In response to a spate of farmer suicides before Christmas the Auckland advertising executive wrote on open letter on social media to farmers thanking them for “milk for our lattes, the cream for our strawberries, the steak for our summer barbecues”.
He wanted to tell farmers people cared for them and their lives were precious.
Shirtcliffe said farmers had been subjected to plenty of criticism in recent years that ignored the care they have for the land and the work they do.
His letter circulated like wildfire around NZ, Australia, the United States, Britain and the Channel Islands but it was a response from a NZ farmer that hit a nerve.
The farmer said her husband worked seven days a week without complaining despite being beaten up by a steady stream of criticism and as a volunteer fireman he was the first responder to attend a suspected suicide.
“I thought that was really telling commentary on the realities of living in a rural community,” Shirtcliffe said.
“On the one hand they are getting beaten up and on the other hand farmers are the ones who pick up the pieces after a rural suicide.”
The unscripted solidarity from the born and bred Aucklander has personal meaning and reflected empathy with farmers.
Shirtcliffe’s wife Mary, who farmed in Hawke’s Bay and worked in rural banking before moving to Auckland, also took her life, prompting him to become involved in mental health issues including speaking at workshops aimed at helping rural people.
After reading about the spate of six farmers reportedly committing suicide Shirtcliffe heard an interview with a researcher who said many farmers suffered extra stress from being blamed for environmental degradation.
“A factor is how beaten up they feel.
“No one wants to go to work every day and continuously be told they are doing a bad job,” he said.
Much of the criticism was personalised by being referenced to farmers. He believed the conversation about environmental issues should switch to farming so it was more generic.
His message also resonated with many urban people who lent their support but Shirtcliffe said it was easy to sit in a city and “want to have your milk and drink it too”.
“We have very high expectations but we are not wanting to stop and grapple with the issue of sustainable food production.
“There are justified concerns but the conversation we have to have is not helped by attacking farmers personally.”
Any discussion on sustainable food production should avoid animosity and misunderstanding and focus on what it took to produce food and how to do so sustainably.
Shirtcliffe chose to honour the legacy of his wife by speaking out about mental health issues and by trying to do good, something he said was not always easy to do.
He sought support from his two children before talking to groups on mental health and he said they took the view that if he helped someone then it was worth doing.
“It’s a way to respond honestly and positively,” he said.
Where to get help
Lifeline 0800 543 354 or 09 522 2999
Suicide Crisis Helpline 0508 828 865
Youthline 0800 376 633 or free text 234
Samaritans 0800 726 666
Rural Support Trust 0800 787 254
Shirtcliffe’s letter
Dear Farmers,
I’m sitting here in my city office sipping my first of several lattes and thinking of you.
This should be a time of peace and joy throughout the land.
But for many on the land right now this is a time of deep pain and sorrow. Six of your own have died … over the last month alone. And they were all young, with a life full of promise.
Although I’m just another latte-sipping Aucklander, actually I give a damn.
One life lost is one too many. Six is an epidemic that’s hard to comprehend.
It’s not just those precious lives that have ended. It’s the impact on the families, farm workers and rural communities left behind to try and deal with what’s happened and pick up the pieces as best they can.
Of course, we never stop and thank you for the milk for our lattes, the cream for our strawberries, the steak for our summer barbecues.
We never choose to see or believe the care you have for your land or the work that goes into providing exactly what we need.
So I want to say thank you to the farmers like you who do a bloody hard job, bloody well.
No matter how tough it gets out there, please remember that even if you start to feel worthless, your life is a very precious thing. It’s worth a tonne more than your farm will ever be.
