Rico Munn stepped onto the stage at Massari Arena to find himself upstaged by his appearance. Or lack thereof.
“I am the after picture for the hair decorating contest,” the CSU Pueblo interim president deadpanned to about 1,000 teenagers. Munn is completely bald.
The joke landed perfectly, coming moments after a few FFA (formerly the Future Farmers of America) members had transformed their teachers into walking hair-art projects with glitter, brightly colored hairspray, and oversized glasses on stage. But Munn’s next move revealed a larger strategy. He pivoted from comedy to Thomas Jefferson, from makeovers to college credits, demonstrating how agricultural education straddles American tradition and modern workforce needs.
During the 97th Colorado FFA State Convention, held June 2-5, Munn announced that Colorado members earning their Chapter FFA state degrees would automatically receive seven college credits at CSU Pueblo. The program represents a broader effort by land-grant universities to maintain relevance in rural communities as farm populations shrink and agricultural careers increasingly require technological fluency.
“Many years ago, Thomas Jefferson talked about an agrarian republic where, at the center of our government, it would be rural communities and agriculture,” Munn told the assembly, still processing his bald joke. “Now the industrial revolution at the time overtook some of those ideas, but it is important to know that at the very founding of our nation, there was a centrality or importance of rural communities and agriculture.”
The tension between that founding vision and contemporary reality played out across four days of competition. While students still donned the organization’s iconic blue corduroy jackets and competed in livestock judging, they also participated in a new Agricultural Communications contest requiring social media campaigns and broadcast production skills.
Grace Peterson embodies the evolution. The FFA member hosts a weekly 6:30 a.m. radio show in Sterling, Colorado, interviewing agricultural professionals and fellow students. She won the individual communications award not for showing cattle but for showing how modern farming requires public engagement.
“I get to talk with so many different people who all do something different, but they’re all contributing to the industry,” Peterson said.
The traditional paths haven’t disappeared. Emily Rossi received the Beef Production Proficiency Entrepreneurship award after expanding her cattle operation from nine head to 39 plus offspring in under three years. She calculated her growth at 433%, the kind of precise figure expected from young agriculturalists who must be both ranchers and accountants.
Yet even traditional success stories reflect changing dynamics. Rossi’s northwestern Colorado ranch operates in a state where urban and suburban populations increasingly dominate politically and economically. The FFA convention at CSU Pueblo serves as one of few remaining bridges between these diverging worlds.
The opening ceremony crystallized this bridging function. State officers traced how cotton becomes corduroy, transforming textile manufacturing into an emotional narrative about identity and belonging. The jackets represent continuity in an industry facing upheaval from climate change, corporate consolidation and technological disruption.
Levi Wofford captured agriculture’s expanding definition by winning awards in both Poultry Production and Agricultural Mechanics Repair. His poultry program teaches elementary students about food origins while his mechanics work keeps essential equipment running. Two skills, one truth: modern agriculture requires versatility.
The convention also marked generational transition. Rocky Ernst received the Legendary Owl award while retiring after 40 years teaching agriculture. His former student Jarod Holdren, now managing security operations in Denver, called him “the best advisor ever.” The praise hints at FFA’s role beyond vocational training as it serves as leadership incubator for students who may never farm professionally.
CSU Pueblo’s credit recognition program acknowledges this reality. With seven credits nearly equaling a semester’s work, it potentially saves thousands in tuition while validating hands on learning. For rural students facing higher education’s rising costs, the program offers tangible support.
“We are the place where our rural communities, that agricultural community, come together,” Munn said, describing CSU Pueblo’s position within the Colorado State University System. While CSU Fort Collins serves as the flagship land grant institution and CSU Global provides online access, Pueblo functions as the regional connector.
FFA officers live on its Spur campus, creating what Munn called daily intersections between academic and agricultural life. Such arrangements matter in a state where urban voters increasingly determine agricultural policy without direct farming experience.
Tyler Halverson, performing country music at the end of the ceremony, joked about wanting a blue jacket “to blend in.” The comment goes beyond humor. As fewer Americans have direct agricultural connections, the jackets become markers of an increasingly rare experience.
The new Agricultural Communications contest signals FFA’s adaptation. Teams created comprehensive media packages including news stories, social media strategies and broadcast segments. Kennedy Evans from the winning Valley FFA team described it as “one of the most chill contests I ever competed in,” with music playing while students collaborated.
The informality masks serious purpose. American agriculture faces a communication crisis as consumer distance from food production breeds misunderstanding about farming practices, environmental impact and economic realities. Training young agriculturalists in media production addresses industry needs as directly as teaching them to judge livestock.
Munn closed his address with “Go Pack!” the university cheer, landing differently among potential students who’d just learned their FFA work could accelerate college careers. But his earlier invocation of Jefferson lingered. The third president’s agrarian republic never materialized. Industrial capitalism triumphed. Rural populations dwindled. Political power shifted to cities.
Yet 1,000 teenagers in blue jackets suggest something persists. Not Jefferson’s vision exactly, but an evolved version where rural knowledge matters even as its practitioners shrink in number. Where tradition provides foundation for innovation rather than resistance to it. Where a bald university president can make hair jokes before discussing agricultural policy and both moments serve the same purpose: keeping agricultural education relevant for another generation.
The glitter washed out by day’s end. The students returned to communities across Colorado. Some, like Rossi, will expand family operations. Others will carry agricultural knowledge into urban careers like Holdren. Most will navigate between both worlds, equally comfortable with livestock scales and Instagram analytics.
That’s the modern agrarian republic. Smaller than Jefferson imagined. More technologically complex. Still essential for feeding everyone else. Still worth seven college credits and a week in June to celebrate.
