By Alissa Haskins, ASU sustainable food systems graduate student
This year’s Model USDA simulation was an opportunity to learn from students from 30 different institutions about how policy is really shaped. What began as a class exercise quickly became a hands-on lesson on how to collaborate and build relationships to support communities that need it most. Over the course of two days, policy stopped feeling abstract and instead started feeling personal.
As a journalist in "Scenario D: Investing in Rural America”, I had a front-row seat to how decisions were shaped when everyone has a seat at the table. Coming from Washington, DC, my idea of the issues facing rural communities was vague and didn’t include the whole picture. However, as the simulation went on I learned how unsafe drinking water, lack of hospital infrastructure, access to housing, and limited support for farmers deeply impact rural America. As a journalist, my job was to dig deeper into these inequities and to ask questions, conduct interviews, and report on the evolving funding negotiations. That role forced me to slow down and truly listen and understand what motivated each person in the room, and what they were willing to compromise.
Early on, we heard from former USDA Deputy Under Secretary Gloria Montaño Greene about using your voice strategically. Her comment about the “squeaky wheel” being the one that gets heard stayed with me throughout the event. It wasn’t framed as encouragement to be loud for the sake of it, but as a reminder that policy spaces reward persistence. If rural communities are not consistently represented in conversations about funding, their priorities slip down the list.
I saw that dynamic play out in real time. Some stakeholders organized visible demonstrations to keep rural issues at the forefront. Others built quieter coalitions, comparing notes and aligning messaging to strengthen their proposals. There were also moments of tension. Competing priorities, limited funding, and difficult compromises created points of contention, but also moments for collaboration. Progress didn’t happen because everyone suddenly agreed; it happened because people stayed at the table and kept conversations going.
From the start, Scenario D focused on rural development funding. What quickly became clear was how often rural needs are treated as secondary. In conversations, I heard stakeholders describe communities without reliable clean water or modern waste systems. Others talked about areas with no nearby healthcare providers, or families competing for a handful of safe and affordable homes. At the same time, these same communities are producing much of our nation’s food and sustaining local economies. That tension sat at the center of our discussions.
The complexity of federal funding was a learning curve. Navigating eligibility rules, timelines, and administrative barriers made it clear why so many communities struggle to access support, even when funds exist. Our discussions about tools like the Commodity Credit Corporation shifted perspectives in the room. Federal funding is often associated with rigidity and bureaucracy, but we saw how it can be flexible if people understand how to use them strategically and push for community-driven approaches.
As I drafted recaps and interviewed stakeholders throughout the two days, I became more aware of the power of narrative. More than once, someone would ask me, “What are you hearing from others?” or “What seems to be resonating?” I realized that even in a simulation, journalists influence momentum. The questions I asked shaped how participants framed their priorities. The themes I highlighted in my reporting helped determine what felt urgent. It made me reflect on how media coverage in the real world can either elevate rural voices or unintentionally sideline them.
By the end of the second day, there was a different energy in the room. Not everything had been resolved, and not every priority was fully funded. But rural housing, water infrastructure, healthcare access, and local food systems were woven into the final funding package in ways they hadn’t been at the beginning. What ended up being approved by the student role-playing as the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture was the result of coordinated advocacy, strategic communication, and a willingness to collaborate across differences.
What made the experience exciting was the momentum as ideas took off. You could feel when an idea started gaining traction. You could sense when a coalition had successfully shifted the conversation. As a journalist, I wasn’t a direct decision-maker, but I was deeply engaged in documenting those shifts and understanding how they happened.
For me, one of the biggest takeaways was that rural communities do not lack ideas or commitment. What they often lack is sustained access to power. Model USDA didn’t present policy change as seamless, but it showed that collaboration is key. Power is shaped by stakeholders who organize, journalists who amplify, and coalitions that refuse to let issues fade from view.
By the end of the event, rural development no longer felt like an abstract policy field. It became clear that rural communities are at the heart of our food systems, local economies, and infrastructure that supports everyday life across the country. Model USDA reinforced that investing in rural America isn’t optional, it’s imperative.
This blog is part of a series written by Arizona State University (ASU) graduate students who role-played as journalists in Model USDA 2026, a multi-day simulation hosted by the Swette Center for Sustainable Food Systems at ASU.