Photo from Rebekah Clark
Letter from the Editor-in-Chief
I am a proud rancher’s daughter, having grown up learning how to live within the duality of the Montana landscape: a calm, sprawling beauty with an air of untamable harshness. Within that duality, there is a struggle for survival as you work alongside the land, discovering how to listen to every nuance of nature. In thinking about this edition of the Bitterroot, I wanted to draw on that notion of what it means to persevere and survive within the Montana landscape.
Growing up in agriculture forges deep connections to the landscape and fosters a deep appreciation for each aspect of the land. It allows you to experience firsthand just how rewarding a lifestyle it is despite the difficulties it presents. There is a belief that you do not choose agriculture; rather, agriculture chooses you. This notion hits home for me, calling for me to follow in the footsteps of my family. Even as I forge ahead with my own agricultural aspirations, I remain aware of the many challenges the agricultural industry faces concerning our future.
Family farms and ranches not only find themselves engaged in a struggle to survive against the harshness of the landscape—such as drought or harsh winters—but also in an emotional struggle as they work to find ways to keep their operations alive. The USDA estimates that 70% of U.S. farmland will change hands in the next 20 years, but this struggle stems from the fact that many of these farms and ranches don’t have another generation to take over. In Montana, the number of young farmers and ranchers has slightly increased in recent years according to US Census data, but it hasn’t been enough to mitigate the concerns surrounding the future of many of these farms and ranches. In facing these challenges, Montana farmers and ranchers must rely on pure determination as well as on each other.
The agricultural community has always been one driven by pure grit, a value I have found myself blessed to grow up surrounded by. It is a value I directly associate with my father, the man who taught me what it means to survive and how to be a strong woman in agriculture. Grit is the embodiment of perseverance, a powerful notion that calls for the courage to weather the challenges life presents us. To me, it is a strong belief that despite the struggle for survival, the agricultural industry in Montana will remain as steady and strong as the defining characteristics of the landscape: the majestic rivers, rugged mountains, and open spaces.
Within this magazine, there are not only stories of grit within the agricultural community, but also within the many communities that exist within the Montana landscape. Grit is not inherently tied to one community; rather, it becomes a value that allows communities to understand one another. It creates connection. No matter where you look, you will find elements of survival and grit woven into the history of Montana communities, and even into the history of Montana itself.
We can see grit within the landscape, through the rivers that offer lifestyles or through the natural wonders that create and connect communities. There is grit within those who tend to the land and those who thrive by braving Montana’s formidable terrain. We can see grit within Native communities, as they persevere through generations of hardship and strive to keep their traditions alive. Our cities are built on gritty history and survive because of the determination that has been woven into their foundations. Through it all, we find one connecting thread: the thread of grit.
Grit is not simply a method of survival; grit is also a source of inspiration from which we can draw strength. At its core, it is what holds us together and creates communities. Grit is a sense of hope, allowing us to forge ahead in an ever-changing world.
-Rebekah Clark, Editor-in-Chief
Assistant Editor’s Note
When I first heard the news that I had been accepted as a member of the editorial staff for Bitterroot, I was ecstatic. The opportunity to help oversee the development and publishing of an actual, honest-to-goodness, physical magazine was one that I had never imagined I would have, and certainly not at 23.
After our initial applications, subsequent interviews, and eventual acceptance of our positions, Rebekah, Ty, Dr. Shirley, and I began our work for Bitterroot 2024 in early September. Looking back now, it seems so obvious that we would have picked “GRIT” as our theme for the 2024 edition. Our work and our lives necessitated it. Rebekah commuting each day from Harrison, navigating life as both a rancher and a student, Ty balancing his final semester with a historic Bobcat football season, Dr. Shirley welcoming a new member into her family, and my own bike accident that left me with ½ of the front teeth I had originally. Those were some hectic months, and yet we persevered. We showed our grit.
Once the theme of “GRIT” had been decided and finalized, the opportunities for Bitterroot seemed infinite. The story of Montana is a story of grit: a tale of trials and tribulations, hardship, struggle, adversity, but also triumph and perseverance, unwavering conviction and the stubbornness to see things through. We knew there would be no shortage of stories to tell regarding grit in Montana.
Having grown up in Bozeman, grit had always been out in the periphery. It was the haggard, old man bellied up to the counter at the Western Café, sipping coffee alone while I ate breakfast with my father. It was the rusted Ford trucks hauling horse trailers down the highway at 65 miles per hour. It was the bars of small-town Montana my grandfather would take me to, whose walls were decorated with mule deer mounts mangled by years of tobacco smoke. It is the farmer who refused to sell his land despite it being sandwiched between two new subdivisions, and the folks who stick around their hometowns long after the boom cycles of extractive enterprise have left the area.
However, beyond our communities and history, grit is also a physical property. It is the dirt between your toes that you find when you take off your boots after a long hike. It is the dust in your eyes kicked up from a bucking bull at the rodeo. It’s the “camp-spice” on the food that you dropped in the sand on the banks of a river and the silt under your fingernails.
To me, grit is synonymous with the history and environment of Montana. Yet, for all the ways I saw grit, I was still amazed by the depth and diversity of stories that our crew wanted to cover for this edition. Throughout the entire process, our team has showed incredible grit from day one, working together toward the ultimate goal of getting this thing financed, revised, designed, and ultimately printed into the incredible work you now hold in your hands.
I am honored to have been a part of this crew. I could not be more proud of what we have created this semester, and I am stoked to finally share it with all of you. So, without further ado, here is Bitterroot.