I intended to write about something totally different–children’s-book illustrators, to be specific. But that will have to wait. Right now I’m upset about corn.
Yesterday, in one of our nicest grocery stores (Sprouts), I got mad. The free-standing table holding ears of corn was abuzz with activity: five ears for a dollar! That’s a super price for corn this time of year.
So, I’m eagerly plowing over to the corn (no pun intended). But instead of finding a mound of green cylinders with brown tassels out the top, I find a heap of corn husks overflowing the table. I mean, a heap. “How odd!” I mumbled. “I’ve never seen corn displayed this way.”
Next to the corn stood a big trashcan filled with husks. After a moment (I’m slow this way), I figured it out. Apparently, the new thing must be to shuck one’s corn right on the spot. Then, chuck the whole mess of husks into a trash can, dripping it on the floor. But if that’s too hard, just leave the husks piled up on top of the other ears on the table.
My mother’s voice boomed in my head: “That is so rude!”
To find the actual corn, one had to fish through inches of discarded husks. I stopped mid-haul to watch customers fishing out their corn, and several doing exactly what I just described: shucking it, judging it, tossing the husks in the trash can, but mostly leaving husks on the pile. What a mess.
More surprising to me was watching folks reject the ears they didn’t like! Shuck, toss, oops, not perfect, drop the ear of corn, naked and rejected, destined to dry up, while the dissatisfied shopper moves on to strip another one.
I beg your pardon?
Now don’t blame the employees. They were making their rounds fastidiously. But there’s an awful lot of tidying-up that employees have to do in today’s stores. My daughter worked in a children’s resale shop. The mess left daily in the aisles and dressing rooms was awful. One staff member worked full-time just trying to keep basic order, and several employees spent two to three hours after closing to fix the day’s damage.
What is going on here? I’m from a generation that was taught to put things back on hangers, or else. And we did. We were also taught that, while it might be okay to take a half-inch peek into a single ear of corn to be sure the batch is okay (if there was a reason to doubt), it was far better to use one’s skill to select produce. You certainly didn’t go stripping every ear, tossing the husks on top of the pile, and leaving your rejects languishing.
I’m going to call this “entitlement shopping,” That’s it. Entitlement shopping. “It all needs to be perfect and it’s all for me!”
Furthermore, you don’t want each ear to look perfect. Looking perfect does not equal tasting great (which is why so many people who shop for the first time in other parts of the world are impressed by the delicious, imperfect-looking produce they buy). If you want each grain to look perfect, then buy frozen or canned corn.
There’s a moral line here. We live in a society that celebrates a “grab what you need and leave your mess for others” approach to far too many things. The worst manifestation of this credo comes during the post-Thanksgiving event appropriately named Black Friday. Clearly the corn rumpus isn’t as bad as grabbing a big-screen TV and knocking another person over in the process. But the core problem is the same.
The evidence of lost public courtesy pains many of us. And it hurts all of us. Not a day passes that we don’t see multiple incidents of public rudeness that would have been unthinkable a generation or two ago. As teachers and parents, we need to be just as keen to restore shared courtesy as we are to restore The Odyssey and Latin.
Another way of saying it might be this: if we can’t teach students to respect a bin of corn, hold open doors as a gesture of general politeness, or walk on the sidewalks, not the grass, then all of the Latin in the world isn’t going to help.
Furthermore, think of what those entitled corn-pluckers are missing—the art of enjoying corn! Select the corn. Take it home. Shuck it on the table or back porch where you’re supposed to shuck it. Sing funny songs while you do it. (No one was singing around the corn table in Sprouts.) Enjoy corn’s marvelous aroma. Tell stories about your childhood or teach kids a science lesson as you shuck. Pick the corn silks off your clothes. Boil the corn. If it’s not sweet enough, add a little sugar or honey to the water (that’s what my mother did).
And that’s the process. That’s how corn is meant to be treated. In fact, that is how most things are to be treated: with an appropriate process in an appropriate space. With appreciation and consideration for others.
Restoring the values and treasures of Western Culture is our noblest quest. It is an arduous one. But it is multi-faceted. So, read the classics, really learn math, and start Latin early. Teach the marvels of Brahms, Renoir, and Shakespeare.
But let’s also teach the kids to shop in a considerate manner and be grateful for the miracle of products that come, through the efforts of countless hands, so conveniently to our stores. And teach them to shuck their corn at home.
