Just outside of Roland, on a stretch of land bordered by rolling hills and winding streams, you’ll find Mike Sanders in his element: among his cattle, tending to the land, and passing on knowledge from a lifetime in agriculture.

After spending more than 30 years teaching agriculture in Fort Smith, Sanders retired last year. But rather than slow down, he’s focused his energy on ranching full-time and mentoring the next generation of ranchers in Sequoyah County.

His connection to the land runs deep, rooted in the same Oklahoma soil his family has worked for generations.

“I’ve been in boots since I could walk,” he jokes. “Farming and ranching are in my blood. It’s hard work, but it’s a good life.”

During his teaching career, Sanders introduced hundreds of students to the world of agriculture. From learning about crop rotation and soil science, to the ins and outs of livestock management, his classes were as hands-on as they come.

“There’s only so much you can learn from a textbook,” Sanders says. “You’ve got to get your hands dirty to really understand the land.”

Now that he’s no longer in the classroom, Sanders has turned his attention to his own herd of cattle. His days are spent tending to the herd, repairing fences, and managing pastures— tasks he’s been doing for most of his life. But even in retirement, his love of teaching hasn’t faded. Instead of formal lessons, he’s taken on a more personal role as a mentor to aspiring ranchers in the area.

“You can’t really retire from ranching,” he says with a laugh. “The cows don’t care if you’re 18 or 65—they still need to be fed. But I’ve got more time now to help the younger folks who are just getting started, and I enjoy that part of it.”

While Sanders no longer stands in front of a classroom full of students, he’s found a new way to teach—out in the fields, talking through the challenges of ranching with young men and women eager to follow in his footsteps.

“A lot of these kids are fired up about ranching, which is great, but they’re still green. Ranching is a marathon, not a sprint. It takes time, patience, and learning from your mistakes,” he said.

Sanders doesn’t sugarcoat the realities of the ranching life. He tells his mentees that the work is hard and the hours are long, with challenges like drought, market fluctuations, and animal health always around the corner.

“One thing I always tell them is that cattle don’t operate on a 9-to-5 schedule,” he says with a grin. “You’ve got to be ready for whatever comes your way—middle of the night, freezing cold, or in the middle of a downpour.”

One of his mentees, a young rancher named Tyler, recalls how Sanders helped him through his first calving season.

“I didn’t know what I was doing, and Mike came over in the middle of the night when one of my cows was having trouble,” Tyler says. “He’s got so much experience. He calmed me down, showed me what to do, and we got through it. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”

His mentorship goes beyond just technical advice. Sanders also imparts valuable life lessons that come from years of hard work and dedication.

“Ranching teaches you responsibility, resilience, and how to deal with setbacks,” he says. “You learn real quick that you can’t control everything, but you do your best with what you’ve got.”

Despite his decades of experience, Sanders admits he’s still learning, and that’s something he tries to instill in the younger ranchers.

“You never stop learning in this business,” he says. “Every day’s a new challenge, and if you think you’ve got it all figured out, that’s when things start going wrong.”

Although Sanders is enjoying the slower pace of retirement, he can’t imagine a life without ranching.

“I get to spend more time with my cows now, and that’s fine by me,” he says with a chuckle. “There’s something about working with the land and animals that keeps you grounded.”

Sanders also feels a deep sense of responsibility to keep the ranching tradition alive, especially in a world that’s becoming increasingly disconnected from its agricultural roots.

“We need young people in this industry,” he says. “There’s so much knowledge and tradition that needs to be passed down. I want to do my part to make sure this way of life doesn’t disappear.”

As Sanders moves through his fields, checking on his cattle and repairing a fence post here and there, it’s clear that even in retirement, his love for ranching hasn’t wavered. For him, it’s more than just a job—it’s a calling. And with each new generation of ranchers he mentors, Sanders ensures that the lessons he’s learned over a lifetime continue to shape the future of agriculture in Sequoyah County.