Posted: Thursday, October 12, 2023
Author: Cheryl Summer, Associate Broker
Welcome to the West! Maybe you have already been fortunate enough to purchase the ranch you have been dreaming of, or perhaps you are considering a move and searching for the perfect fit. You may already know that such an investment requires learning about water rights, mineral rights, river accretion and avulsion, carrying capacity, federal and state grazing leases, and more. But people don't often talk in-depth about the weave of the community fabric of the West and, specifically, how that may differ from more urban areas. I'll put a toe in the water here and hope to pull it back out, appendage intact.
When I first used the phrase 'social capital' about a decade ago, I thought I was pretty clever. I'm sure the internet would take issue with my claim to have coined the phrase, but it was new to me, and it perfectly encapsulated the rambling thoughts in my head and what I was trying to convey in dialogue as a ranch manager.
After using the term for a decade, I've just now looked it up for the first time and asked AI the question, "What is social capital?" The technology-generated answer does a good job of framing this conversation:
"Social capital refers to the value that exists in social networks and the norms of reciprocity and trustworthiness within them. It can be thought of as the resources that are available to individuals and groups through their relationships with others, such as access to information, social support, and opportunities for collaboration. In the context of rural America, social capital can be an important asset for community development and economic growth."
Cheekily, I've been called a Pollyanna, and I'm not sure that is such a bad thing. True to that characterization and the backstory of the pioneers, in the idyllic cowboy country of the Rocky Mountain West, you have the opportunity to be the best version of yourself. The West is a choice. The West is a frame of mind. If you're looking for an enriching experience in the West, it depends, quite frankly, on you.
I made the move about 22 years ago, and I was fascinated by the distinct differences in culture. It was a palpable shift that was like stepping into a memory for me. Growing up on a dairy farm in the upper Midwest, we were surrounded by that classic tight-knit farming community. We knew our neighbors, and we looked out for each other. Then progress reached a tipping point, and what were gradual changes became large-scale changes. It was sprawl, and it was the farm crisis of the 1980s. The cows left the farms, and in only a few years, that fresh from the oven, warm-bread-with-butter feeling of the community was lost. Arriving in Wyoming was like going home again. Wyoming was like turning the clock back 25 years.
I imagine that compared to the rest of the nation, Wyoming is still turning the clock back for most, but change is in the air. The world has shifted, and the entire nation is undergoing a new migration event on a scale that we haven't seen in 140 years. Much of corporate America has learned that it doesn't need to centralize its employees, and working 'remotely' can mean Wyoming-remote or Idaho-remote or Montana-remote. The rugged western states offer undeniably attractive qualities: scenic vistas, open spaces, abundant recreational opportunities, comparatively lower land values, and attractive tax structures. As for the people factor, the cowboy culture is authentic and thriving, and the community largely remains an interwoven identity to which 'we belong.'
Having already seen the slow erosion of my childhood farming community, I think I'm on the lookout for it to happen again. But rather than only being watchful, I want to take this moment to be intentional. In that, I'd offer that if you want to help preserve some of the aspects of the West that initially captivated you, such as its culture and community, all while enjoying your scenic view or private trout stream, you can actively contribute instead of simply consuming. How? The answer is to value and cultivate your social capital. Social capital may not have been valuable in your metroplex or large, suburban community, but I offer that it's a very real asset and an important one in our western rural communities.
How do you build or create social capital? First, accept and embrace that you both have neighbors, and you are a neighbor. Given the distances we travel, our ‘neighbors’ may live 50 miles away. Neighboring, as a verb, is conceptual and extends, perhaps, to the more prominent moments in life. Beyond the annual brandings that gather neighbors, I've seen neighbors gather to help clear debris after a windstorm blew through a ranch, irrigate for each other so a family can take a weekend away, or pick up parts 90 miles away because you share the same zip code and happen to be near the equipment dealer. Going back to the definition of social capital, it's reciprocity and trustworthiness, and it's the norm rather than the exception.
The strong, sinewy muscle of independence, evident in the history and folklore of the pioneers who forged their way into the Western frontier, remains an inherent part of the DNA of the West. Self-reliance and a can-do attitude are still valued traits, and that includes taking care of certain local needs. In contrast to the notion of indiscriminate and inefficient (i.e., wasteful) taxation, Western communities meet needs with targeted, local, grassroots donations. Many needs or projects that urban areas might fund through tax dollars are often self-funded by community members. Consequently, there are numerous opportunities to invest modest sums into projects that may often be considered publicly funded elsewhere.
In rural Western communities, your fire department, ambulance crew, and search and rescue are likely groups made up of altruistic volunteers. They train on their own time and may purchase their own equipment. They step away from their jobs and families to perform their duties and may even fundraise for the privilege of serving. There are many needs within these essential services. Rural schools often have tight budgets that preclude some specialized learning and extracurriculars. The teachers are your neighbors, continually pouring their lives into the children and their extracurricular activities and are likely fundraising to do so. Those examples just scratch the surface, and there are many opportunities to support in small ways: rodeos, 4H programs, fishing clubs, school trips, and senior assistance programs are just a few examples.
In addition to contributing financially, a little seasoned grace and understanding go a long way in building social capital. A pragmatic suggestion is to kindly understand that your contractors and service people are busy, especially in this booming time of the nation's migration and building. They may be responding to emergencies that aren't like anything you've experienced before. A pasture full of 300 cows and calves comes first if lightning takes the pump saver out and the cows don't have water. Like many places, not everyone will return your phone call, so take care of your relationships with the ones that do. A cold bottle of water, a baggie of your famous chocolate chip cookies, and a sincere 'thank you' are welcomed. Unlike metropolitan regions, the Yellow Pages listings for specialized services are not extensive. Burn one contractor, and they all will know. Pay your bills and treat them well, and that will spread as well.
Your ranch manager or property caretaker are great face-forward representatives of your ranch within the community, and they know the needs and opportunities to show your support. Empower them with a charitable budget or ask them to mention opportunities and needs that are important to them. Ask them to manage a hunt on your ranch for a young person or Wounded Warrior. Reward a student or say thank you to a veteran with a day of fishing on your trout stream. Offer a ride in your helicopter at a local raffle, raising funds for a school trip. Word of good deeds and local generosity spreads quietly and enrichens your social capital.
The Code of the West, as originally drafted in Zane Grey's era and more recent iterations, still has merit. Those 'homespun laws' were a high standard in the raw days of the frontier, and there remains a sense of them defining who we are as a culture. Social capital may be the contemporary supplement to the fundamental principles of the Code. When you buy land and property in the rural West and occupy space in a new community, your new neighbors will look forward to meeting you just to say hello solely because you're a neighbor. Admittedly, there may be the initial curiosity about you, just as I was the curiosity when I arrived some 22 years ago. After all, there's no camouflaging a U-Haul truck! But you can face it by sticking out your hand and saying, "I'm new. I don't know you yet." Be encouraged. The community is only richer for your participation.
Though I may choose to look at life like a Pollyanna, I'm not naive to say we're all friends. Somehow, the call to community and the action of neighboring trumps friendship. I've experienced moments of the best of the West, which were both big events and private moments. In a matter of just a few months, our local community of neighbors gathered to support two individuals who faced crushing medical bills. The first was a local outfitter who suffered an injury, and I got to help pack him out of the backcountry on a stretcher as a member of Search and Rescue. The second was a woman fighting cancer. For both, friends organized, neighbors baked, someone donated the beef, another donated the hog, and everyone came from miles around. Simply put, we did community together. Everyone contributed something according to their ability, and in the end, both events had raised roughly $100,000. I was amazed and proud, and full of admiration for these people. This modern-day grand show of doing life together and caring for other people astounded me. And all this in a ranching community where the town's sign says Population 249. Those were enormous efforts and big moments!
Similarly, small acts matter just as much. In a private moment, when I had to go home for a death in the family, as a show of support, my neighbors took care of my spring field work. Suddenly, I was experiencing the value of community from the receiving end. These are the moments of social capital at work. These are the moments that enrich our lives. The asset and value of relationships, social support, and collaboration are unspoken, unquantifiable, yet undeniable.
That's my experience. That's how I try to navigate my place in the West. I know of many who are champions of their community. They lead with "How can I help?" rather than "What do you want?". The West is what you make it, and it can bring out the best in people. To help preserve some of what attracted you and to contribute to this wonderful culture, remember to value and invest in social capital. That contributes to how our communities function and is part of what makes us tick. We'll chat in the grocery store checkout, we'll wave as we pass by on the road, and we'll cheer for the youngsters in their first rodeos. More importantly, though, we look at how we can help 'move the ball forward' within our communities. If you take the time to notice where you can make a difference in our community, whether big or small, then someday, we'll try to return the favor. Part Code of the West and part social capital, that's what makes the West go 'round.
