When I decided to take this internship, I felt a little out of place. I came in at a slightly different time in life than most other interns. Fresh off finishing grad school, most of my peers were jumping into new jobs with big titles and bigger salaries. Meanwhile, I had taken – gasp – an internship. I won’t lie I was worried and wondered if I should take whatever full-time position was hiring immediately.

I am so incredibly glad I didn’t. I am one of those rare women who admits when they’re wrong. It just doesn’t happen all that often!

This summer gave me a renewed sense of purpose. As someone who grew up on a dairy but whose family transitioned to beef cattle and other entities before I was old enough to soak in all the technical know-how, I’ve spent the last few months relearning, and sometimes learning for the first time, this fascinating, gritty, and precise world. I’ve read and written about things I once only half-understood, and now I catch myself explaining them to others like a nerd.

From the very first week, this internship wasn’t just in an office chair. I was in a car and out on farms. I was able to visit the Dells and wine country of Wisconsin, to row-crop filled Illinois, to pastures of Missouri. Later came Vermont – and my first “stranded in the airport” saga, which felt like a rite of passage. And no matter where I was, I learned something, and despite the different settings, always felt the passion.

I also picked up a healthy dose of Wisconsin culture. Turns out, cheese curds, Culvers, and the Milwaukee Brewers are that big of a deal. And Fort Atkinson’s Frostie Freeze? It was different than the one back home but grew on me quickly.

Beyond the places I visited and stories I helped tell, I didn’t only grow as a writer, I became a better reader. I’ve come to understand more than ever before that good writing doesn’t matter if no one reads it. So, thank you – for reading it. For caring about the stories of farmers and dairymen and women. For giving meaning to the work.

I built a network this summer that stretched far beyond anything I imagined, and now, I’ve got another home away from home to carry with me.

Eventually the team saw the sillier side of me (it doesn’t stay hidden long). I snuck in a few memes, cracked some jokes, and pulled some pranks.

Behind all the learning and laughs, I’ve realized some truths:

• When people care about you, treasure it.
• The best experiences don’t just teach you; they change you.
• If someone believes in your potential, rise to it.
• Some chapters are short, but their impact lasts a lifetime.
• Every risk is a chance to discover something new.

Thank you to the Hoard’s Dairyman team for welcoming me in, investing in me, and making me feel like I was a part of the “herd.” The friendships I’ve gained here are ones I hope to carry with me for life. It's been an absolute privilege to be here.

This isn’t a goodbye – I don’t believe in those – just see-ya-laters. I’m heading back to northeast Kentucky to serve farmers as a regional facilitator with Kentucky Beef Network and dive back into life on my family’s farm. I plan to keep writing, photographing, and telling the stories of farmers and ranchers through freelance work – and yes, I fully intend to keep contributing to Hoard’s Dairyman.

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Samantha Stamm is the 2025 Hoard’s Dairyman editorial intern. She co-owns and manages an Angus seedstock and commercial cow-calf operation with her family in northeast Kentucky. Stamm earned a master's degree in agricultural communications from Oklahoma State University and a bachelor's degree in agribusiness with a dual major in animal science from Morehead State University.