Go to the County Fair — It Matters More Than You Think

I’ve been a lot of places. Done a lot of things. But there’s something about the county fair that always feels like coming home.

You can call me a nerd for that and I am okay with it. 4-H was such a big part of my life. It taught me lessons, introduced me to my passions, showed me how to lose with grace and how to win with humility. It also gave me a week every summer where I'd be, without a doubt — the Jefferson County Fair.

My first fair as a cloverbud

For me, it’s not just nostalgia. It’s personal. I grew up in 4-H showing livestock, baking pies, giving speeches, and eating bright blue snow cones on the hottest day in late July. But more than that, I grew up in barns, under bleachers, in the ring, and around people who showed me what community really looks like.

And I’m convinced the county fair still matters. Maybe now more than ever.

The county fair will always hold a special place in my heart. It is a culmination of a year's worth of work and even more years' worth of lessons on display for youth.

Because kids still need a place to be proud of hard work.

There aren’t many places left where kids are publicly recognized for putting in real effort over a long period of time. The fair is one of the few.

It’s not about viral moments or instant gratification. It’s about the slow, steady kind of work that teaches responsibility, patience, and pride. Waking up early to feed an animal before school. Spending weeks with dad in the garage perfecting a woodworking project. Redoing a clothing cost per wear sheet because you forgot to include the pantyhose. Spending weeks figuring out how to get a bread recipe to hold its shape at the right temperature.

The project I excelled the most in was the clothing buymanship project... it taught me a lot but if you ever need help dressing for an event, I'm your girl!

At the county fair, that kind of dedication gets a spotlight. Whether it’s a purple or red ribbon, a judge’s compliment, or just someone stopping to ask, “How’d you do that?”—it reminds kids that their work matters. That they did something worth being proud of.

And maybe most importantly, the fair gives them a safe, supportive space to stand tall in that pride. In a world where they’re constantly compared, scrolled past, or told to be more, do more, look different—the fair tells them: "This is enough. You did something meaningful. And we see you."

That’s a lesson they’ll carry far beyond the show ring.

My dad has always been my supporter: from my first fair to my last, to getting through finals weeks, to hunting for my first job.

Because the support we show them becomes fuel for their futures.

When you show up to the barn, the show ring, the concession stand, the arena, you’re doing more than just filling a seat. You’re telling a kid: "What you’re doing matters. We see your effort. We’re proud of who you’re becoming."

That kind of support builds something deep. Confidence. Community. Direction. It teaches young people that hard work is worth it; not just because of ribbons or trophies, but because someone cared enough to show up.

When I tell you that this calf here was the animal that kickstarted our family into agriculture and beef, I am not kidding. This is one of my older brothers, Jack. He is now an attorney who specialized in agriculture, natural resources, and helping people in small towns. I think 4-H at least had a little bit to do with that!

• The kid showing a goat might grow up to be a large animal vet.

• The girl who spent weeks sewing her project might start her own clothing brand.

• The quiet kid who took photos for the photography project might find their calling telling stories through a lens.

• The teen who takes orders in the concession stand might run a business one day — and remember the fair as the first place they learned to serve with a smile.

• And the kid whose steer didn’t place? He still learned how to shake hands, say thank you, walk out with his head high, and has found a new respect for beef. Those are life skills. He may just be a very fine cattleman one day.

• Or maybe there's a 4-Her like me. One who tries really hard and insists on doing things on her own, winning on her own and failing on her own. But through the people showing her that what she is doing is seen and important, she will find her calling to use her words powerfully and live in the service of others. That's a pretty cool one.

  
  

  

  My favorite project was the beef project. I spent my summers at the barn working with them! This was my final beef project steer named Walt.

You never know which moment will stick — or which kid needed someone to notice.

You don’t have to know their name. You just have to be there.

Because real learning doesn’t always happen in a classroom.

In the barns and exhibit halls, kids learn things they won’t get from textbooks:

• How to lose without pouting

• How to win without boasting

• How to work with people they may not agree with

• How to answer tough questions

• How to keep going when things go sideways

The fair teaches grit, grace, humility, and hustle. And those are life skills that don’t expire.

Talk about holding on when things get tough and you just can't seem to find tangible success, that was me in the horse project. I had a good horse and so much support, I just didn't have a show horse. It taught that when in doubt, ride it out, and that you don't have to win to be good and you definitely don't have to win to find success.

The Fair Still Holds Us Together

In a world that moves fast and forgets even faster, the county fair is one of the last long-standing traditions that still slows us down and brings us back to each other.

It’s a week where the small towns stay small, in the best way. Where you run into your ag teacher, your grandpa’s neighbor, your friend from high school, the woman who did your wedding florals, and the kid you used to babysit — all in the span of one lap around the fairgrounds.

It’s where nobody’s too busy to sit on a bright green bench and talk for a while. Where we clap for kids we don’t even know. Where generations mix: grandparents giving advice, parents handing out water bottles, little kids dreaming of their turn in the ring.

The fair is one of those rare things that still holds a whole community in one place, at one time, with one goal: to show up for each other.

It doesn’t get more genuine than that.

So I urge you to go to the fair. Take in the exhibits, talk to some of the kids with sticky hands from cherry snow cones and ask them what they are most proud of, watch the hog show and cheer for the exhibitors, have a pork burger at the concession stand, brave the heat and attend the parade, eat the free watermelon, attend the livestock auction and raise your bidder number a few times. Just go and show up for the kids and for your community, you may just learn something or will at least have a good laugh. Community takes everyone.

All my love,

Neva