Walking across the northeast corner of campus, one is generally struck by the stark contrast between the sidewalk scene in this area of campus and almost any other part of campus.

Occasionally, there’s a slight . funk . in the air. That would be the livestock pavilion.

Yes, that’s a tractor going down the street.

It’s “Lush Auditorium,” not “125 Kildee Hall” – quite possibly the only room on campus whose name has surpassed its number.

That big building? That’s Agronomy. If you don’t belong on this end of campus, don’t even try walking through it – most professors don’t even know how to get to or from some parts of it. Don’t even try to explain the room numbering.

The atmosphere in this part of campus is entirely different, and not just because of the cattle manure (which is quite possibly on the boots of the person walking in front of you).

This little corner of campus is the home of those plaid-shirted, hat-covered, cowboy-booted wonders: the ag kids.

Ag students are, by nature, just a little different from most of the rest of the student body.

For one, most of them call “home” a town smaller than Ames. This gives many of their student organizations something of the feel of a local establishment or 4-H meeting.

Although one of the smaller colleges in this university (only Design is smaller), Agriculture has one of the most impressive resumes in this university. Indeed, agriculture is and always has been one of the banner features of this university – founded in the middle of a cornfield 150 years ago, when Central Campus was grazed by a herd of sheep.

Ag kids are passionate about what they do. One day, either directly or indirectly, these students will feed the world, one acre at a time. Theirs is a noble though maligned profession, a profession upon which the rest of our various professions rely at their core. Without the future of their industry, all our futures look less bright.

Theirs is the profession that feeds us, clothes us and will someday fuel our cars and buses. Every aspect of our commercial economy is somehow tied to the agricultural field – cosmetics, Jell-O, beer, plastics, shoes – all these and more rely, at their core, on some commodity out of some field or pasture. Even the human element – labor to construct, build, assemble, manage, transport and market products – relies on agriculture: unfed workers do poor work.

The rise and fall of some of the greatest empires and economies in world history can be attributed, at least in part, to some sort of agricultural malfunction.

This isn’t to say that ag students are any more passionate, committed or adept at what they do than any other group, major or curriculum in this university. They just display it in a wholly different manner than most of the rest of us.

Ag folks wear their vocation on their sleeves. They proudly walk the sidewalks of the northeast side wearing hats proclaiming various seed companies, livestock farms and of course, their Cyclones. Their jeans have holes – and didn’t come from the store that way. Meanwhile, their wardrobe, though dominated by the plaid button-down shirt, may also consist of a Block & Bridle pullover or Ag Week T-shirt, among others.

Ag kids wear John Deere on their hat or T-shirt not just because it looks cool, but because their dad drives one – an expensive one, expensive enough to make any Lexus look like a tricycle.

While generally peaceful, friendly people, a lot of the ag folks get really upset when it comes to one particular issue: ignorance and under-appreciation of agriculture.

In an industry continually besieged by radical groups intent on prostituting science against mainstream agriculture, and whose main resource, land, is continually developed and paved over, such apparent defensiveness is a justified perception. To some extent it develops into a learned reflex over time. Just try arguing PETA’s cause to a Block & Bridle group. Dissing their cowboy boots is also a generally poor policy.

Perhaps most of the ag students – most country folks in general – can seem a little backward from time to time. Their work does the talking for them. The culture that surrounds rural agrarian life can teach us all more than a few things. There are things in this world of greater importance and yet less notoriety than fashion choices, Hollywood’s insignificant scandals or even national politics. At the core what we have left are basic truths, one of which is that mankind must be fed, and that the world will always require the hard labor and commitment of the men and women of the agricultural community to do the feeding.

– Ryan Frederick is a senior in management from Orient.