Remember how on Monday (when I posted my photo of gorgeously orange carrots and vibrantly green parsley) I mentioned that I was having a stressful day because I was trying to meet a deadline? Well, I made it—but not till almost 10:00 PM last night.

The abstract I submitted was an article proposal for the Middle West Review‘s special symposium “exploring the various dimensions of the Cold War era Midwest.” (Link to Call for Proposals HERE.) Although I was satisfied with the proposal itself by early afternoon yesterday, unfortunately when I went to submit, I noticed for the first time a few extra words in the last paragraph: “300-word proposals along with a vita [emphasis mine] should be sent to . . .”

YIKES!!!

For non-academics, a “vita” is a curriculum vitae, aka a “CV”or “vita.” It is like a resume on steroids. Into this epic document goes like EVERYTHING you’ve EVER done professionally. Classes you’ve taught, committees you’ve served on, papers presented, articles published, honors and awards—just everything!

I don’t exactly have one. Strike that. Until shortly before 10 PM last night I didn’t have one. Now I do.

I started my job at Milwaukee School of Engineering in 1996. I haven’t been on the job market since then. I love teaching there and have no plans to leave. For a long time I kept up my CV just because it was something you were supposed to do. But, you know . . . life? I had two kids, two dogs, a husband, and an old house. It all adds up. And MSOE is a teaching-focused university. I teach a 4/4 load, meaning four classes in fall semester and four classes in spring. In contrast, professors at R1 or R2 universities (“research” level 1, “research” level 2) have workloads centered more around doing research and publishing/presenting than teaching. They teach a 2/2 load, more or less, and the rest of their work lives go to research and service (serving on committees, for example). Professors at those kinds of schools truly need a vita. I, on the other hand, have a “resume” on file with MSOE for administrative purposes, probably for accreditation, and I do provide annual updates to them. But I haven’t created a beautiful document with a table of contents or anything like that. Who would see it? Why would I need a fancy CV when I’m not seeking new employment?

Well, now I know why, lol. I managed to assemble a decently respectable, ad hoc CV over the course of several hours yesterday afternoon and evening, just something acceptable that I could submit with my proposal, chagrin notwithstanding. And you never know. Now that I’ve needed it once (in 28 years), I might need it again someday, so I’m going to try spending a little time every week putting together something that I really like and that looks nice and professional. What I submitted last night wasn’t absolutely horrible, but if something is supposed to represent you and your work, ideally you would like to put your very best foot forward.

Anyhoo. I spent so much time researching and thinking about this article over the past two months that I wanted to share my abstract with you. I never know how good my ideas are, and part of me fears that this proposal is really dumb and obvious. Like, if an insight seems clear to me, then it must have been patently obvious to everyone else for a long time already and therefore isn’t a good idea. Sometimes I think I’m the absolute opposite of narcissistic. Surely there’s a happy medium between arrogance and diffidence, and that’s the sweet spot.

But anyhoo again. I did a lot of research to coax into being some kind of substantial grounding for my very vague, inchoate, intuitive feelings about the topic. Literally “substantial,” meaning the ideas were quite fleeting and insubstantial, and I needed actual facts and words to bring them into being. It was hard, but I like what I came up with, and if the Middle West Review doesn’t accept it, I’m going to write the article and find another home for it. This is the same kind of strongly positive feeling I had when I got my monthly book review column at the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel years ago. I got the idea, telephoned the book review editor (which was extremely brave of me, but that’s how strong I thought my idea was), and then when I didn’t hear anything back for a month or two after I submitted a sample column, I sent a letter asking if they were still interested because if they weren’t I’d like to try elsewhere, which resulted in a phone call from them the next day and an invitation to lunch with a couple of editors. Followed by five years of writing the monthly columns, where I got to pick my own books, and feature articles whenever I thought of something interesting to write about. It was a great gig! I regretted giving it up, but I got a new position at work (program director of one of our degree programs) that made it impossible to give it the amount of time needed.

Anyhoo again (last time, I promise!). Here is my abstract. After that long buildup, I’m afraid now you’ll be expecting something much grander than what’s here. But still, I worked hard and want to share it with someone. Any thoughts, suggestions for reading, etc., are greatly appreciated! (Just don’t suggest revisions or point out typos, because it’s too late for me to do anything to fix it 🙂 )

The Geopolitics of Grain: How Cold War Agricultural Policy Shaped the Midwest

This article re-examines U.S. agricultural policy during the Cold War (1947-1991), particularly focusing on how the American Midwest became a pivotal player (the “breadbasket of the world”) in the ideological battle between capitalism and communism. By emphasizing the region as a strategic Cold War “battleground,” the article analyzes the extent to which Midwestern farmers and policymakers were both conscious and unconscious participants in global Cold War strategies. As American food surpluses came to represent the ideological contrast between capitalist abundance and communist scarcity (seen also in events like the 1959 Nixon-Khrushchev Kitchen Debate), agriculture became a powerful diplomatic tool, perhaps even a weapon. Initiatives like the Food for Peace program used food aid to expand U.S. influence in developing nations, countering Soviet efforts to spread communism and starkly contrasting with Mao’s disastrous Great Leap Forward in China, where collectivist policies led to famine and the deaths of millions.

The Cold War reshaped the Midwest not just economically but also socially and politically. Government subsidies and Secretary of Agriculture Earl Butz’s “go big or get out” philosophy promoted the rise of large-scale corporate agribusiness, pushing small family farms to the brink and culminating in crises like the 1980s farm collapse. Local communities found their economies tied to volatile global markets and were devastated as schools, banks, and services disappeared, leaving ghost towns in their wake.

The consequences of Cold War-era agricultural policies are still unfolding. For example, agricultural practices with short-term geopolitical objectives, such as “fence row to fence row” planting, had long-term ecological costs. Ultimately, the Cold War both benefitted and burdened the American Midwest. As a local stage upon which global confrontations between powerful nations played out in hugely transformative ways, the region offers a unique case study of the Cold War’s enduring impact.