Mental health stigma leaves WA farming communities vulnerable

Mental health stigma leaves WA farming communities vulnerable

Driving a back road outside of Lynden in a potato hauler, a huge smile breaks across Duane Brandsma’s face as he recalls the rhythm of life growing up on the family farm. Lean and tan, the former dairyman moves with ease, heading for the fields after years away. 

Two decades ago, he had a mental breakdown that he blames on overcommitment, depression and irrational fears about the business. Even now, he says he’s not the same. 

“If you stop farming, you lose that identity,” said Brandsma, 59, who was forced to leave his position as plant manager of his family’s farm, Edaleen Dairy, in his early 40s. Now he’s recently back to farming as a part-time hand. “It’s who you were; it’s how people recognized you.”

Brandsma, suffering from depression and navigating suicidal thoughts at the time, was unaware of mental health resources specifically for farmers, who face unique stressors out of their control.

[ Read more: Closure of processing facilities, volatile tariffs add stress ]

Factors such as isolation and struggles with occupational identity can lead to suicide in rural communities, where farming comes with expectations of a bootstrap mentality and ideals of rugged individualism.

Even when resources are available, Brandsma said it can be hard to seek help because of the stigma.

A tractor creates mounds for potato planting on May 22 in Whatcom County. Much of a farmer’s work is relatively solitary. Isolation is one of the key issues identified by researchers that contribute to farmers’ high rate of suicide. (Isaac Stone Simonelli/Cascadia Daily News)

Federal funds tagged for farmer suicide prevention and stress management programs were recently reinstated by the Trump administration after the money was frozen more than a month ago.

The move comes at a time when agricultural communities are increasingly challenged by unpredictable weather, environmental regulations and tariff impacts.

“It’s as bad as I remember things being in the 1980s during the Farm Crisis,” said Don McMoran, the director of Washington State University Skagit County Extension. Then, more than 1,000 farmers, whose land was foreclosed on due to skyrocketing interest rates, committed suicide in the U.S.

Today, McMoran said escalating stressors on farming communities will likely lead to an increase in suicides.

Suicide is a leading cause of death in the U.S., with more than 49,000 lives lost in 2023, according to the CDC. Farmers are 3.5 times more likely to die by suicide than the general population, according to the National Rural Health Association. Research shows they have a higher rate of suicide compared to other occupations.

Between 2016 and 2019, three agricultural workers committed suicide in Skagit County, said McMoran, a fourth-generation farmer. Those losses were the catalyst to organize resources and help for farmworkers.

The result was the Western Regional Agricultural Stress Assistance Partnership (WRASAP), which enables training programs supporting mental health for farmers and farmworkers, a crisis hotline, a robust online directory and a network of local partners. 

The website provides information on roughly 100 different topics, including direct marketing assistance, telehealth, farm stress, mental health services and crisis assistance. Under the crisis assistance tab, more than a dozen resources are listed throughout Washington. 

WRASAP is 100% federally funded through the continued reauthorization of the 2018 Farm Bill, serving 13 states and four territories in the Western U.S. In the first quarter of this year, the program provided outreach to more than 5,000 people. It receives $2.2 million in grant funding per grant cycle, which gets split between partners across the region.

Duane Brandsma calls another farmhand to see where he should deliver cut potatoes for planting. (Isaac Stone Simonelli/Cascadia Daily News)

Suicide factors

Agricultural workers who died by suicide often faced a series of significant challenges and setbacks over a short amount of time, explained Rebecca Purc-Stephenson, a professor of psychology at the University of Alberta and the research lead at Agricultural Well-Being in Alberta.

“It was like a hole they could not see a way out of,” she said.

Farmers who died by suicide were often described as “hard-working, strong, private people who took great pride in being the stoic breadwinners of their families,” according to Purc-Stephenson’s research.

“A lot of times farmers work by themselves, and then when you’re by yourself, your thoughts become your worst enemies,” Brandsma said, pointing out how easy it is to start spiraling.

When interviewing farmers, Purc-Stephenson said she often heard them say they “were worth more dead than alive.”

“It was devastating,” she added.

Brandsma, who’s been in that dark place, explained the feeling of complete failure as you watch your life’s work crumble around you. On some mornings when he was still running a farm, he would lie in bed next to his wife crying, overwhelmed by it all.

“During the worst of times, my wife was scared to go to work and leave me at home by myself and not knowing what she would come back to,” he said.

Researchers found that farmers who tend to fare better are those whose identities supersede the farm, while those who dedicated their entire life to the farm, or were part of a family legacy, were at a higher risk.

Darla Tyler-McSherry lost her father, Dick Tyler, to suicide in 2016. Two years later, she founded the nonprofit Ask In Earnest, dedicated to raising awareness and education about mental health issues. (Photo courtesy of Darla Tyler-McSherry)

Darla Tyler-McSherry lost her 82-year-old father, Dick Tyler, to suicide in 2016. He’d been part of harvests on the family’s wheat farm in Montana for 71 years. Prior to his death, health issues prevented him from participating.

“We were totally blindsided by it,” Tyler-McSherry said. “It’s hard to put into words the devastation for the family and then the ripple effect in those small towns.”

Two years after her father’s death, Tyler-McSherry founded the nonprofit Ask In Earnest, which is dedicated to raising awareness and education about mental health issues in the farm and ranch community. It’s one of many organizations that have received funding from WRASAP.

“We didn’t realize he was struggling with thoughts of suicide,” Tyler-McSherry said. “He didn’t have that language. We don’t have that culture.”

Tyler-McSherry pointed out that if a farmer has a physical injury, the community is quick to show up with casseroles when he gets out of the hospital, but if it’s a mental health crisis, he comes home to “crickets.”

“People don’t know what to say,” she explained.

However, she’s found that when provided a safe, supportive environment, community members are more willing to talk about depression and suicide.

Programs and help

About 20 years ago, Jay Gordon and an elderly neighboring Washington farmer spent some time together on a Saturday morning. The following Monday, the neighbor left a suicide note and shot himself.

“He didn’t say a word,” said Gordon, a sixth-generation farmer in the Chehalis Valley. “He just left his dead body in the middle of the driveway.”

After the incident, Gordon started a family farm support network program in the early 2000s. It ran out of funding after about five years.

Gordon said crisis hotlines for people in agricultural communities are especially important and pointed out they need to be in English and Spanish. Hotline operators need to help farmers navigate a crisis, and support farmhands and the entire family. 

The WRASAP funding also supports outreach projects, such as the Pizza 4 Producers event, which led with wood-fired pizza and a live band instead of the more difficult topic of “suicide prevention,” McMoran said. 

“It’s taken us a good amount of time to build trust with the agricultural community,” he explained, but a survey given to participants after the event revealed many felt less stressed and more confident to reach out if they or a loved one was experiencing a mental health crisis. That proves “we are on the right path,” McMoran added.

Brandsma is an advocate for farmers seeking support through counselors, as well as religious leaders, as he has.

A good counselor gets “you seeing that you have something to offer, that you’re worthwhile,” said Brandsma, a grandpa and father of five.

To Purc-Stephenson and other advocates, a good mental health provider should understand the stressors farmers face.

“One of the best things that can be done is mental health literacy that’s tailored for people in agriculture,” Purc-Stephenson said.

Before the breakdown, Brandsma would have counted himself among the farmers who had said, “get it together … be happy.” He didn’t understand then, but he does now.

Many farmers might consider seeking help to be a sign of weakness, but “it’s the opposite,” he said.

If you or someone you know is struggling, dial or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline or text CONNECT to 741741 to reach the Crisis Text Line. More info: crisistextline.org. If you are in need of grief support services and/or response to suicide resources, visit the Washington State Department of Health website.

For agricultural workers, free and confidential resources: Farm Aid Resource Line, 1-800-FARM-AID (327-6243); AgriStress HELPLINE, 833-897-2474 (Call or Text). For additional resources, visit www.farmstress.us.

Isaac Stone Simonelli is CDN’s enterprise/investigations reporter; reach him at [email protected]; 360-922-3090 ext. 127.

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