Preparing for the OAAS Convention!
It’s that time of year again, the barn doors creak closed on one fair season, and before the manure’s even dried, the agricultural society’s planning for next year’s extravaganza is already in full swing. You’d think that after more than a century of practice (our dear old Agricultural Society is over 100 years old, after all), we’d have it down to a fine art, like canning jam or convincing dairy cows to smile nicely for photos. But no. Each year’s preparations feel like a grand new experiment in chaos theory, just with more fiddles, funnel cakes, and very opinionated alpacas. The OAAS Convention is almost here!
Getting ready for the OAAS Convention
To kick things off, the society members do what every self-respecting group of overextended volunteers does: they pack their wooliest sweaters, cram into someone’s “mostly reliable” pickup, and set off to attend the Ontario Association of Agricultural Societies (OAAS) convention in February. Now, if you’ve never been to the OAAS convention, imagine a slightly more organized family reunion, except everyone’s related through farming instead of genetics, and the main question isn’t “Who brought the potato salad?” but “Who’s got the best deal on portable toilets for next year?” It’s a weekend of workshops, seminars, and networking events where you learn about the latest trends in goat grooming and high-tech pie judging. It’s also a great place to reacquaint yourself with old friends, most of whom you only see when there’s an angry bull loose in the 4-H pen or you’re arguing about which direction the hay bale pyramid should face. (OAAS Convention)
Old friends meet at the Convention
Armed with coffee that’s at least a shade more potent than last year’s and notes scribbled on the back of last month’s bank statements, the new society directors shuffle from presentation to presentation, trying to absorb all the “modern” tips and tricks. One director, let’s call him Gary, still insists that the best marketing strategy is a handwritten flyer nailed to every fence post in the county. (OAAS Convention)
Old ideas for promoting fairs are discussed
Meanwhile, Director Judi wants to test out a new social media platform none of them can pronounce. Naturally, there’s a bit of a generational gap, Gary thinks “tweeting” is something the starlings do at dawn, while Judi thinks that any message not accompanied by a .gif of a dancing turnip is basically an insult. Eventually, they’ll compromise. After all, what’s a hundred-year-old organization without a little healthy debate over how to convince local sponsors that they need more corporate logos painted on the local goat pen? (OAAS Convention)
New ideas for promoting fairs are discussed
Speaking of sponsors, that’s a whole other ball of wax. As the society members strategize, one particularly earnest committee chair suggests a “five-tier sponsorship program,” which sounds more like a wedding cake flavor chart than a fundraising tactic. Of course, the local fertilizer company doesn’t want to pay more for naming rights if they don’t get at least three giant banners and a rotating LED sign powered by a team of ferrets in tiny running shoes. The tire repair shop wants exclusive rights to the tractor pull arena, but only if they can set up a popcorn stand shaped like a radial tire. And who can forget the perennial problem: the dairy co-op wants their booth right next to the goat milking demonstration, something that leads to more than a few awkward glances from the goats. (OAAS Convention)
How to find new sponsors
Then there’s the matter of vendors. Finding the right vendors is kind of like speed dating, except instead of “What’s your favorite movie?” you’re asking, “Are your deep-fried Mars bars gluten-free?” And while it’s great to have loyal vendors who show up year after year, there’s always that one who sets up a stall selling “innovative artisanal radish pickles” that taste suspiciously like the inside of your grandpa’s old barn boots. The selection committee will nod politely, nibble a few samples, and then spend the next hour consoling their stomachs with the blandest crackers known to mankind. (OAAS Convention)
Attracting great vendors
Volunteers, of course, are the lifeblood of any successful fair, but recruiting them can be trickier than coaxing a stubborn mule. Everyone has busy schedules, hockey practice, school plays, marathon knitting sessions, so the volunteer coordinator takes on the role of cheerleader, diplomat, and negotiator all at once. She’ll try everything from promising free T-shirts that may or may not have the correct year printed on them, to offering unlimited lemonade refills. Just don’t mention that the lemonade might be leftover from last season. Actually, that’s “vintage lemonade,” thank you very much.
Finding more volunteers
By the end of the OAAS convention weekend, the society members have a stack of glossy brochures, a phone stuffed with new contacts, and a few too many business cards from that very friendly gentleman who swears he can bring a hedgehog petting zoo to the fair. They’re exhausted, excited, and maybe a bit delirious. But they’ve got plans. Plans to make next year’s fair bigger, brighter, and somehow even more agricultural than ever before.
So much information to consider!
And so they drive home through the slushy February roads, already dreaming up the perfect event schedule: maybe a new lumberjack show, or a “Guess the Vegetable” contest, or even a technologically advanced pie auction with a live-streamed feed. Will it all come together smoothly by the time the first patch of mud appears in the spring? Probably not. But that’s the beauty of it. After a hundred years of organized chaos, they know that no matter what, the fair will go on, and somehow, it’ll be unforgettable. (OAAS Convention)
Planning the look of this year’s fair!
History of Agricultural Fairs
By Guy Scott, OAAS Past President
Fairs are almost as old as recorded history. There were two types of ancient fairs: trade shows and festivals. From the biblical “Fairs of Tyre” to Sturbridge Fair in medieval England, fairs were used as market places and carnivals. In the 1700’s the British crossed the agricultural improvement society with the traditional trade fair/carnival and agricultural fairs were born.
These agricultural fairs were transplanted to the colonies by the earliest British settlers. The concept of fairs soon flourished in agrarian North America. In Canada, the first agricultural society was formed in 1765 in Nova Scotia. Ontario followed suit in 1792 with the Agricultural Society of Upper Canada based at Niagara on the Lake. From the Ontario strongholds, the concept of agricultural fairs spread west with the first settlers.
After a few false starts, the system of agricultural societies and their fairs spread all over Ontario in the 1800’s. They were organized by county and township and at one time numbered over 500 in Ontario alone. While agricultural societies used many methods (of varying success) to improve agriculture and the rural lifestyle, their most enduring and endearing legacy was the agricultural fair. Industrial exhibitions and festivals came and went, but the fairs just carried on. Fairs soon became an ingrained part of Ontario’s (and indeed Canada’s) culture. They still are, in our society.
Fairs have changed since their inception, but they still carry on their mandate of promoting agriculture and the rural lifestyle.
Want to see modern tradition meet the modern world? Attend a fair!
