On Pig Shows in Oklahoma
My daily outing to the pig show.
Today I went to my very first pig show. It has been seven hours now that I have been sitting with this event, and I still find myself mildly confused.
When I was living in Madrid I met this girl who had lived in LA her entire life, Nola. We became fast friends, as we were both into photography and documentaries. When I showed her my portfolio, she scrolled through, nodding and complimenting on the photos, but the ones that really made her stop in her tracks and stare for longer were the rodeo pictures. She was fascinated. She didn’t know rodeos were still a thing, she had dozens of questions, and when she got to the end of the portfolio, she scrolled back up to look at them for longer. That was when I realized that I didn’t always have to think of my life in a small town in the South as a liability, sometimes it proved to be an asset. The pictures that stood out beyond comparison to this girl from LA, where people say all cool things originate, were the pictures that were riddled with Southern culture. I found the same thing during my photography course in NYC over the summer.
The class was entirely made up of students from NYC, the west coast, or abroad. I was the only student from the middle of the country. One day the professor showed us photographs by Michael Knapstein, a popular photographer who takes pictures of the American Midwest. Everyone in the class loved his photographs, especially the older ones, saying that it really captured what the US used to look like. The professor could tell I didn’t agree, and called on me to share my opinion. I said, “I mean they’re great photos, but I don’t see anything great about what’s in them. To me, that just looks like the six hour drive going from my parents’ house back to school. The midwest still looks like that.”
Everyone was fascinated. That class is what spurred me to complete my senior project on the small towns of Oklahoma, as a little way to show people what the middle of the country really looks like.
Even though I’m graduated and technically done with my Oklahoma project, I’m always looking for those interesting events to photograph that not everybody has in their portfolio, which is where the pig show came from. I always look for interesting events in my city to photograph, especially rodeos, and figured it would be worthwhile to attend a pig show. I had no idea what to expect, but the show was five minutes away, free, and Blakely agreed to come with me to watch.
The showing started at 9 a.m. but we pulled into the parking lot at 1 p.m. worried that it would be so empty that people would have no choice but to see us. We didn’t even know why people went to pig shows in the first place, so we had no idea how to act. Should we go up to a pig pen and say, ‘Oh yeah, this one looks like it would make some real nice bacon,’ or more along the lines of, “Look at that pig– good breeding genes!’?
Turns out we did not have to worry about people watching us, as the parking lot was full and with my large car and bad depth perception, I got us stuck a multitude of times before finding a spot very far away from the entrance. As soon as we walked inside the large indoor showing arena, the stench hit us like a brick. I suppose I had assumed that it would not smell this way as these pigs were not your ordinary smelly pigs, they were supposed to be show pigs. Nevertheless, as soon as we entered that arena the smell connected with us just like Blakely’s foot immediately connected with that pig poop on the hay filled ground. I don’t think she will be going with me on any more southern photography trips anytime soon.
It took a while to navigate through the crowd, pig pens, and local vendors selling ‘Farmers for Trump 2024’ flags, but we finally found a place behind the announcers with an unobstructed view. The bleachers lining the arena, which was about half the size of a hockey rink, were already completely filled along with the space on each corner. I don’t think we were technically supposed to be in the space near the booth like we were, but I have learned that generally when I have my big, professional-looking camera, people just assume that I’m allowed to be anywhere I want to be.
As the show went on, along with reading about it later, the whole thing made a bit more sense. At any given point, there were about five pigs and their child handlers out in the arena area. The children would lead their pigs around the space with a skinny stick, hitting different sides of the pig to give it directions. Children are involved in showing pigs most of the time, as it is part of agricultural education. Most of these children were part of Future Farmers of America (FFA) which encourages kids to participate in livestock activities to train them for careers down the road and helps them develop a relationship with the animals they raise. I’ve heard a lot about FFA since moving to Oklahoma, and I described it to my friend Lennon, who lives in Michigan, like this–
“You know Ryan Gosling? These FFA kids are basically the Ryan Goslings of Oklahoma.”
I think I was still quite tired when I told her that analogy this morning, but basically what I was trying to say is that all the cool kids in Oklahoma are in FFA. It’s not the quarterback of the football team and the captain of the cheer squad, it’s the FFA kids.
These kids are supposed to stay super serious when they’re in the arena showing their pigs. They try to look mean, almost. As they’re walking around in circles, they also keep jerking their head back and forth like they’re watching a tennis game to keep one eye on their pig, and one eye on the judge, who stands in the arena who walks around with a microphone judging the pigs. When the judge picks the pig that wins, the handler must immediately stand up and shake his hand and leave the arena with their pig. They rank all the pigs, down to the very last loser.
What exactly do they rank them on? Don’t ask me. All I know is from what a scrawny 12-year old who was trying to get my number was telling me. Something about the structure of the pig, like how the ribs look or how fat the pig is, if there is a correct amount of muscle on the pig, the symmetry, how the pig moves, and also a bit on the showmanship, which is why the kids look so serious.
I have also remained confused about why people would want to compete in pig shows in the first place. What is the financial compensation? What is the gain? It seems as though the major outcome has to do with breeding. Some participants do win money through the competitions, but they don’t enter purely for that. There is a good chance some of the people in the audience were looking to buy some of those pigs so that they could make more little perfect show-pig piglets. A major part of this is breeding, and winning shows enhances the participants’ reputation as breeders, which could lead to future sales. This particular show was also emphasizing buying in-state bred pigs, meaning all of the show pigs were from Oklahoma. This is a way to encourage local agriculturalists and keep the community connected and supporting each other.
And to address my primary question, these pigs are not in the industry of bacon. They are in the industry of looking pretty and put together, as there are many types of pig breeds and some are used for show while others are market pigs. Breeds that are used for show are generally not suitable as market pigs for meat.
Therefore walking up to a pen and saying, ‘Oh yeah, this one looks like it would make some real nice bacon,’ would not be appropriate. Although, as we were leaving, Blakely and I did both agree that a burger sounded really good.
Yours truly,
Calihan