Some of us grow up thinking our roots are where we’re from, but more often, they’re grounded in the people who shaped us. For me, that place is Foxport, a quiet dot on the map in Fleming County, Kentucky. It isn’t the place alone that defines me, it’s the people who live there. The ones who rolled up their sleeves, gave generously of their time, and showed me how to lead with humility and heart.
I had the kind of childhood people write about in stories. Mornings were for feeding cattle, afternoons for bike rides and picnics. Some days, I made mud pies or stretched out on a quilt in the shade, watching the hum of planting or harvest happen around me. It was simple, yet full of life.
Despite my storybook childhood, the most meaningful lessons I’ve carried with me didn’t come from any books. My parents and grandparents were my first teachers. From my dad and Papaw, I learned that actions speak louder than words – lessons often taught from the seat of a tractor. During our time in the garden and kitchen, my mom and Mamaw taught me that care, patience, and tradition are worth more than convenience, especially when it comes to family, food, and faith. Every chore had a purpose. Every season had its work. I learned early on that no one is too important to get their boots dirty.
My foundation didn’t stop at family. It was strengthened by neighbors who always showed up, FFA advisors who gave me a voice and encouraged me to lead, 4-H leaders who cheered me on, and the friends who saw potential in me before I saw it in myself. In a rural community, success is shared; you help plant crops, fix fences, and celebrate the wins because you’ve all endured the losses. It was in those moments that I learned the value of relationships, resilience, and presence.
More than anything, those around me instilled a mindset of lifelong learning. Whether I was bottle-feeding calves, raking hay, or writing my first column for the local newspaper, I was reminded that even if you’ve done something a hundred times, there’s still more to learn. Curiosity and growth were not just encouraged, they were expected.
My home county was also once a proud dairy community, ranking among Kentucky’s top 10 counties for its number of dairies and milk production throughout the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s. I only caught the tail end of that era, but those early memories of feeding calves and tagging along to the milk barn left a lasting impression. They may have been brief, but they were powerful, and they helped shape my passion for the industry.
That passion led me to Morehead State University, where I earned a bachelor’s degree in agribusiness and animal science, and later to Oklahoma State University, where I recently completed a master’s in agricultural communications. Despite the miles I’ve traveled, I still co-operate our family’s registered Angus seedstock and commercial cow-calf herds.
What started as a love for my small family farm has grown into a passion for connecting with agriculturalists across the country. I’m honored to be the 37th editorial intern for Hoard’s Dairyman this summer – a position that feels like the perfect intersection of where I come from and where I’m headed. Because at the end of the day, I’m not just rooted in a place, I’m rooted in people. People who taught me to stay humble, build strong connections, and keep learning no matter what. Now, I carry those lessons with me, one story and one step at a time.
Samantha StammSamantha 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.
