Heavens to Murgatroyd a lot of pent-up sociality got released at the annual meeting earlier this month! A coworker even complimented me on how enthusiastically I was engaging with members at registration. I was extra ‘on,’ and it was just great to see and be seen. Every day above ground, right?!?
Of course that was before the flurry of debrief sessions that start as soon as delegates and their entourages head home. Now notes have been compared, observations tallied, and the overwhelming consensus is that pert-near everyone — members and staff — was overjoyed to be back in-person for MFB’s 2021 Annual Meeting. I haven’t heard from a single party who didn’t feel thankful, grateful, fortunate and relieved to see everyone face-to-face again.
But “everyone” doesn’t mean everyone…
A bunch of folks took advantage of the virtual option, following proceedings online and voting remotely with their phones. It’s a blessing for anyone needing or wanting to stay home for any good reason: illness, ice storm, eight-hour drive from Ewen, pie in the oven, etc. I think that virtual/remote option ultimately helps unite our diverse (and dispersed!) membership by helping include voices from all over.
From another angle — everyone who participated in annual meeting — we’re even farther from the true everyone. Even if all 400 delegates brought a spouse and a couple rug rats, state-annual attendees would still comprise a slender minority of our 40,000+ statewide membership. These folks are the varsity choir — and we love a good choir — but the massive, hushed majority are too numerous and too potentially awesome to ignore.
Where’s Jeremy going with this? Stay with me.
One curious and promising phenomenon we saw during the pandemic was an unexpected involvement surge among previously uninvolved members — including a lot of first-timers who’d never dipped their toes or flexed their membership before. One likely explanation is the uptick in remote activity, largely because we didn’t have much choice.
I almost wrote that the remote stuff was “relatively easy,” but it was different for everyone. Two big components at play were our varying levels of comfort with technology and social interaction.
The tech side is mostly cut ‘n’ dried. Most climbed the learning curve pretty quickly, but others had a tougher time of it. Joke all you want about dad’s flip phone, but also remember plenty of folks don’t do cell phones or computers at all. For those on the other end of that spectrum, remote involvement was like falling off a log.
On the social side, most already-involved members skew toward the extroverted end of the social/outgoingness scale — or at least are comfortable enough that they can function just fine in our very social organization.
Early in the pandemic lockdown, introverts saw their stock skyrocket, like we were so built for confinement and isolation that we’d somehow blossom and finally have our big glow-up. In the end I like to think we learned we’re all really just mutts — mixed-breed mongrels made of X% introvert, Y% extrovert and Z% grey area.
My theory is it was the tech-comfy introverts who came out of the woodwork, logging on and taking part in a Farm Bureau organization that suddenly was “meeting them where they’re at.” If so, here’s hoping the older-school, always-done-it-this-way crowd will stick with whatever blend of in-person, remote and hybrid activities they can keep in play.
Because at the end of the day, involved is involved and newcomers should be embraced and engaged from here on out. Every last one of us — everyone everyone — we’re all still processing the lessons COVID forced on us. Some of them are good lessons!
We can all use that new understanding to improve Farm Bureau. Let it make us all stronger, more inclusive and more involved. Remote or in-person matters less than that we’re all truly together, united.