DIRT DEMOCRACY CAN BRING US BACK TO OUR ROOTS

By Suzanne Bellsnyder,
The Texas Rural Reporter
Texas has a new endangered species of rural legislators, and it’s something that should concern us all. The state faces a
water crisis, the loss of family farms, struggling public schools, and a general shift away from local control and Texas values that have made our state unique. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that, at the same time, we are losing independent thinking and rural leadership in the Texas Legislature.
Growing up in the Texas Panhandle, I didn’t fully appreciate how my upbringing would shape my view of the world. Our family had everything we needed, but we also knew what it was like to work hard, struggle,
and feel disappointment. My grandparents survived the Great Depression and the dust storms that affected the land we still farm today. It was understood that we lived as if the next crop might not come in, because sometimes it didn’t.
As I sit here today, I know our heritage faces challenges, but the traditions and values that make Texas,
Texas are strong enough to guide us forward into the future. What worries me is how easily those traditions
can be forgotten in the halls of power. That’s why I call for a return to what I call Dirt Democracy—a framework that has guided leaders since before there was even a Texas Constitution.
Dirt Democracy is where policy decisions about kitchen-table issues connect directly to the struggles of everyday life. It’s when local folks have a say in how school funding shapes our kids, how property taxes hit the family budget, whether rural hospitals
stay open, if our roads get fixed, if we have a sustainable water supply, whether ranchers can afford diesel and feed, and if small businesses can keep the lights on. Dirt Democracy is living off the land and within our means, the friendship between an immigrant farm worker and his boss, the handshake that still means trust on Main Street. It’s Friday night lights, community pride, the mascot on the water tower, and casseroles when we lose a loved one.
Democracy, at its core, is ruled by the people, where we have both the right and the responsibility to govern ourselves through our participation. Dirt Democracy is simply that idea applied close to home.
It’s communities shaping policy at the kitchen table, not lobbyists or billionaires with control in Austin. It’s accountability that happens face-to-face, when you see your councilman in a church pew or your school board member at the post office. In short, democracy is the structure, and Dirt Democracy is the texture—rooted in rural Texas values and communities that
can live or die by the actions of their elected leaders.
As our country faces a crossroads, I am committed to re-reading my Bible and studying the Constitution. I invite you to join me.
When the framers met in church halls, barns, and courthouses to write the Constitution, they weren’t inventing self-government out of thin air—they were building on what the people were already practicing. Grounded in faith and fairness, they established a system of checks and balances, imposed limits on power, and guaranteed liberty and freedom of
speech. Dirt Democracy illustrates this same tradition: democracy that begins in the dirt, among the people, influenced by local control, where the impacts are positive and realized right here at home.
Dirt Democracy only works if we practice it. That means showing up to a school board meeting, asking hard questions about where tax dollars go, holding officials accountable, and voting on the issues that matter most around your kitchen table. We must treat civic life like the land—tending it, working it, and leaving it better for the next generation. Every Texan has
a role to play, whether it’s voting, volunteering, mentoring, or simply speaking up when something needs
fixing. Our democracy is strongest when it’s rooted in
everyday life, and that starts right here, with us.