Engaged to a Puerto Rican Diary: Gabe’s Cornfield Revelation
For anyone growing up in the Midwest, cornfields are more than just a backdrop—they’re a part of life and a powerful staple of the region. Corn is a major crop here, bringing benefits beyond the kitchen table. It’s a key ingredient in everything from shampoo and toothpaste to marshmallows, crayons, and paper. It fuels our cars in the form of ethanol, feeds livestock as the primary feed grain in the U.S., and even contributes to local weather. Corn plants release water vapor through evapotranspiration, which increases humidity and can lead to more rain. Plus, corn and soybeans dominate Midwest farmland, covering 75% of the region's arable land. So yes, corn is a big deal around here!
With all that in mind, you can imagine how different our perspectives were when Gabe, a Puerto Rican city boy through and through, saw his first true cornfield.
For me, cornfields represented four things:
A reminder to slow down on backcountry roads to avoid getting T-boned by cars coming from the opposite direction. Those towering corn stalks create “blind corners” like no other!
An emergency pit stop. When you’re on the road with my dad, who’s always full speed ahead, you quickly learn that the nearest cornfield is the go-to “restroom.”
A source of sweet corn is so fresh you could practically eat it right in the middle of the field. Nothing beats picking an ear straight off the stalk and tasting that crisp sweetness right then and there.
And, believe it or not, a perfect tug-of-war toy for my dogs. They’d love grabbing a stray stalk and playing with it for hours.
So, imagine my surprise when Gabe and I were driving through New York one fall, and he spotted a dried field of corn from the car window. His comment? “Oh, that’s like the corn people use for decoration.” I burst out laughing! It was just too good. All this time, his thought of cornfields were mostly for eating corn on the cob, popcorn, and autumn decorations; a backdrop for pumpkins and hay bales in Fall. It was clear he needed a hands-on Midwest experience.
So, I pulled the car over, determined to give him a little “corn tutorial.” I grabbed a brown, dried stalk, peeled away the husk and silk, and handed it to him. I showed him how to twist the kernels off, letting him feel the rough texture in his hands. My Midwest friends know what I’m talking about—there’s something satisfying about breaking down an ear of corn that city life just doesn’t prepare you for. Watching Gabe’s face as he held that corn was priceless! He finally got to see where popcorn comes from, and I could tell he had a newfound appreciation for the “decorative” corn he’d been seeing.
It was one of those moments where our worlds met in a way that was both hilarious and heartwarming. Seeing Gabe connect with something so deeply rooted in my life felt special. It was a small but meaningful experience—a reminder of how unique our backgrounds are, and how much we’re still learning from each other every day. 🌽😄
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