able to make a living from the landscape.”

Part of the Wallaringa property in 2018. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Marlee dusting down debris in the paddock. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149597: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389740].

The interview that this blog is based on was held over a year ago in 2018, and since then Marlee has provided a recent update regarding the effect of the drought on her crops. Her response demonstrates some of the harsh actualities of making a living from agriculture, and also the perseverance required to make it work. Fortunately, the decisions made by Marlee and her team have made a difference this year, but she is conscious of the fact that not everyone has been so lucky:

“Unfortunately for us and many others the drought has not let up for the 2019 season. Again, we began the sowing program planting dry and it’s been amazing to witness how the cereal crops have managed to make it to harvest on such little rain. Andrew and I made the decision to cut all our 2019 canola crop for hay. Of course, this was not the original plan. Normally we would harvest the canola for seed but due to the significant lack of rain on the spring forecast, the tough decision had to be made. We are very lucky to have a quality product ready to sell as you don’t have to travel very far to see failed crops in bone dry paddocks.”

The sun sets on Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

However, despite the trials that come along with it, Marlee has a real love of farming that has spurred her on through the tough times. The agricultural lifestyle has provided her with space aplenty and a freedom rarely found in other walks of life. The landscape, while at times harsh, is also an incredible gift:

“Just the freedom that you get with the landscape… To be able to go outside or go up the paddock and to look around and you can’t see anybody else – you’re not jam packed into Central Station, in the middle of Sydney. You have your own space, and a beautiful space it is at that.”

Marlee walking through one of Wallaringa’s paddocks. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM 149602, https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389766].

The flexibility of farming – listening and responding to the needs of the land and crops as each season progresses - has meant that Marlee can invest time and effort into her community work and volunteering, time that any other career might not allow for. What’s more, Marlee does not have to face the challenges of farming alone. Recently, she became engaged to her long-time partner Andrew, who has been alongside her for both the highs and lows, and who will continue to be an enduring source of support and strength through her farming journey:

“I feel incredibly lucky to work alongside my fiancé every day. Farming is a real team effort and I knew we wouldn’t have been able to accomplish all we have today without each other. We work great together – and always have.”

Marlee Langfield and Andrew Gallagher after their engagement in 2019. Photographer: Avalind Photography, https://www.avalindphotography.com.au/.

Andrew Gallagher and Marlee Langfield at Wallaringa. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

Overall, Marlee is optimistic and excited about the future of the Australian agricultural industry and those wanting to become involved in it. Giving advice to future young people, including women, who want to pursue farming, she points out that there is so much scope for innovation and change that must be pioneered by new generations:

“There’s so much potential for young people to go places. There are jobs that aren’t even created yet, that will be around in the next ten or twenty years that will be so new and exciting that no one will have ever done them before. [We need] to have young people that are keen and quite empowered for that change and to be able to discover what’s around the corner.”

Marlee at work in the paddock. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria [MM149600: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2389757].

Marlee examining Wallaringa’s wheat crop. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

As for Marlee, she has aspirations of growing her farming family in the future, whilst she continues to make a living on Wallaringa with her loved ones and give back to her local community. She is a shining example of a young, dedicated and driven woman in agriculture, who is proud to be just that.

“I’m proud to call myself a rural woman – a lady of the land! Although I might not be able to physically see it, I know I’m part of a tribe of strong women who are instrumental in the functioning of our rural communities. They are the glue that holds it all together. They go by all sorts of different titles that they use to identify themselves, and these can change maybe two, three, four or five times a day, a week or a lifetime! They are forever changing hats and always in motion. So here’s to them… may we know them, may we support them, and may we be them!”

Marlee Langfield. Photographer: Catherine Forge. Source: Museums Victoria.

A note from the author:

As part of the “Global Challenge” link that the University of Birmingham (UK) has with Museums Victoria (Melbourne, Australia), I was fortunate enough to spend 6 weeks working with the Collections team at Melbourne Museum. During this time I’ve worked with interviews from two farmers, Nan Bray of Tasmania and Marlee Langfield of New South Wales, to make them part of the Museum’s permanent collection. As an intern coming over from the UK, I have to admit that I didn’t have much of an idea about the realities of farming in Australia. I’ve very quickly learnt that farmers like Marlee work incredibly hard to provide food and other produce for our communities, but also how much something like drought tests their mettle. Each of these farming women have their own unique story to share and I’ve been very lucky to engage with them. I wish Marlee and her fiancé Andrew all the best as they move into the future and I want to thank Marlee for all of her help and insight in the writing of this blog. I’d also like to thank the Careers Network at the University of Birmingham and the team at Museums Victoria, particularly Catherine Forge, for this opportunity and the support that they have provided. Finally, I’d like to thank the farming communities, such as Marlee’s community in Central West NSW, for their hard work on the land.

Further Info:

This interview is now a permanent part of Museums Victoria’s collections, and you can view it online, here: https://collections.museumvictoria.com.au/items/2391633

Staying connected: Life on the land through photography

Catherine Forge August 21, 2019

By Benita Woodley

Benita Woodley, along with her three sisters, is part of the sixth generation to grow up on her family’s sheep, cattle and cropping property in Wongarbon, New South Wales. Aged 20, Benita is currently studying a Bachelor of Communication at the University of Newcastle, New South Wales, and is on a mission to share stories about farming and rural life with the wider world. Over the past two years Benita has been photographing her family at work on the land and publishing these photographs via her growing Instagram account, @_girlbehindthecamera_. In doing so, Benita aims not only to help educate non-farming and urban populations about the current drought in New South Wales, but also to showcase the important role that her mother and sisters - and women more generally - play on the land.

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‘She works hard. She never stops. She is determined. She is strong.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

This drought we’re suffering, she’s definitely not been easy – to talk about or sometimes to even think about. Regardless it never leaves my mind. I read an article somewhere that compared drought to cancer, how it sort of eats away at you. Seeing the drought unfold from Newcastle where I am studying has been hard. It has killed me not living at home – not being able to physically help and support my family. From the moment I wake up, to the moment I go to bed I’m constantly thinking about home and this damn drought. When I return home, I take every opportunity I can to document the drought and show what I think is really happening with many of our farmers.

‘Working with your best friend isn’t working.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

My name is Benita Woodley. I am 20 years old and I’m currently living in Newcastle, New South Wales, where I am studying a Bachelor of Communication at the University. I grew up on a three-thousand-acre family property just east of Dubbo near a village called Wongarbon. Along with my three sisters I am a part of the sixth generation to grow up in the region. My agricultural background is something I never want to lose touch with. I am a country girl and always will be. As the saying goes ‘you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl’. While my career aspirations don’t line up with Ag or rural industries, my photography allows me to keep a strong connection with the land. It also allows me to bring farming to people who have a limited knowledge of what agricultural life is really all about.

My childhood was spent outdoors exploring the wide-open spaces of our expansive backyard and its many beauties. We were constantly surrounded by lots of animals and a few humans and were always ready to get dusty on the back of the ute, on the bike or in the yards.

A childhood photograph of Benita with her three sisters on the family farm, New South Wales. Image: Supplied.

My father, a fifth-generation farmer, has lived in the region his whole life and he, like his father, grandfather and the generations before him, have farmed sheep, cattle and cropping all their lives. The land we work on has been in my family since 1887 when my great, great grandfather Henry and his wife Elizabeth, moved to the region from the Blayney area. Our family home was built by my great, great uncle Les and his wife Amy in around 1916. Prior to its construction my ancestors lived in a small mud hut not far from where our homestead now sits. My mother’s family also comes from an agricultural background. She grew up in a small village on the mid north coast of New South Wales called Eungai, where her father, my Pa, worked as a harvesting contractor and cattle farmer. Her family, the Rheinbergers, came from the Mudgee district where they too worked among rural communities and the agricultural industry since their arrival from Germany back in the 1850s.

Great great grandparents Elizabeth and Henry Woodley and their children. Image: Supplied.

Growing up, women were the lifeblood of our farm. As one of four girls, our home was constantly overrun by women and I often wonder how different our experiences as farm kids would have been if we’d had a brother. Six generations of women in agriculture exist in my family, although the opportunities that they have had to be involved in the physical labour of farming has differed over time. The women in my family are a real inspiration to me.

A childhood photograph of Benita with her three sisters on the family farm, New South Wales. Image: Supplied.

My mother plays a very important role on our farm. While she worked as a nurse in the years before she met my father, she always wanted and was destined to return to the land. She is more than just a ‘farmer’s wife’. She is a farmer with every role that comes with that. She taught us to believe that we could do and be whatever we put our minds to – no matter what it was. When I look back I realise what an incredible role model she was and still is for us girls. As you get older the relationship between mother and daughter changes and I see that now that she is more than just my mother, but is also someone I trust whole heartedly. She has become one of my best friends.

‘Mother. Wife. Farmer. Queen.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_ This particular image depicts Benita’s mother waiting and watching for stock along the road.

Laura, my eldest sister, works on the land along with both my parents, extending our long line of Woodley farmers to six generations within Australia. There is no doubt, my roots are dug deep in agricultural history and it’s something I will forever be proud of. There is not a moment of my childhood that isn’t etched with memories of the outdoors and wide-opens spaces. But with the memories of vast open spaces also comes memories of drought and of floods, of hardships we faced as a family. These things weren’t unusual and it became a common thing for our livestock to require hand feeding throughout much of the summer. Despite the hardships we sometimes faced, growing up on the land and experiencing everything that came with that was the best childhood we could have asked for. We were always apart of everything they did, constantly in the yards with them from a very young age. Being a country kid is something that I’ll claim forever, it’s something that I’m truly grateful for.

A childhood photograph of Benita with her three sisters on the family farm, New South Wales. Image: Supplied.

Despite this, I was never someone who took the greatest of interests in agriculture. I always loved helping out but as I got older I found myself drifting away. I held little enthusiasm to be a part of what my family did. My interests tended to lie in music, film, writing and photography. As a child, I was constantly listening to new music around the home and continually talking to the family about new films they hadn’t heard of or discussing film or music award shows happening around the world. We all knew from a very young age that I probably wouldn’t be a family member that stuck with agriculture. Recently, however, I find myself more connected than ever to the land.

My sister Laura always took a significant interest in agriculture and we always knew she’d be the one to become a farmer. She loved everything about the land and was always doing everything she could to be as involved as possible in what our parents did. She was made to be a farmer and when she was 17 she began to work full-time alongside both my parents.

‘My role model – Laura, my big sister. Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

As sisters, we are all so different, but in many ways, so similar. Laura as a farmer, Elsie as a teacher and Kate on a creative path to find her dream. As for me, I decided to pursue my own passion in a field where I could write and be a part of the creation of art and film. I began my degree in Communication at the University of Newcastle in 2017 and I’m hoping to become a film publicist and work in the advertising and promotion of films – probably not a career you would think of for a rural photographer. Yet, photography has always been a passion of mine. I have, for a long as I can remember loved the way photography and with that, film, has the ability to capture pure moments of emotion, depth and truth. Last year I was able to experience that for myself after purchasing a DSLR camera in January of 2018. I never expected it to have such a profound impact on me or for it to alter my future path.

Benita taking photographs on her family’s property in Wongarbon, New South Wales. Image: Supplied.

Out of an act to gain an understanding of my camera I began taking photos of our farm and the people that worked it. After taking these photographs I realised how they showed such a true depiction of agriculture and the people within the industry. Every time I came home I would go out and take as many photos as I possibly could. I enjoy every bit of being out there with my family seeing them do what they love and allowing myself to bring my own interest to the land. When I first bought my camera I never had the intention of creating the images I have. Photography was purely a simple interest that I wanted to pursue but what it has allowed me to do is reconnect with agriculture and the land, something that I feared I may have been losing.

‘Circle of Life – My sisters cleaning out feeding troughs for the rams. And one day closer to rain.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

‘Sun shining, dust kicking’, Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

The idea behind my Instagram account (@girlbehindthecamera) initially came from the love and respect I had for what my family does. It also revolved around the notion of female empowerment, like my sister Laura taking on an industry that is mostly male-dominated. I wanted to showcase an area of agriculture that is sometimes neglected. Working in a male-dominated industry as a woman isn’t always easy. The words or actions of others can cause you to lose a belief in yourself. It can be very hard to hear the words ‘so you’re still living at home?’ when in fact Laura, and others like her, are in the career that they love, doing the thing they’ve always wanted to do, and in the occupation they have chosen. I wanted to demonstrate this through my photography.

‘She was powerful’. Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_ This image depicts two of Benita’s sisters at work on the family farm.

While my photography started out as a way to empower women in agriculture and in many ways, still does, it soon became something much more than just that. It became a way to reflect on the drought, to bring the effects of the drought to a larger, urban audience, but ultimately it became my way of giving back to the land, of supporting my family and of trying to bridge an understanding between people throughout Australia.

For me the drought rolled in casually. She was tough this drought, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The drought was echoed by a sense of lost hope throughout rural communities. It had gone on for too long, in some areas years, and nothing seemed to be shifting. People were suffering, the land was suffering and for the first time in my life I felt sheer dread. While the drought was going on at home I was in Newcastle listening to the continuous fall of rain on the roof and I wishing to God that he would take the rain with him, way out west where they needed it most. I cannot begin to imagine the hardships that many of our farmers faced during this time, and for some, still continue to face.

‘Crops that aren’t growing, rain that’s not falling.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

Now winter 2019, many Australian farmers still find themselves in drought. In many areas throughout the country little has improved and for those who have seen a glimpse of rain, it hasn’t lasted, the last bit of green burning off before any plead for decent rainfall was answered by the heavens. For me living away from home in a time of drought has been extremely difficult. My grandfather, an 87-year-old fourth generation farmer, who in all his years of life on the land had never seen a drought like this, reinforced for me just how bad this drought has been and continues to be. There is nothing humanly possible that can be done to change the weather. For me the drought of 2018, which continues into 2019, is the first time that I truly felt homesick. In the back of my mind I was constantly aware that I wasn’t at the farm to help and support my family. So, I gave what I could, using what I knew - photography. I decided to direct my photographic efforts at the drought, to show what I believed was really happening with many of our farmers. When I am home I take every opportunity I can to document the drought.

‘Her walk is like a shot of whiskey, neat and strong and full of purpose, and so many underestimate her.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_This image depicts Benita’s sister Laura.

The drought was and still isn’t an easy topic of conversation, but through my photography I hope I can create an understanding. As we head back into what seems is going to be a similar winter to last year, I hope the media begins to once again talk about the hardships our farmers are facing yet again. My photography has become a way to show others what drought is and the impact it has on our land, and in a larger sense, the ripple on effects that it has on our people. Rural photography has quickly become one of the most important things I do and while I haven’t had much chance this year to be at home documenting the land, when I am home, my camera travels everywhere with me - whether it be feeding or moving stock, in the yards or while doing odd farm jobs. I capture the dry landscapes that our earth delivers. In sharing my photographs, I hope it allows people to see the effect of drought and maybe help change the way people think about farmers. I hope that what I have brought to the public through my camera has helped in some tiny way.

Benita Woodley taking photographs on her family’s property. Image: Supplied.

My photography has become a way to share images of the drought but I also hope it reflects Australian rural life. As much as the drought has become my main focus, at times I choose to steer away from that. There’s always little things in life that can simple bring a smile. I try to shine that through in my photography as well - a beautiful working dog, powerful women bringing their love and compassion to the land, the relationship between farming families and our beautiful backyard even at its most barrenness - there is beauty in it all.

‘Its almost time for smoko right?’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

When I had not long begun my photography, I stumbled upon a quote that read ‘If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph’. This struck me harder than I expected. I feared losing my connection to the land and, as I ventured off into the unknown world, I was concerned that one day I would grow less aware of those who grow the food that ends up on our tables at the end of each day. But what I have found instead is that photography allows me to be more connected then ever with the land. In many ways, it has reconnected me to my roots and made me realise that through my family and my love of photography I will never and was never going to lose my love of the land. So, I re-wrote that statement:

‘You photograph what you fear losing, so that once again it can become a part of who you are and who you were destined to be’ - @thegirlbehindthecamera

‘At the going down of the sun.’ Image and quote via Benita Woodley’s Instagram, @_girlbehindthecamera_

Want to know more?

Follow Benita's journeys via Instagram, @_thegirlbehindthecamera_

“Positive Change in Rural Industries”: 2018 AgriFutures Rural Woman's Award (SA) Alex Thomas reflects on empowering women and “planting a seed for safety”

Elizabeth Graham May 30, 2019

By Elizabeth Graham with Alex Thomas

Alex Thomas, winner of the 2018 South Australian AgriFutures Rural Woman of the Year Award, 2018. Image: Jackie Cooper, Jack of Hearts Studio

Elizabeth Graham is a student at Deakin University currently volunteering with the Invisible Farmer Project at Museums Victoria. In this guest blog post Elizabeth interviews 2018 winner of the South Australian AgriFutures Rural Women’s Award, Alex Thomas.

Alex Thomas grew up on Parnaroo Station, a pastoral property in the north-east of South Australia. She owns her own work health and safety consulting business and plans to use the AgriFutures Award to promote her ‘#PlantASeedForSafety’ campaign, spreading awareness on the importance of work health and safety in rural industries and celebrating the important role rural women play in influencing positive change.

In this Q & A Alex talks about the inspiration for her campaign, her connection with the land and agriculture, and the importance of recognising women within the industry.

***

Tell us about your connection to agriculture?

Growing up on a remote sheep station, some of my fondest memories are of lying under a Mallee tree - in the dirt - far enough away from the homestead that I couldn’t hear the sound of people, but close enough that Mum wasn’t having a coronary.

I was a School of the Air kid, and I did the majority of my early education from home via HF radio. Mum was my governess, my best friend was the cat and most days I’d 'knocked-off’ from school by around 1pm. Afternoons were for being Dad’s shadow, building cubbies out of stumps and corrugated iron and anything and everything to do with our horses.

Alex in her favourite spot (Porcupine Range, Parnaroo Station, SA. 2008). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

Those years on the Station were idyllic and I literally couldn’t have asked for a better childhood. We didn’t have mains power so obviously went without air conditioning, and time spent in front of the TV was strictly limited to days when it was too hot, too cold or there were too many snakes around to warrant playing outside. Trips in ‘to town’ were a novelty, the prospect of rain was an event, our neighbours were (still are!) our best friends, and at that point in time the only worries I had in life were whether the pet joey would survive the night, or whether I’d finish school in time to go out with Dad.

Alex (sitting next to her teacher, Ron Dare), with her School of the Air class (Port Augusta School of the Air, 1995). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

At 12 years old I was plucked from an incredibly comfortable sense of security and thrust into the world of an all-girls boarding school. Life in Adelaide was completely foreign, which isn’t surprising given how little time I’d spent away from the comfort of the Station. At 13, I remember returning home for an exeat [permission for a temporary absence] to learn that – to my horror – the Station was to be subdivided and sold, and at 15 to hear of my parent’s divorce.

The drought of ’82, the drought of the ‘90’s, spectacularly shitful wool prices and absurd interest rates had had a profound and irreparable impact on my everything - our family, my father’s health, the business, the landscape and of course our stock. I was becoming acutely aware that life on the Station was rapidly slipping from between my fingers and that things would never be the same again.

Year 11 and 12 exams were a haze of uncertainty and confusion, a means to an end before bolting back to the north-east to pursue a job as station hand… which in hindsight, was merely a desperate attempt to rediscover what it meant to ‘go home’. Returning to the north-east (albeit only for a couple of years) was the perfect antidote for a broken heart.

I chased rodeos, I drank rum and I literally fell in love with the cowboy next door. While that relationship wasn’t meant to be, that period in my life reaffirmed my identity, my connection with the land and an unconscious and unyielding desire to eventually ‘give back’.

Alex and her horse (Roxby Downs Pony Club. SA, 2010) Image supplied: Alex Thomas

The collective impact of drought, Q Fever (as a result of Dad’s work with feral goats), Ross River Virus, diabetes, divorce, heart failure and kidney failure rendered Dad permanently disabled from the age of 56. As the next woman in line after Mum left and his mother passed away, I’ve been caring for Dad in varying capacities since I was around 15 years old.

Sure, there have been some super tough times along the way, but for me – my connection to the land and to agriculture is in the blood. I don’t get to wear jeans and boots every day and I don’t have my Station to go home to, but I still remember how to strain up a fence, how to muster stock and how the land sings after even the tiniest trickle of rain. I’m eternally grateful for the sheer tenacity of my parents in providing my siblings and I with such a sublime start to life, and while Dad’s illness really, really sucks; its equipped me with an innate sense of purpose – to engage and empower rural women – and to improve the health and safety of those in rural industries.

How did you come to apply for the Rural Women’s Award?

I remember sitting in the Hilux with Dad – somewhere between Whyalla and Port Augusta – talking about the wild contrast between the culture of work health and safety in mining, versus that of rural industries. Given the decline of Dad’s health due to his work in agriculture, the impact it had had on my family and the need for a different approach (i.e. less emphasis on box ticking); we both agreed that while rural men spend the majority of their time up to their necks in grain and sheep shit, it was (is!) rural women who are the backbone of rural industries and therefore in a fabulous position to influence change. This prompted some excitable Googling before landing on what was then the Rural Industries Research and Development Corporation’s website in hot pursuit of applying for the 2015 Rural Women’s Award (and later the 2018 AgriFutures Rural Women’s Award).

Alex and her dad at her 30th birthday (2017). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

My initial project – given that I was then based in Port Lincoln, looking after Dad and working with various fisheries – was to travel to Norway to:

a) get some street credibility amongst fishers,

b) understand ‘what good safety looks like’ in the context of fishing,

c) cross-pollinate ideas between South Australia and Norway, and

d) facilitate a discussion with key stakeholders from the fishing industry (with emphasis on the inclusion of women in fishing).

I didn’t win the Award that year, however I was fortunate enough to be named a State Finalist and despite the outcome thought ‘bugger it’ – and travelled to Norway anyway.

“Bloody Big Boat in Norway” (The Fjords, near Ålesund, Norway, 2015). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

Claire Webber, a prominent woman in fishing. (Port Lincoln Marina. SA, 2014). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

Some years (blood, sweat and tears) later, a sociologist by the name of Dr Kate Brooks picked up my very anecdotal research report and offered me a contract to work for her, and in turn the Fisheries Research and Development Corporation. Through this work I learnt an enormous amount about the socio-ecologicial influencers of culture, and how these affect a fisher’s attitudes and beliefs towards work health and safety. I had always known there was a much, much bigger picture beyond what I’d been taught throughout my career in work health and safety, and thus emerged the #PlantASeedForSafety campaign and my second attempt at applying for the Rural Women’s Award!

Alex and Dr Kate Brooks in Carnarvon, WA, 2018. Image supplied: Alex Thomas

Do you know any of the past winners of the Award or is there someone in particular who inspired you to apply for the Award?

Whilst I’ve been very fortunate to have known many, many awe-inspiring rural women, I owe my inspiration to my Mum and Dad.

Mum for her tenacity, resilience and vivaciousness whilst wearing a million-and-one different ‘hats’ during our time on the Station; and Dad for his relentless strength, kindness and support, particularly enduring what has at times seemed like an unscrupulous amount of adversity.

Having won the 2018 AgriFutures Rural Women’s Award (SA), your goal is to establish the #PlantASeedForSafety campaign using the bursary from the Award. How do you envision implementing this campaign will begin to overcome some of the issues rural men and women face within the industry?

At the moment, most of the chatter about work health and safety in rural industries is dominated by the voice of the Regulator, and is largely focused on fatalities, penalties, paperwork and ‘compliance’. Unfortunately, this approach hasn’t achieved much in the way of actually reducing the number of people hurt, nor does it send a compelling message to those actually doing the work to change ‘the way things have always been done’.

By contrast, most of the time – in any business – things go right (!!!) and people don’t get hurt at work. For example farmers and fishers are innate engineers, which means they’re particularly good at designing out risk. In addition, farmers and fishers really, really care about their people; which often means they’ve got a greater sense of accountability for their wellbeing. Technology means that equipment is increasingly safer and people really are making good decisions about how to manage risk – they’re just not that great at talking about it! Or at sharing those invaluable, life-saving learnings with the broader industry.

I believe social media (being the effective communication tool that it is) provides rural industries with an opportunity to find its voice and to amplify the positive, rather than being disempowered by the negative. The success of the #PlantASeedForSafety campaign will be based on how much interaction and reach it attracts. Likes. Shares. Comments. Tagging other rural men and women in posts. More talk about industry specific solutions. Less about ‘box-ticking’. The opportunities are endless!

Aside from the social media project, what do you hope winning this Award will achieve?

In addition to the #PlantASeedForSafety social media campaign and by virtue of the Award, I have committed to the following objectives:

increasing the confidence and the self-esteem of rural women, particularly in ‘taking the lead’ and influencing positive change;
providing an online platform for rural women to support one another and to share ideas on what ‘good work health and safety’ looks like in the context of rural industries;
shifting the focus of work health and safety in rural industries away from disempowering, compliance-driven safety information and towards industry-driven, practical solutions (that actually have the capacity to save lives!);
supporting more rural women to take on leadership roles in rural industries, and ultimately;
preventing people from getting hurt at work in rural industries.

(Dream big, right?!)

Alex facilitating a workshop for Spencer Gulf & West Coast Prawn Fisherman’s Association. (Port Lincoln. SA. 2016). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

How will the physical program or safety tools work in conjunction with the social media campaign?

Given the current emphasis on producing safety paperwork in order to be ‘compliant’ (I mean let’s be honest, how often does a piece of paper ever prevent someone from getting stuck in a piece of machinery?!) – the focus of the resources I develop will be on empowering farmers and fishers with practical, common sense guidance on how to improve the way they manage life-threatening risks in their businesses.

For example:

Speed humps down a drive way: waaaaay more effective at slowing someone down than putting up a speed limit sign.
Putting a guard around an auger: far more likely to prevent someone from becoming entangled than giving someone once off pep talk on how to use it.
Putting a hard cover over a well: will almost certainly prevent someone from falling in it, and;
Fencing around a homestead will absolutely reduce the chance of children getting in the way of heavy machinery.

(It’s not rocket science is it?! )

The link between the resources and the social media campaign will come in the form of regular posts that communicate some of the key solutions to those who follow the campaign.

You focus on the physicality of changing and improving compliance with work health and safety regulations, about these being active processes rather than solely bureaucratic ones. Does your own experience working on a farm as well as your father’s injuries influence this?

Absolutely! In addition to Dad’s injuries, when I myself went to work on a station after finishing boarding school, I took short cuts. I rode motorbikes without a helmet on. I took guards off equipment ‘just to make life easier’ and I shimmied up and down windmills without using a harness. Was it dangerous? Yes. Am I human? Yes. Do I think now, that I could have done things better? Absolutely!!! Nobody ever wants another person to get hurt (or equally themselves), but an improvement in work health and safety in rural industries requires a change in the way we think about risk. Thirty years ago, nobody wore seatbelts … and today? We do it without even thinking about it. It all takes time… but if we focus on starting good conversations, supporting each other and fixing the big stuff (i.e. guards on augers) then I think we’re headed in the right direction.

What were the major motivating factors that inspired you to become involved in the industry?

It really depends on which industry you’re referring to!

My profession is in work health and safety, my roots are in pastoralism, my focus is on rural industries and my work spans across all of the above, plus many others.

I’ve often asked myself why it is that I’ve chosen possibly one of the hardest combinations of work possible (talking ‘safety’ to farmers and fishers can be like trying to sell ice to Eskimos!), and I think it comes down to three distinct factors:

Watching my Dad’s health deteriorate and the impact that it’s had on my family (and wanting to prevent like-scenarios);
A big piece of my heart is, and always will be, on the station (hence I want to remain connected to the industry), and;
I’m infatuated with improvement.

You have your own business that focuses on safety and sustainability, are you still involved in the farming industry in a more traditional sense or more as a consultant to improve work health and safety standards within the industry as a whole?

As I’m sure you can probably imagine, based on the current stigma around work health and safety in rural industries (i.e. penalties, paperwork and ‘box-ticking’), engaging a work health and safety consultant is not usually at the top of a farmer or a fisher’s list of priorities.

Alex with Greg Palmer, a prawn fisher, (On board the Millennium III. Port Lincoln (SA, 2014). Image supplied: Alex Thomas

With the exception of a few (wonderful) paid clients here and there, my involvement with rural industries is nearly all donated. I love working one-on-one with farmers and fishers, however I feel as though as a consultant I’m more able to add value on a larger scale by facilitating groups, presenting at industry forums and influencing at a strategic level. I am absolutely playing the long game here, which is why it’s fortunate that I have consulting work in other industries.

(I often spend my afternoons in front of my 17,125 screens with phone calls coming out my ears wishing I was still in working in ag in a more traditional sense, however I’m a firm believer that this is exactly where I am meant to be and what I’m meant to be doing!)

How important are connections with your local community and the wider world?

My connection with my former local, rural communities is such an enormous part of my identity that I simply wouldn’t – and couldn’t – be who I am, or set out to achieve what I want to achieve, without it.

It’s been over fifteen years since we sold the Station and even now I find it really challenging to know and feel ‘where home is’. Metropolitan life just doesn’t have the same sense of community that living in a rural area does, but I’m hoping a compromise, shifting to the Adelaide Hills, will be just the ticket!

Dad has always taught us to ‘never forget who you are and where you came from’ and I think my work with rural industries reflects that. That, in addition to the fact that my house is FULL of station-related paraphernalia and a somewhat unhealthy number of photos that feature horses…

Alex with her horse. Image: Amy Rowsell from Amy Rowsell Photography

You have a wide range of experience in diverse facets of the agriculture, do you feel that having this range of experience can be used to overcome the issues facing men and women in agriculture?

I think diversity – in any situation – is the single most important ingredient for combating a myriad of different issues. ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results’, right?! It may seem like a buzz phrase, but it’s a bloody important one! Diversity challenges our unconscious biases, our fixation on remaining comfortable and educates and influences us about how to evolve and be innovative. It’s challenging, but it’s incredibly rewarding.

How have you overcome the issues that working within such a male-dominated space creates?

It really depends on context.

I’ve had some fabulous experiences working alongside men, and yet like many women, I’ve had some very, very ordinary ones too. One experience in particular landed me in some seriously hot water, ‘victim of the boys club’ style. Key learnings from that magnificent catastrophe were a) never to work with a business whose values weren’t truly aligned with my own, and b) to always consider whether walking away or laughing something off is actually condoning poor behaviour, rather than preventing it. Early intervention is key. Sometimes as women we really do need to allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to speak up, and to allow people and process to support us… rather than trying to deal with it all on our own.

All of that said, I’m a much better, smarter operator now because of that experience, so I’m thankful. (They can’t allllll be good, now can they!)

How does being a woman play into the outcomes you hope to achieve and the desire for this project to be female-centric?

The number of work-related fatalities occurring in agriculture, fisheries and forestry is around eight times higher than any other industry Australia-wide, and 93% of those fatalities are men (Traumatic Injury Fatalities (TIF) Dataset – Safe Work Australia, 2016).

In my experience, the clear advantages rural women have in helping to lower these statistics include the following:

Rural women are often – literally – the closest other person to the work being done, and therefore are in the best position to initiate a conversation about work health and safety.
Rural women know their businesses, their partners and the workplace better than anyone else does, and are informed (or if not, are in a fabulous position to be informed!) on what could be improved, and how.
Rural women are often the ‘new kid on the block’ in family businesses; offering a set of eyes and some much-needed diversity, particularly to those who have been owned and operated by generations of men before them (and have been ‘doing it this way for years’).
Rural women often bring experience and knowledge from other industries and workplaces (that perhaps haven’t been ‘doing it this way for years’).
Rural women are instinctively more risk averse and therefore more inclined to highlight the dangers and seek to do things in a safer way.
Rural women are at times (not always!) less able to do physically demanding work, and therefore are more likely to suggest an alternative (safer, less physically demanding) method.
Rural women are innate carers and in my experience are more often inclined to consider work health and safety.
Rural women are often more vulnerable and more likely to be ‘left carrying the load’ should their partner be seriously injured or killed at work, which incentivises their involvement.
Rural women are often responsible for most of the administrative functions in a family business – which is not to suggest that work health and safety in its most effective form is administrative – but that rural women are more likely to have contemplated the notion of improving work health and safety (even if it is in the form of policy, procedures and paperwork).
Rural women are connected to the communities around them. They listen to what their neighbours are doing, the grower group’s position on work health and safety and how ‘Trevor shouldn’t be reaping in the heat’. They’re ‘in the know’ and they’re fabulous communicators, and therefore in a great position to start a conversation about work health and safety.
Rural women are resilient, brave and intuitive. They wear many hats and are the cornerstones of rural communities … they’re just amazing!

Is there any particular message you would like to pass on to other women within the agricultural industry?

1. Understand your power. YOU are the expert on your partner, your business, your community and your industry. Change is already happening. Be curious, connected and confident in your role to lead change.

2. Focus on fixing the big stuff! Don’t waste your time and money creating mountains of paperwork that doesn’t necessarily add any value. You know what it is that doesn’t feel right about the way the work is done, and I know you’re already well aware that some things could be done better… safer. Take action on things that might actually save a life.

3. #PlantASeedForSafety! Talk to your husband/partner/family about what needs to be done to save lives. Your workers. Your neighbour. Your kids. The tall poppy in the district. The industry association. Start a conversation that will eventually make it ‘not cool’ to be unsafe, or to take short cuts.

Thirty years ago, nobody wore seatbelts … and today? We do it without even thinking about it. Start a conversation about What’s working well, what’s not working well, and what could be done better … safer. #PlantASeedForSafety (And blokes? #SaveALifeListenToYourWife!)

Want to know more?

Check out the #PlantASeedForSafety and AgriFutures Rural Women’s Award websites
Engage with #PlantASeedForSafety on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and LinkedIn
Read more about the Invisible Farmer Project on Museum Victoria's Collections Online

The Best of Both Worlds, Mostly: Queer Women Farmers on Land and in Community

Catherine Forge May 14, 2019

By Jaclyn Wypler

Jaclyn Wypler (wypler@wisc.edu) is a PhD student in the departments of Sociology and Community & Environmental Sociology at the University of Wisconsin-Madison (United States), where she is currently researching LGBT+ farmers. Earlier in 2018 Jaclyn wrote a guest blog post for the Invisible Farmer Project where she reflected on the lives and experiences of queer American women farmers. In this follow-up blog post, Jaclyn shares her experience of travelling to Australia and spending six months in New South Wales and Victoria, where she interviewed queer women farmers about their experiences of farming and community life. She uncovers the stories of Ann-Marie, Carla, Em and Dianne, and profiles how these women have fulfilled their dreams to farm and build strong support systems in the process.

Jaclyn Wypler during a farm visit in Australia, image supplied.

Jaclyn Wypler wearing a 'Farmer' T-shirt during her travels in Australia, image supplied.

Under the shelter of trees during a rainstorm, Bella told me about her recent decision to leave farming in rural New South Wales. Bella felt isolated and lonely as “one of the only queers in the village” where 47% of voters deemed her love unworthy of marriage. “My bloodline is seriously agriculture and farming,” Bella said, “and obviously it’s tricky because I don’t have an audience out there that’s like-minded.” Whereas she previously lived among like-minded people in Sydney—earning a degree in agricultural sciences and running an organic food company—her days on the farm consisted of working alongside her father and declining dates from men, childhood friends thoroughly aware of her sexuality. “My passion is in farming. I absolutely love it. If I could move that farm to the Blue Mountains and be close to Sydney, I would love that. I’d have the best of both worlds,” she told me. Unable to relocate the farm though, Bella made the challenging decision to leave farming and move to an urban area to live alongside more like-minded people.

The farm life in rural NSW that Bella left behind image supplied by Bella.

As I spent six months interviewing farmers in New South Wales and Victoria and I wondered: is it possible for queer farmers to have the best of both worlds, to fulfil their farm dreams and have a like-minded community? If so, how do farmers establish strong social supports as farmers and as queer women?

In my research, I met several thriving farmers surrounded by supportive community. I visited Ann-Marie and Carla – goat farmers and cheese makers – who trained other women and earned the respect of farming families in their rural Victorian community. I spent a morning with Em at Joe’s Garden in Coburg, Victoria, who personally connected with neighbours and established a queer inclusive space on the farm. I spoke to Dianne – a cattle farmer in rural New South Wales – about transitioning in her 60s and creating a gender diverse support group. Though each farmer made it work, their efforts were intentional and involved some concessions. In a moment when it is vital to support those passionate about farming, I hope that the stories of Ann-Marie, Carla, Em, and Dianne provide blueprints for other LGBT+ people to enter and remain in agriculture.

Ann-Marie & Carla: Sutton Grange Organic Farm, makers of Holy Goat Cheese

As Ann-Marie and I drove to her farm near Castlemaine in Victoria, we compared Saturn Returns – an astrological period in your late 20s associated with pivotal life changes. Whereas I was in my Saturn Return, marked by living across the world for six months, Ann-Marie reported, “I became a lesbian.” She met Carla during this period, and the two began their journey as life and farm partners. Although they had been living in a tight-knit Western Australian lesbian community, they prioritised farming and moved to Victoria in 1999 to be near better soils. At the time, they perceived the area to be “hostile territory,” but were determined to make it work.

Ann-Marie and Carla with their goats at Holy Goat Farm, Castlemaine, 2014, image courtesy Holy Goat

Ann-Marie in Holy Goat cheeseroom, 2013, image courtesy Holy Goat.

Ann-Marie and Carla created a place for themselves in the community in three ways. First, they demonstrated their commitment to their neighbours by joining the Country Fire Authority. Second, they brought pride to the area by producing quality cheeses. When Ann-Marie and Carla won their first cheese award, the three longest time farmers in the area called to say that the couple was an asset to the community. “We are surrounded by bloke farmers and they think we’re okay,” Ann-Marie told me. Though respected by their immediate neighbours, they differ in farming practices; Ann-Marie and Carla therefore tend to socialise more with farmers who live further away but share their organic methods. Finally, Ann-Marie and Carla surrounded themselves with other women dedicated to agriculture. When I visited, I worked alongside a woman employee in her 20s and met two former employees—women—who each went on to launch farming businesses. Ann-Maria declared, “We are a real women’s farm and I think it’s brilliant.”

Ann-Marie working at Holy Goat Farm, Castlemaine, image taken by Jaclyn during her farm visit in 2018.

‘Staff meeting’ at Holy Goat Farm, Castlemaine, 2013, image courtesy Holy Goat

Em: an urban farming community at Joe's Market Garden

Located in Coburg (Melbourne), 2kms north of CERES Community Environment Park along the Merri Creek bike path, Joe's Market Garden is a two acre plot that has been farmed continuously by Chinese and Italian gardeners for over 150 years. Em is the resident farmer at Joe's, and she regularly runs tours, workshops and information sessions on the farm. I joined Em on a tour of the farm, where she began by detailing the land’s agricultural roots from Wurundjeri cultivators and trappers, to Chinese market gardeners in the 1800s, to the Italian family who bought land in 1945. This family mentored Em, teaching her not only how to farm, but also the importance of community.

Em on tour at Joe's Market Garden, photo taken by Jaclyn Wypler, 2018.

Joe's Market Garden, photo taken by Jaclyn Wypler, 2018.

Em knows the farm’s urban neighbours by name and invites them to farm events, such as “weed dating.” At this event, Em began by asking people to share their pronouns, explaining to the largely straight neighbours that stating pronouns is a way to signal safety and inclusion to queer and trans* people. “It was a good space to have that conversation because they’re open to me in a different way,” Em explained, “[I’m] not just that weird gay girl.” In situations like weed dating, Em does discuss queerness on the farm, yet she intentionally does not centre it every day. Rather, she chooses to make environmental sustainability the farm’s main focus. Nevertheless, Em estimated that many of the roughly 23 lesbians who live within a three-kilometre radius of the farm attend the Saturday market. “They’ve been drawn here,” Em told me by her queerness and the several other queer people who contribute labour to the farm. Though “very closeted” when she started working at Joe’s Garden, Em now proclaimed, “This is the queer farm of my dreams!”

Interview with Em courtesy Moreland Sessions: https://anotherwisequietroom.com.au/tag/emma-connors/

Dianne: farming 300 acres and supporting gender diversity

At the peak of her career, Dianne oversaw 3000 acres in rural New South Wales, earned all of her money from the farm, and mentored other farmers. Though worried about sounding conceited, Dianne eventually conceded, “I was a pretty darn good farmer.” Today, Dianne farms cattle, hay, and wheat on 300 acres. She lost much of her land to divorce; when she came out as a transwoman three years ago at 60, her then-wife left her.

Despite losing land and love, Dianne found acceptance in her local community. People at cattle sales greet her by name and when she attempted to resign from associations and boards—worried that others would quit because of her involvement—other members refused. “You can be you as long as you’re not in people’s faces,” she shared. In addition to ally support, Dianne created a gender diversity group that holds monthly dinners. Roughly 15 LGBT+ people travel upwards of 100 to 220km in order to attend. Though not optimistic about dating prospects in her community, Dianne is the happiest she’s ever been and remains committed to her land: “I’ll die on the place if I can.” Friends applauded her bravery, but she doesn’t think she’s brave; Dianne is finally just being herself.

Mostly the Best

Queer women farmers can achieve farming dreams and like-minded community, mostly, in their NSW and Victorian communities. Ann-Marie, Carla, Em, and Dianne all personally engaged and invested in their local communities, earning neighbors’ trust and respect. They also created safe spaces in their communities for like-minded people: women in agriculture, queer urban residents, and gender diverse people in the country. Though they have land and community, the farmers have made some concessions: living alongside neighbors with different environmental views, decentering queerness for the sake of a larger environmental mission, and foregoing dating prospects by remaining in a small community. Other LGBT+ may find guidance in these stories, pathways for them to farm and have supportive communities.

A final note: when I last spoke to Bella, she had returned to rural NSW to continue farming and to begin a business selling coffee from a renovated horse trailer. I wish Bella luck and hope she finds like-minded community through the coffee cart, achieving the best of both worlds.