Rural Joyce vs urban trolls

It’s amazing how time flies. My Mum just celebrated 89 wonderful years. That’s truly a great achievement, especially as she still lives independently, contributes generously and socialises avidly.

For me, a less awesome achievement, but still a small milestone, is writing this column for contribution number 55. How time has passed since that first nervous effort 2- years ago. What an enormous amount has been learned along the way.

It all started when I audaciously wrote to the editor of the Nelson Mail observing that our newspaper farming pages were mostly reprints which we had already read in rural magazines. I suggested it could be better and something fresh from a local contributor would be good.

I have learned that editors sometimes take ideas up in surprising ways. I accepted, with trepidation, the challenge of fortnightly columns and also accepted, with gratitude, wise and helpful advice from a friend experienced with written words. The first sentence began ‘‘Bet I’m not the only rural person who gets asked; ‘‘What do you do out there in the country?’’

My desire was then, and still is now, to give reflections, perspectives and reports on daily and seasonal activities and decisions from a normal farming wife/ mum. Much media news and opinion is biased and emotive and I feel farmers have sometimes become a target. Just as I don’t understand much about lives, challenges, issues and influences on folk living in towns, there’s undoubtedly often misconceptions in what other people perceive about country life.

We are all people with similar hopes, fears and feelings even if an urban/rural divide appears at times. So hopefully, by being open and brave in this regular column I can be seen as another human, not a ‘‘yea gidday’’ caricature or strawchewing stereotype. I have learnt that with the humble trowel of my allocated words it is not easy to fill big rifts, but I keep working on it with humour and honesty in my small way.

I was a techno-toddler, only learning that articles get printed on Stuff and not just on newspapers when the columns appeared on the website. What’s more, rather than responses via letters to the editor under a proper name, I now realise that anyone can post any stuff on Stuff. Random readers lurking behind titles like ‘Floppy Disc’, ‘zoot toot’ or ‘pupajim’ add 10 cents worth or more. Some of this is constructive, stimulating feedback but not all it contains edifying educational thoughts. After being judged to be ‘‘another whinging farmer’’ with ‘‘a chip on my shoulder’’ by anonymous authors I have learnt not to take it to heart and, even better, to leave it unread.

But I have also been constantly reminded how kind and encouraging so many people are. Thank you for all the compliments, pats on the back, and nice letters in the mail. I have learnt that sometimes I write things that others would like the opportunity to say or which reminds them of their lives on the farm.

When penning my reaction to the contradictory situation of a documentary maker using less than best practice to draw attention to a farm with less than best practice I have learnt that sometimes editors require a painful number of rewrites for opinion pieces.

Maths and science were my forte subjects at school and I tried to drop English. But I have learnt that maybe the valiant efforts of literature teachers did impart some skills in stringing sentences together. Plus I have my Mum to thank for her love of language and communication.

Finally, something else which I probably already knew, but becomes more apparent with a column due every two weeks. I have learnt that among juggling jobs at home and away, and farm and family routines just how fast 14 days flies past till the next deadline.

Joyce Wyllie is a sheep farmer at Kaihoka in Golden Bay.