How Do You Change the Hearts and Minds of People Committed to Misunderstanding You?

It Started With a Farm I Didn't Plan to Have

I am a nurse practitioner by education. I am a flower farmer by accident. And I am an entrepreneur by necessity.

When my husband Josh passed away, I was left with a 40-acre sixth-generation property in central Minnesota  a dairy barn that hadn't been used in 15 years, crumbling outbuildings, a 130-year-old farmhouse with a dirt floor, and no up-to-code anything. It was sentimental. It was not financially sustainable. And I could not bring myself to sell it.

So I had to figure out how to turn a sentimental asset into a revenue-generating one.

I started with flowers. A farm stand, you-pick events, bouquet subscriptions, pop-ups at local breweries. In three years I went from $7,000 to over $150,000 in flower sales. But I could see the ceiling. I was selling the same product to the same customers at the same price point — a cannibal business model competing against itself. So I expanded into weddings, workshops, and corporate events. Eventually I outgrew the space entirely.

That is when I decided to build: a real on-farm event venue, a walk-in cooler, a farm store. And to do it legally, I needed a conditional use permit from my county.

What Happened When I Applied

I filled out the application exactly. I followed the process. There was a public review period for neighbors to raise concerns, and a handful did  traffic, noise, change. I tried to address every one of them. I explained that the farm I had been operating for years was actually far less predictable than what I was proposing: up to 200 people showing up at undefined hours for a pickup window, no permit required. What I was asking for would make things more structured, not less.

They were not open to hearing it.

One county commissioner took hold of the opposition. He compared my permit to WE Fest — a 100,000-person, three-day country music festival. He accused my application of fraud in a public meeting. When the other commissioners refused to schedule a second hearing just because some neighbors didn't get their way, he walked out and stormed off. It made the news. My neighbors went to the local paper. And I was being honked at, given the middle finger, screamed at, and called a liar — for doing nothing wrong.

When Silence Stops Working

For a while I said "no comment." What I learned is that silence just lets other people write your story.

Eventually I went to the statewide paper and told my side. The county attorney confirmed in his own interview that I had followed the process correctly. I filed a formal complaint against the commissioner — not for revenge, but for accountability, and for the next person trying to build something in a county that doesn't understand it yet. That letter became public record, and the community response was overwhelmingly supportive.

The permit was approved. The building opened in November.

A Year Later

We have had dozens of events. Thousands of visitors. No noise complaints. No traffic problems. No WE Fest.

Last week, one of the neighbors called and said: "I think we were misinformed. We see that it's going well. We really do wish you the best."

That is the whole lesson. People do not change their minds because of arguments. They change because they experience something different, because time passes, because fear fades. When it comes to leadership, you can be a thermostat or a thermometer  you can set the temperature or just react to it. The commissioner reacted. I tried to set it and wait.

This is not the time for "I told you so." It is time to move forward.

The Bigger Question

Ten miles from my farm, 200 acres of potato land is being converted to a solar farm because an irrigation permit could not transfer to the next generation. Good farmland. Gone.

Do we actually want farms to survive, or do we just like the idea of them?

Agritourism is one real answer. It creates jobs, local spending, and a reason for the next generation to stay on the land. But it only works if we let it. Tell the truth. Document everything. Lead with integrity. Play the long game. And bloom anyway.