The Farmer Who Said the Colleges Were Failing Rural Washington
Addressing the state dairymen, farmer Wm. F. Izett argues that the land-grant colleges move too slowly and cost too much to save the farm — and pitches a cheaper, faster kind of agricultural school as the 'machine gun' the countryside needs.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Two years ago at Cheney I made the assertion that the colleges were inadequate for the task of training sons and daughters of farmers. I shall give but one reason. Their work is of necessity too slow and ponderous. Too much like an attempt to move big guns, such as we have in our coast defenses down around Port Townsend, out on the skirmish line in time of battle would be. Any petty officer could tell you that such action would result in the enemy's capturing the guns and attendants, unless they were protected by a good force of rapid-fire guns. And even after they were on the field it would puzzle the most talented West Pointer in the service to put them to any good use, unless the enemy were at close quarters; in that case the noise might prove effective.
Fellow agriculturists! The enemy is not only already upon us, but is crowding us rapidly to destruction, as evidenced by our rapidly decreasing power at the ballot box, the loss of fertility in our farms, the steadily decreasing proportion of our wealth (21.27 per cent as against 55.59 per cent a half century ago). The need of the hour is machine guns and plenty of them. Does it not look as if we had put the cart before the horse in mounting our coast defense guns, to continue the military figure of speech, when the enemy is already landed in our midst?
Statistics also show that my assertion about their being too slow is correct. According to the table of enrollment given in The Orange Judd Farmer for November 22d (which gives the attendance at thirty-eight institutions), those in agricultural courses number 6,619, or a little less than 25 per cent of the total, which is 26,601. In all fairness to the colleges I will state that the agricultural course made a gain of just about 25 per cent over the previous year. Yet even admitting that the whole number in attendance were taking the agricultural course, and shortening the attendance of each student to one year, then just doubling the enrollment every year, at least ten years' work would be required to give our farm young people now between the ages of 15 and 25 a chance; and what in the name of reason would become of the crop coming up during those years?
The theory advanced that the college graduates will be teachers of the future has been the hope of many thinking farmers, and in fact part of the plan of those statesmen who originated the system and were instrumental in supplying funds for maintenance; but, as many colleges report that the demand for capable men to manage farms for large land owners and stock raisers — at wages double, treble and even quadruple the salaries our school funds allow us to pay teachers — and as some other countries have a faculty for offering our best trained men large wages and getting their offers accepted too, this hope looks like a forlorn one, unless we train our young people to cultivate the faculty of observation, that they may learn by watching the operations and methods of the college-bred overseers; or perchance get a 'job' under them.
We farmers have been so regular in our habits, possibly because of the regularity with which seedtime and harvest come around, but more certainly owing to the fact that on the farm is the best place in the world to cultivate the highest virtues, we have apparently been oblivious to the erratic and rapid movement of affairs about us. We have permitted the educated minority to legislate for us and give us what they in their wisdom saw fit; and without questioning their honesty of purpose, we can say they have not always given us what was best, for the reason that their education had left them ignorant on many very important subjects.
We have in this state the lightest, most easily operated pattern, although our model is yet far from perfect. It is found in our law for the uniting of two or more districts for high school purposes. It is not sufficiently flexible for destructive work at short range, and is not the most effective, being too much of the old scatter-gun kind. A universal joint is needed in its mechanism. To speak plainly, we want an amendment that will assist any number of rural districts, conveniently located, to transport all pupils to a common point and also provide for teaching the fundamental principles of agriculture in all grades above the fourth.
But there is a kind which has been recently gotten up by Superintendent L. D. Harvey of Wisconsin. This machine is warranted to shoot the missile of 'definite knowledge for the agriculturist' more rapidly, more effectively, and more economically than anything else yet devised; its powers of penetration cannot yet be estimated and its construction is so perfect it should last for all time. 'The Dunn County School of Agriculture and Domestic Economy' is the first of this make on the market. All that this machine lacks is a practice range in the form of the most run-down farm in the county. I say worn-out farm because anyone who has a knowledge of the mechanical work of farming can raise good crops on first-class land, but to do that on foul and impoverished soil requires technical knowledge. And I find through some years of experience with men that you never know that a man knows how to do work until you see him do it.
As to cost, there is nothing else as cheap yet produced, regardless of quality. The building fully equipped comes within $28,000. Estimated running expense for the first year $6,000. The effectiveness can be estimated by the ease with which it can be brought within range of the enemy. The School Bulletin says: 'Students are admitted without entrance examination. In order to pursue the work of the regular course they should have a common school education, but the short course is intended for those who feel the need of that brief training, whether they have a common school education or not.'
This matter of entrance examination is one thing that lessens the effectiveness of the majority of the colleges. One which shows a total of 6,500 and only sixty-seven in the agricultural course requires for entrance English, algebra, plain geometry, government of the United States, physics, chemistry, advanced mathematics, or botany or zoology, and Latin or Greek, or further requirements in English or French or German. This is the hardest and shows fewest in the agricultural course, with one exception, and that also has a high barrier. And then one of the easiest, in a state located in the section called illiterate in the census report, requires preparation in English grammar, arithmetic, geography and United States history, and has enrolled in the agricultural course 500 out of a possible 650. To me there is something suggestive in these figures, as I know capable young men who have given up the idea of attending our own college because of these requirements for entrance.
John Gould has this to say on the subject: 'I am much interested in the new county school of agriculture...'
“Fellow agriculturists! The enemy is not only already upon us, but is crowding us rapidly to destruction, as evidenced by our rapidly decreasing power at the ballot box.”
A century later the same argument echoes: rural students still ask whether the state's universities were built for them, and whether vocational and agricultural training deserves public money on its own terms. Izett's complaint that farmers 'permitted the educated minority to legislate for us' is the ancestor of today's rural-urban political divide in Washington.
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