Spring | 2026
Rooted in the Land
"Don't just think that you're perfect and that you're going to go throughout life without failure." — Kody Bergbower

Kody Bergbower grew up knowing what his last name means in Jasper County. "As long as I've known my last name, Bergbower, if you look around Jasper County, farming is what you probably think of." His paternal grandfather farms alongside his son. His maternal grandparents' farm in Dundas — different operation, but if they call needing help, the Bergbowers come. His father is in the middle of it all. Kody intends to be there too.
He's a senior at Newton Community High School, an Illinois State Scholar, and heading to Lake Land College in the fall to study agricultural business and agronomy. His older brother — also a State Scholar — is already at Lake Land. Kody is following him, which carries its own weight. "It's like following my brother. It's always been competitive, kind of like my whole family." He paused before adding, "He is one of the smarter people I know in life. I definitely say for sure. I never admit that to him." He'd just told 5,700 magazine readers instead.
The State Scholar recognition traces back further than high school. In junior high, he earned the highest honors recognition. His mother has been pushing him toward that standard his whole life — "she's always been there for me, always pushed me to further myself" — alongside his dad and both grandfathers, who Kody calls two of the hardest working people he knows.
At Newton, basketball has been his anchor. Four years playing, two as team captain, three lettered in varsity. It's the only sport he plays, and he gives it his full attention. "I really like it, I really enjoy it, and I focus a lot on it." What draws him: "Just the competitiveness and the team building. It just lights that spark inside of me."
The team this season is a little above .500 — they hit a slump after snow days disrupted their rhythm. But they played Teutopolis, the second-ranked team in their class in the state, and lost by four. "It was a great game." He still believes in what's ahead: "I see high expectations for us as we keep going."
Basketball built something beyond the scoreboard. Being put in pressure situations, making rapid decisions, learning to perform when things go wrong — "you feel more confident in what you do," he said. "It gives you a sense of confidence, I guess." That confidence also came from learning to absorb failure. "You're gonna fail at least once, multiple times probably. You just gotta deal with it, learn from it, and expect it. Don't just think that you're perfect and that you're gonna go throughout life without failure."
Most of his school time beyond basketball is in the ag wing — with the Tarr brothers and Lidy upstairs. The teachers who round out his VIP list include Tim Bower for math — "he really connects with his students" — and Principal Mrs. Probst, whom he praised genuinely: "She has always pushed us, and she's given us every opportunity possible."
His plan after Lake Land is to work at the Equity, the regional agricultural co-op his family already relies on for spraying, feed, ammonia, and pesticides. "Pretty much anything you need." The goal isn't to escape the farm — it's to understand it more completely. "That way, when I get older, I can help my dad out more and take over once he gets too old."
He came to Newton from St. Thomas Catholic School — a class of about 19 or 20 kids he'd known his whole life. He'd heard the quiet assumption that the Catholic school kids and the public junior high kids were two different tribes. He found it completely wrong. "These kids from the junior high — they're such good kids. And I've made friends with so many of them. I came from a small class of 19 or 20, and then came here, and you meet 70 new faces. It's a really fun experience."
The younger siblings — a brother and a sister — are watching him the way he once watched his older brother. He tries to play the role. With his little brother's homework: "I try not to help him, but eventually I will, because I feel like he could probably do it by himself." Which, as Craig pointed out, is its own form of helping.
Senior year hasn't fully landed yet. "It hasn't really set in. I have four months left here." When it does, he thinks what he'll remember most is the new friendships — the ones that formed when two different schools merged into one, and nobody turned out to be who they'd been told the other was.
And the land will still be there.
