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Weeds by Randy Krzmarzick: Unaccustomed as he is…

There is a bright and glimmery poster on social media for the upcoming Sleepy Eye Chamber of Commerce Annual Meeting. Down a way, under the “All Things Sleepy Eye” banner and award winners to be honored is “GUEST SPEAKER: Randy Krzmarzick.”

Christina Andres is Chamber Secretary and a friend. We’ve worked together on some things. She asked if I would talk a few minutes at the meeting. She assured me I was one of several presenters. I figured I could wing it, talking about the centennial of Babe Ruth’s visit. Then I saw I was “GUEST SPEAKER.”

As someone who is generally terrified to stand up in front of a group of people and open my mouth, I’ve found myself doing just that quite a bit over the years. I’m not sure why. I’m a farmer and spend my day talking to myself, my dog, and occasional imaginary friends. Real people expect more acuity than my dog.

I’ve always been impressed and somewhat incredulous at people who can present information, ideas, or stories by spoken word. I dabble in written words and that is difficult enough. In writing, I can and do go back over and revise. I used to have an eraser; now I have a delete key. Both are invaluable; I’ve worn out several.

Good speakers have to “think on their feet.” Their brain must find the right word to follow the last, and make it seem effortless, like a word river flowing. We know about 40,000 words. (I looked it up; I didn’t count.) Finding the right one is no small feat. Then the words have to be organized and coherent. On top of stacking words, it’s also good to have a point you’re making.

I learned long ago I don’t have the skill to talk off the top of my head. A couple of vocal car crashes when I was younger proved that. Since then, I have a set of notes in front of me when I speak at something. Even with notes, I’m capable of many “ums” and panicky moments trying to figure out what my notes meant.

It’s not a natural thing, to speak continuously out loud. Conversation isn’t like that. You say something, someone else says something in response, then someone else has a different thought. If you listen, you might even learn. Conversation is a team game. Being a speaker is like trying to make a 40-foot putt with a gallery staring at you, holding their breath, hoping you don’t choke.

There are careers that involve speaking to audiences. Teachers have roomfuls of eyeballs staring up at them every day. Most of us would be frightened to death at that prospect. Teachers are heroic. Lawyers talk a lot. Juries are bound to hang on every word, hoping to make a right decision.

Politicians come to mind, too, when I think of people holding forth with spoken word. It’s interesting that so many politicians were lawyers before seeking office. Not a lot of politicians were teachers. I guess teachers have more important things to do.

Early in my farming career, I found myself running in alternative ag circles. I got asked to speak at the Lamberton Experiment Station about things I was trying on the farm. That led to other invitations to talk at other farm-type events. One of those was at a church by Owatonna to a group of sincere Lutherans. It was my Lake Wobegon moment. They fed me afterwards, so it couldn’t have been too bad.

Scott Sparlin tagged me to talk at a Minnesota River rally, and other river and environmental events followed from that. Sometimes, I filled the role of token farmer. It’s a burden to speak for agriculture since it’s such a broad and varied field. In those cases, I made clear that I was one voice speaking from one place at one time.

Classmate and buddy Steve Hansen was for a while director of the Minnesota River Joint Powers Board, a consortium of counties in the watershed that did some good work. Steve’s job wasn’t easy as he moved back and forth from the ag world to the environmental world. Thankfully, there are environmental farmers and farming environmentalists. That helped Steve walk that tightrope.

Looking back to then, our country wasn’t as divided about everything as we are now. We’ve gotten much better at not getting along. Still, there were hot button issues around farming practices, water quality, and regulations. Around 2000, Steve and his board came up with an event at Good Counsel in Mankato where involved groups would come together to search out areas of agreement. He asked if I could talk at that.

I prepared some thoughts on respecting each other and trying to understand where each was coming from. I shared ideas on real listening, deep listening. Somewhere in my talk, it took a turn toward a spiritual notion of honoring each other. We are all children of the same Creator, after all.

Around then, we were singing a hymn at St. Mary’s that tugged at me each time we sang it. “Will You Let Me Be Your Servant” was a simple song with an up and down melody. I’m not sure where this idea came from, but I decided we would end my talk by singing that together. It was maybe one of the stupidest and best Ideas I’ve had at the same time.

I had copies of the words for each table. Then I led the singing a cappella. I am most definitely not a singer. Even now, I wonder, “What was I thinking?” But it kind of, sort of worked. People joined in and music was for a few minutes a balm for all the challenging work we needed to do.

We are pilgrims on the journey,

We are travelers on the road,

We are here to help each other,

Walk the mile and bear the load.

Will you let me be your servant?

Let me be as Christ to you,

Pray that I may have the grace,

To let you be my servant too.

Christina, don’t worry. I promise not to sing next week.

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