Local & National News | May 12, 2025
Written By Derek Hawn
When I look at Tennessee’s state seal, I see more than just old words and symbols. “Agriculture” and “Commerce” aren’t simply history lessons, they’re the backbone of our communities and the foundation of our state’s prosperity. But as Tennessee faces the fallout from the sudden loss of $37.7 million in federal grants to the University of Tennessee system, I have to ask: Are we living up to the promise etched into our seal, or are we letting it become just another empty slogan?
The words “Agriculture” and “Commerce” on our state seal represent more than tradition. They are a daily reality for hundreds of thousands of Tennesseans. Agriculture supports over 360,000 jobs and generates nearly $90 billion for our state’s economy every year. Nearly 40% of Tennessee’s land is farmland, and 98% of our farms are family-owned. These aren’t just statistics, they’re the livelihoods of our neighbors, the food on our tables, and the economic engine of our rural towns.
Commerce, too, is woven into the fabric of our region. From the busy streets of Chattanooga, the shops in Cleveland, the markets in Athens, to the family-owned stores in Oak Ridge, Sweetwater, Wartburg, and Caryville, commerce is what connects our agricultural bounty to families, schools, and communities. The seal is a reminder that when we support agriculture and commerce, we support the very heart of Tennessee.
Last week, the University of Tennessee system lost $37.65 million in federal grant funding, a blow that hit the Institute of Agriculture hardest, with $31.19 million in terminated grants. Across the system, 42 grants were revoked, halting research, outreach, and community programs that have long served as lifelines for our state’s farmers, students, and families. At UT Chattanooga, more than a million dollars in unspent grant money vanished, putting critical projects on hold and leaving faculty and staff in a desperate search for new funding.
The impact of these cuts is not abstract. These grants funded everything from agricultural research and public health initiatives to food bank partnerships and community outreach. For years, they helped connect Tennessee farmers to local markets and food banks, supported new farming techniques, and fostered innovation in everything from crop science to rural healthcare. Now, with those resources gone, the programs that once allowed food banks to buy fresh produce and meat from local farms are shuttered. Food banks can no longer buy from Tennessee farmers, cutting off a vital source of income for producers and leaving more families to rely on canned goods and dry staples.
For many people in our district, especially those just starting out or running small family farms, these partnerships were more than helpful, they were essential. Losing grant funding means fewer opportunities to get products to market and more anxiety about the future. Some farmers, counting on these grants, even took out loans to invest in their operations. Now, with funding frozen or canceled, those farmers are left holding the bag, facing mounting debts and dwindling hope.
But the pain doesn’t stop at the farm gate. When farmers lose income, the local businesses they support, like feed stores in Sweetwater, equipment suppliers in Cleveland, or diners in Kingston, feel the pinch. Jobs in our rural towns are at risk, and the loss of these grants means less support for new farming methods and conservation efforts. That’s bad news not just for today’s crops, but for the long-term health of our land and water. If we want to keep Tennessee’s soil fertile and our rivers clean for future generations, we can’t afford to let these programs disappear.
Food banks are also taking a hit. With less fresh, local food available, they’re forced to hand out more canned goods and dry staples. With grocery prices climbing, that makes it even harder for families to put healthy meals on the table. The loss of these local partnerships only makes food insecurity worse for people across our state. Over 40% of Tennessee families with children now report being food insecure, a crisis that is only deepening as support systems unravel.
What frustrates me most is not just the loss of funding, but the lack of real leadership from our elected officials. Congressman Chuck Fleischmann, Senator Marsha Blackburn, and Senator Bill Hagerty are always quick to praise Tennessee farmers and rural communities when the cameras are rolling. But when this crisis hit, where were they?
Despite holding powerful positions and frequently touting their support for “the backbone of our state,” none of these leaders stepped up with a public plan to restore the lost federal funding or to protect the programs that keep our agricultural and research communities strong. Fleischmann, as chair of the Energy and Water Appropriations Subcommittee, has shown he can advocate fiercely for certain federal projects, just not for the grants that sustain Tennessee’s agricultural research and rural outreach. Blackburn and Hagerty, too, have made headlines for disaster relief requests and regulatory battles, but when it came time to fight for Tennessee’s agricultural future, they offered little more than silence and vague statements.
Their inaction isn’t just disappointing, it’s a choice that leaves Tennessee’s farmers, students, and families vulnerable. When the people we elect to represent us fail to step up in a crisis, it’s not just a political failure, it’s a failure of basic responsibility. The state seal isn’t just a decoration, it’s a reminder of what matters most, and right now, our leaders are not living up to it.
This isn’t just about numbers on a page. It’s about real people, farmers, students, workers, and families, who are losing opportunities and support. These grant cuts threaten the livelihoods of those who have always formed the backbone of Tennessee. I’ve sat at kitchen tables with fifth-generation farmers wondering if they’ll survive the year. I’ve met UT students whose research projects, once hopeful solutions for rural healthcare, are now gathering dust. These aren’t just “budget cuts.” They’re broken promises.
The loss of these grants also undermines innovation and progress. Tennessee’s agricultural sector has long been a leader in adopting new technologies and sustainable practices, thanks in part to university-led research and outreach. Without federal support, these advancements slow to a crawl, putting our state at a disadvantage in a rapidly changing world.
Meanwhile, the ripple effects spread. Local businesses lose customers, conservation efforts stall, and food insecurity grows. The fabric of our rural communities, already stretched thin by economic pressures and population decline, frays even further. And as trust in government erodes, so does the sense of shared purpose that has always defined Tennessee at its best.
As a resident of Morgan County and a candidate for Congress in Tennessee’s 3rd District, I believe it’s time we turn the words “Agriculture” and “Commerce” on our state seal into real action. That means holding our current leaders accountable when they fail to act and making sure we protect Tennessee’s agricultural heritage, support our universities, and secure our economic future, for those who work the land, for our students, and for every family who depends on it.
We need to restore these grants, but we also need to rebuild trust and invest in a system that values farmers as much as factories, and communities as much as corporations. Our soil, our families, and our future depend on it.
The loss of $37.7 million in federal grants is a wake-up call. It threatens the livelihoods of farmers, the future of students, and the well-being of families across Tennessee. If Tennessee is to live up to the promise of “Agriculture and Commerce,” we must do more than honor our past. We must invest boldly in our present and future. That means demanding more from our leaders, supporting our universities, and ensuring that the backbone of our state, our farmers and our communities, have the resources they need to thrive.
The state seal’s promise is not just a relic of history. It’s a call to action. Let’s make sure we answer it.
