Undergraduate Insights

March - Caleb Schwartz - Passion and Commitment - A Recipe for Success

The University offers a summer school ‘Science Experience’ subject which involves
the opportunity to tour Southern Queensland. It provides a very different learning
environment to what we otherwise experience, and its one that I found extremely
effective. The assessments for the subject were centred on drawing comparisons
between production systems and thinking critically about them, and with this in mind
it was a fascinating week. It was great to see the differences in climate, farming
systems, and to stay in a range of towns and hotels and see what they had to offer -
particularly enjoying a good steak at each (as the Uni was paying).
As university students, we’re often asked what we plan to do once we finish, and
there was a lot of talk along these lines on the trip. This was centred around whether
students would consider a job in the areas of Queensland visited—seemingly with its
riches in irrigated cotton, productive horticulture, and extensive cattle operations. It’s
a well-meaning question but feels impossible to answer with certainty. At a recent
KLR Marketing course, I was introduced to one of their principles: ‘Know and
understand yourself.’ It was fascinating to reflect on this in relation to these
questions, the production systems, and how they may have resonated differently for
different people due to their unique perspectives. An example that comes to mind
occurred on our first visit. The speaker asked what made us pursue a career in
agriculture, and with no one providing a definitive answer, he suggested it might
have been for the money. This certainly wasn’t my motivation to pursue this career
path, but the questions was thought-provoking.
While in Queensland, I found a second-hand copy of Wayne Bennett’s book Don’t
Die with the Music in You. Bennett uses a wonderful array of quotes, including, ‘It’s
not about what you say, it’s about what they hear.’ I think it’s a reminder that learning
isn’t just about accumulating knowledge; it’s about how we perceive it and apply it.
Growth will occur when we question our assumptions and be curious.
Later in the trip, I found myself in conversation with a cattle producer. He asked,
‘What excites you about Agriculture?’ I realised that this is the answer to the question
about post-Uni plans. The answer isn’t a job title or a location – it’s what will have us
jump out of bed in the morning. Something that has us fully engaged, asking
questions, and thinking deeply. Passion isn’t a destination; it’s a feeling. And
perhaps, if we chase that feeling, the rest will fall into place.
Thinking about a metaphor I once heard of the hen and the pig. In terms of bacon
and eggs, the hen is involved, but the pig is fully committed. I think it’s another
essential question we all face - are we just showing up, or are we fully committing?
The real challenge may not be discovering what we love; it might be having the
courage to pursue it wholeheartedly.

February - Caleb Schwartz - Agricultural and Educational Ecosystems

Many Agricultural Science students spend their summer break ticking off some of the required internship hours and earning some pocket money to help see them through the year. I have thoroughly enjoyed doing this working alongside a previous Agricultural Science graduate nearing the end of his Entomology career. The work has involved assessing vineyards for pests and diseases, and it has been a privilege to hear his great knowledge in identifying species and their roles within the ecosystem. It’s taught me to really appreciate the power of observation as well as curiosity.

It’s been interesting to view the parallels between us – from both ends of a career and to hear how the Ag Science course has changed in that time, and what has remained. It’s been a pleasure to hear the stories about the relationships formed through these tertiary years and how quintessential they are to the journey. People will often talk negatively regarding the cost associated with going through university and renting or boarding in Adelaide, and I think this is a reductionist view that undervalues these relationships. The experiences and opportunities gained from these environments are worth far more than the financial cost.

I’ve recently listened to some of Ex-Navy SEAL, turned motivational speaker David Goggins who is quoted to have said, "When you’re in Hell Week, you’re all suffering together. You all come from different backgrounds, but you’re sitting in the same mud, dealing with the same struggle, and it brings you together in a way nothing else can." This reminds me of the university experience (however, certainly not as extreme). Bonds formed in the shared experiences – whether that’s an Agricultural Science Pub Crawl or the Navy SEAL’s Hell Week – are invaluable.

It reminds me of the way farmers experience the seasons each year, facing challenges that shift with time but remain fundamentally the same. Just like new cohorts of students sitting in the same lecture seats year after year, gaining wisdom passed down from those before them, farmers rely on generational knowledge, industry connections, and the lessons learned from their predecessors. These relationships are essential to the functioning of both education and agriculture.

As I prepare to head back to university for another year, I do so with a renewed appreciation for the network that surrounds me. Just as an ecosystem will function best when all its parts work together, the future of agriculture relies on our willingness to learn from each other. We are not just individuals pursuing degrees—we are part of something much bigger, a system that depends on collaboration, curiosity, and the sharing of knowledge to thrive.

January 2025 - Caleb Schwartz - Comfortably Uncomfortable

Last year, I was fortunate to visit a station on the southern end of the Strzelecki Track. I was struck by the vibrancy of the people I met and the beauty of the landscape, which had been blessed with good rainfall. During my time there, I witnessed a conversation that got me thinking. We got onto the topic of fear and the station’s owner was asked about the fear he felt riding broncos. His response was that there really wasn’t much (I wish I could say the same). Instead, he said he would have a greater fear spending time in Adelaide. It made me reflect on my experience of starting at university, particularly early visits to the North Terrace campus, which the new intake of Ag Science students will experience in a couple of months’ time. There was an inherent level of fear associated with this – hundreds of students in lecture theatres, protests on the lawns, and a busy crowd of quite different people from those I’d grown up with.

I’ve enjoyed listening to the work of Brené Brown, a researcher renowned for her work on courage and its link to vulnerability. She is quoted to have said, “You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you cannot have both.” This resonates with me reflecting on my transition to university, and really, into adult life. Stepping into the discomfort was unsettling, but necessary, and I’m very grateful that I did as I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the learning, people, and places that I’ve encountered as a result. Brown states that any act of true courage requires an act of vulnerability. Therefore, leaning into this vulnerability is likely a great strength. For many farmers this courage may be second nature, navigating dry times, mandates, and volatile markets. Comfort is alluring but rarely productive. The acts that feel most challenging will often bring the greatest rewards. My personal experience is that something good usually arises from vulnerability, and if not, it will usually make a pretty good story.

For an introvert these moments of discomfort can feel magnified. Yet, as Australian neuroscientist Allan Parker illustrates, introversion can also be a powerful asset. I recently listened to a podcast in which Parker reflected on how his introverted nature shaped his career as an international negotiator. He claimed that it equipped him to be an “astute observer and obsessive listener.” He stated, “Everything’s about timing, and timing is made powerful by observation and listening.” These skills became pivotal to his success.

Mindset coach Ben Crowe further builds on these ideas of self-awareness and vulnerability. He encourages people to focus on values over outcomes, emphasizing that being comfortable with discomfort allows one to remain present and authentic in uncertain times. “Courage isn’t about not being afraid,” Crowe says. “It’s about stepping forward despite that fear.” This mindset is probably especially transformative for both a student and in agriculture, where outcomes are inherently unpredictable. Whether it’s group presentations and exams or driving innovation, leading change, or rethinking management and systems, growth often arises from embracing discomfort and venturing into the unknown.

For me, the station visit was a reminder of the universal truth in Brown’s words: courage and comfort cannot coexist. It’s a challenge we all face, whether in agriculture, academia, or life. And while the discomfort of those moments may never fade entirely, the rewards—resilience, growth, and connection—are always worth the effort.