Creeping across the pasture land. Got dirt on
the boots and a working hand. From the milk house
home to the auction call. These are the folks
standing strong and tall. Yeah, this is... Hey
everyone, and welcome back to the Bullvine Podcast.
It's great to have you with me today. Whether
you've just finished morning chores, you're out
for a drive, or stealing a quiet minute in the
office, I'm glad you tuned in, because I've got
a truly inspiring story for you. One about roots,
vision, and how a little girl in a dusty Ontario
fair ring could end up leading the charge for
Canadian dairy's communication future. So, settle
in, because this one's not just about milk, cattle,
or data. This is about how one person's journey
can change what's possible for everyone who cares
about the future of farming. Let's start about
as far back as you can. Imagine a little girl,
just three years old, at Centerville Fair in
eastern Ontario. You probably remember those
days yourself. Show rings full of dust, calves
fidgeting, your family bustling around you, everyone
pitching in. Madison Diamond was that girl, holding
the lead rope of her calf, Lilo. proudly marching
into the ring alongside her older cousins. The
sweet smell of fresh shavings mixing with summer
air and the anticipation that only a county fair
can create. Parents and grandparents lining the
rail, heart in their throat, cameras at the ready.
They're watching not just for ribbons, but to
see the next generation take up the torch. Those
moments matter. For Madison, that little slice
of childhood, showing in the same ring as her
cousins, surrounded by family, was the first
chapter in a story that would change her and
could change Canadian dairy for years to come.
See, for Madison, dairy wasn't just an interest.
It was in her bones, the fabric of daily life.
Her mom's family, her dad's family, and even
her stepdad's side were all, as she puts it,
generational dairy farmers. Folks who still worked
the land and put in the hours day in, day out.
That wasn't just talk in her house. It was supper
table strategy sessions. the play -by -play on
heifer development, comparing notes on neighbors'
breeding decisions, keeping up on every trend
that hit the industry. And she didn't just inherit
a work ethic. Madison's family is what she affectionately
calls a chatty group. Open conversation, encouragement,
support for taking different paths, all that
was baked in. Yeah, she toyed with being a teacher,
she considered vet school, even thought about
being a marine biologist. But when it came right
down to it, she found her greatest love was teaching,
English, and of course, agriculture. Only back
then, she thought she had to choose between those
things. Here's where things take a turn worth
remembering. A kitchen table kind of moment.
Madison's mom, seeing her daughter's passions,
recommends looking into agricultural communications.
It's the kind of advice that sounds simple, but
it changed the trajectory of Madison's life.
Suddenly, Madison realized she didn't have to
let go of any piece of herself. She could bring
her love of teaching, writing, and farming together,
maybe even become a professor one day. If you
grew up on a farm, you know sometimes your story
looks a little different than the next kid's.
Madison never lived on a milking farm. Her family
worked a small breeding operation instead. And
before high school, they moved closer to town.
She took responsibilities other farm kids may
not have. and when high school hit, she started
milking for a neighbor, balancing chores at home
and at the barn down the road. She credits her
parents for teaching her and her sisters the
value of hard work, work that's less physical
for her these days, but just as driven. Madison's
parents didn't just foster a love of work, they
made sure she felt free to explore. She remembers
them encouraging every career phase any kid can
imagine. never pushing her in one direction,
but always ready to support the decision she
made. But then reality hit. If Madison wanted
to pursue agricultural communications at a deeper
level, she had to leave home. There just wasn't
a robust program in Canada that would let her
blend her love for teaching, English, and agriculture
in a purposeful way. It was a hard thing to face,
but Madison understood that she would have to
move away, not for a semester, not for a summer.
but for years if she wanted to chase this dream.
So off she went, first to the University of Kentucky,
then down to Florida for her PhD. And it was
more than a change of scenery. Madison found
her way into the orbit of Dr. Ricky Telg at the
University of Florida, a man who's often called
the father of agcom, doctor. Telg has built his
legacy, shaping the very core of how many modern
agricultural communications programs operate
all over the US. breathing life into curriculum,
faculty training, student mentorship, the works.
Madison describes Dr. Telg as a superhero in
so many ways. He taught her about how to be a
great teacher, how to give back, even how to
nurture faith. And importantly, Dr. Telg's take
on communications wasn't stuck in the past. It
was broad, creative, and alive, showing Madison
that agricultural communications could mean everything
from digital media to crisis management, social
media, educator training, and defending dairy
in the court of public opinion. Another massive
influence was Dr. Jamie Loezo. Under her guidance,
Madison learned not to let the limits of what
you see before you dictate how you go about your
work. Loezo pushed her to be creative, to push
boundaries, and, importantly, to always think
a little bit bigger than what everybody else
thought was possible. This philosophy on mentorship
is something Madison holds close. She deeply
values getting to know her students or mentees
for who they are. It's not just about classroom
struggles, but about understanding the whole
person, the farm they came from, the problems
that might be weighing them down outside class,
and where they want to go. Through these years
of study and teaching, Madison's understanding
of AgCom grew. Originally, she, like a lot of
students she'd later meet at Guelph, really just
thought of it as bridging the gap between producers
and consumers. Managing messaging, fighting misconceptions,
telling our side of the story. But she'd come
to find out the field was so much bigger. Agcom
covers everything from government policy to agricultural
marketing, from consulting to science communications,
from rodeo broadcasting to digital media production,
and yes, even law. That realization opened up
an entirely new world. Not just for Madison,
but for all the students she's now hoping to
help back in Canada. One of the coolest projects
Madison's tackled, one she's honestly proudest
of, was her dissertation. Not just because it
meant finally holding that PhD parchment, but
because of the way she was able to co -create
knowledge with her participants. She talks about
the difference it makes to bring people into
the research in a real way, letting their voices
and experiences guide the work. Her hope, and
it's a big one, is to leverage that research
to help other faculty get a head start, sharing
mentorship, building up the discipline, bringing
even more educators up to speed as AgComm grows.
During her time in Florida, Madison teamed up
with Dr. Time, Lloyd's O on the Streaming Science
Project, an international collaboration featuring
scientists, grad students, undergrads, and alumni
from the University of Guelph. Together, They
created podcasts that shone a light on sustainable
farming, science, and the very heart of agriculture.
This wasn't just about building a student resume.
It was testimony to what happens when you let
learning reach beyond the classroom and into
real hands -on advocacy. She's always had her
eye on the practical meaning of her work. Madison
says, I want to adequately represent producer
experiences and amplify their voices when I can.
That producer -first, community -partnership
approach is really her secret sauce. She doesn't
see herself dropping research on people from
above. Instead, she dives in with them, makes
the work about what matters to real folks, so
the findings aren't just academic, they're usable
back on the farm. All that, and Madison still
says her biggest professional accomplishment,
that dissertation and the work she did in co
-creation, is something she's most proud of.
She hopes the payoff is that new and veteran
faculty alike can feel a bit more satisfied and,
in turn, help the discipline of AgComm keep growing.
She sees that discipline expanding, tackling
new topics like natural resources communications,
more variety in who pursues these programs, and
bolder, broader impact in both education and
in the industry. So what does all this mean for
Canadian dairy? In Madison's eyes, the big challenge
has always been how do we build an education
system up here that means kids don't have to
leave home to chase their passions her vision
is to create a formal agricultural communications
program an actual undergraduate and graduate
option at the university of guelph and she wants
it to be for everyone the high schooler leading
their first show calf the producer facing another
round of consumer misconceptions the lifelong
farmer who wants their story told with fairness
and pride. And let me tell you, she's not alone
in this vision. She's seen similar efforts work
in places like the UK and Australia, where other
AgCom leaders have set up new programs in universities
that had nothing before. There's interest right
here, too. Alberta has started experimenting
with AgCom offerings, and Madison's research
has shown that kids, parents, and professionals
are all hungry for more. But she also knows the
job's not done until real change happens. Not
just more classes, but a new way for Canadian
dairy to get its story out there. In an industry
where succession and legacy matter just as much
as daily yield, this isn't optional. If the next
generation of dairy leaders, and let's be honest,
the farmers who carry the stickiest criticism
from outsiders, wants to weather the storms,
they'll need the skills to advocate, connect,
and build credibility. online and off. Madison
is adamant you can't leave storytelling to outsiders.
Dairy farmers across the country are under more
pressure than ever to communicate clearly about
welfare, sustainability, food safety, and economics.
She wants to put the power back where it belongs,
with the families who are living the story every
day. Now, you can't talk about farming today
without mentioning technology. And Madison is
all in on this too, as long as it's used ethically.
From AI -powered social tools that help farmers
manage outreach and reputation, to using data
to tell the true story about herd health, productivity,
and sustainability, this is the next leap dairy
needs to make. Farms generate enormous data every
day, and Madison contends that with the right
training and mindset, that data becomes our greatest
asset in defending and defining the industry
to consumers, processors, and even government.
Let's not forget. She wants to equip her students
and future dairy leaders to transform that jumble
of milk weights, feed conversion, and animal
health data into not just spreadsheets, but real,
relatable narratives that move people, open doors
to premium contracts, new partnerships, and community
trust. Throughout all these achievements and
dreams, Madison's never lost focus on home. She's
honest about missing Canada, about what it means
to set roots somewhere. and feel the tug to come
back. That's not just nostalgia. It's a call
to action. She sees the chance to bring everything
she's learned back to Ontario to help build a
truly world -class program and to make sure that
kids like her, kids like your own, don't have
to choose between their communities and their
calling. She isn't alone in this either. She's
grateful to folks like Crystal McKay, pioneers
who've carried the torch for agricultural communications.
showing what can be done with grit, vision, and
a whole lot of passion. Madison wants her legacy
to be a road home for the next wave of agricultural
communicators, and for every farm kid with big
dreams and muddy boots. So, what can we take
from all of this? Madison's story is, in a lot
of ways, the story of every farm family who has
ever wanted more for their kids than just what's
easy. It's about roots, about the value of mentors,
parents or just neighbors who cheer you on at
the show it's about believing that every story
from the biggest operation to the smallest show
ring matters it's about the power of coming home
if you're listening right now as a producer as
someone who works hard and stays humble don't
ever doubt the value of your own voice madison's
journey from show ring to classroom and back
again is about making sure that voice is strong
enough to shape not just your own future but
the future of Canadian dairy for generations
to come. So here are my key takeaways. Roots
matter. Even when the soil changes beneath our
feet, those roots are where we draw our strength.
Mentors matter. Whether they wear barn boots
or cap and gown, those who encourage us deserve
a thank you. Your story matters. From the kitchen
table to Parliament Hill, every farmer's voice,
every producer's reality has power. Sometimes,
you do have to leave home for a while, but nothing
beats coming back and planting seeds for the
next person. And legacy, it's not the grand gestures,
it's the little lessons and honest work handed
down through the years. Thanks again for joining
me on the Bullvine Podcast. Madison's journey
has given me, maybe all of us, a little more
hope. Hope that through education, communications,
and a whole lot of heart, we can make sure the
world hears our story the way it deserves to
be told. If you liked this episode, share it
with a friend, send us your thoughts, and remember,
your story, whether milk -soaked, mud -streaked,
or wrapped in ambition, is worth telling. Signing
off for now. Keep your boots dry, your cows content,
and your heart in the right place. I'll see you
next time, right here on The Bulldog.