I’ve been waking up at 5 a.m. since I was twelve—farm life doesn’t wait. While my classmates Snapchatted lattes, I fed calves and hauled hay. They teased me—“Hay Girl,” “Bessie’s Bestie”—even teachers chuckled. I smelled like manure one morning after saving a calf, and all they did was wrinkle their noses. By graduation, I didn’t get a single party invite....