The Kansas Corn and Soybean Schools are January 14 through 17 across the state. The Kansas Corn Symposium will celebrate KCGA’s 50th year on Jan. 30th,  and the Kansas Commodity Classic is Friday, Jan. 31, both at Salina.

Kansas corn producers are invited to the annual Kansas Corn Symposium to celebrate the accomplishments of Kansas Corn and its farmer members. The Symposium will be held on Thursday, Jan. 30, 2025 at the Hilton Garden Inn in Salina. The Kansas Corn Symposium brings together Kansas corn farmers, leaders and industry supporters to celebrate corn, Kansas’ top crop.

The 2025 Kansas Commodity Classic i will be Friday, January 31, 2025 at the Salina Hilton Garden Inn, from 8:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. The Kansas Commodity Classic is the annual convention of the Kansas Corn, Grain Sorghum, Soybean and Wheat growers associations. Join in for top speakers, breakfast and luncheon, offered free to growers thanks to the generous support of industry sponsors.

Kansas – the Sunflower State, where the skies are big, the wheat fields are endless, and life moves at a slower, steadier pace. It might not have the flashing lights of New York or the beaches of California, but Kansas has something even more special: a quiet, hardworking charm that sticks with you. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live in Kansas, here are 10 things only true Kansans will understand.

We know the real meaning of “big skies”

When people talk about Kansas skies, they’re not exaggerating. The horizon stretches on forever, and the sunsets? Unbelievable. Whether you’re standing on a dirt road or sitting on your porch, the expansive sky feels like it could swallow you whole—and in the best possible way.

Tornadoes are part of life – but we don’t panic

Sure, tornadoes might freak out people from other states, but Kansans have a certain calm about them when the weather turns a little rough. We know the drill—when the sirens go off, it’s time to head for the basement, check the storm tracker app, and maybe grab a snack while we wait it out. We may live in “Tornado Alley,” but we’ve got this down to a science.

Sunflowers aren’t just flowers – they’re our pride

Kansas is famous for its sunflower fields, and we wear that pride proudly. Whether you’re seeing fields full of bright yellow blooms or just passing by a roadside patch, sunflowers are a symbol of everything Kansas stands for: beauty, strength, and a little bit of sunshine wherever you go.

**We take our barbecue seriously **

I still have my very first pocketknife, a Henckels three-bladed stockman with a red bone handle. It’s safely stowed in a drawer now because its everyday utility was long ago surpassed by its sentimental value.

It was a gift from my father, as should be the case for every child’s first pocketknife, but it was so long ago I can’t remember if it was a birthday or Christmas present. I do know I was still young enough that opening the blades was somewhat difficult.

The clip, or the largest of the three blades, was by far the easiest to dislodge from its safe resting place. Its size compared to the smaller sheepsfoot and awl blades also made it the blade of choice for an impressionable youngster who might have seen “Rambo” far too early.

Consisting of polished steel and a deeply grooved handle, this pocketknife – my pocketknife – was similar, yet different from, other knives I’d briefly held to open a present on Christmas morning. My knife didn’t have the patina I’d seen on my father’s and grandfather’s. The handles on theirs were also smoothed by years of handling. Still, I knew my knife was more than a physical gift. It was a signal my father had trust in me to possess a dangerous object. I have no doubt I tested this trust from time to time, but I would like to point out I still have all 10 fingers. I do carry a couple of scars from a misplaced blade, but those came when I definitely knew better.

After the initial euphoria of becoming a pocketknife owner wore off, I did experience some disappointment. It turns out that while I could be trusted with the sharp blades, I couldn’t seem to find a reason to use them regularly, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Just as someone holding a hammer begins to see nails everywhere, I used my knife to cut any loose strings on clothing, trim my nails or just whittle points on sticks.

While my first pocketknife is no longer in use, that doesn’t mean I no longer have a use for a pocketknife. Rather, it’s such an indispensable tool I now have several of them. The nicer ones are strewn about the house with one on my dresser, one on the table near my recliner and another on my desk. There are at least four in my truck and two in my tacklebox, not counting the filet knife.

Some are similar to my original three-bladed knife, while others are single-blade folding knives that can be opened with the flick of a finger. There’s a boot knife or two included in the accounting as well (for whittling really big sticks).

Though I’ve purchased and inherited some of this collection of sharp objects, I’ve received the vast majority of knives as gifts.

While the first gift taught me there are limits to the uses of a pocketknife, its true treasure has been understanding that it’s far better to have one and not need it than need one and not have it.

— Greg Doering is with Kansas Farm Bureau. “Insight” is a weekly column published by Kansas Farm Bureau, the state’s largest farm organization whose mission is to strengthen agriculture and the lives of Kansans through advocacy, education and service.