Corn Mothers

PHILOSOPHY

My philosophy developed over time. I often say my life has been a pleasant surprise. At 74, I have had the opportunity to reflect on my experiences. “It’s not where you come from; it’s where you want to go and what you want to do.”

I graduated high school at 17. At 18, I became a VISTA Volunteer and received an airline ticket to Chicago. My training included critical thinking, which has been helpful in all my work. The world looks different when you begin to question assumptions, systems, and expectations. Learning to ask “why” became my life mantra.

Higher education was the greatest gift I ever gave myself. I paid for my education by having a small student loan, working part-time, and receiving grants and scholarships. My studies included Spanish, Sociology, and Chicano Studies at CU Boulder; Spanish at the University of Veracruz, Mexico; Business at Regis University, Denver; and Curriculum and Instruction at Colorado State University, Fort Collins. These opened doors I never thought possible and gave me tools to navigate institutions that once felt out of reach.

Volunteering and giving are values my grandparents and parents instilled in me, which are still central to me. My VISTA work made a genuine impact in the community and taught me the difference volunteerism can make. As long as there is hunger, unheard voices, and marginalized communities, we have work to do. My commitment is to use my education, voice, and experience to uplift others.

My Corn Parents, Rodolfo and Guadalupe Peña

My parents were always there for us. Dad was our provider, and Mom raised us and managed the home. As agricultural workers, raising nine children wasn’t easy. Dad taught us the importance of hard work and the value of money. Mom was our nurturer and cheerleader. They modeled respect, humility, commitment, integrity, hard work, and tradition. I have tried to live by these lessons, which helped give us a happy childhood.

Agriculture anchored our lives. In spring, after being cooped up in our small home with Mom, Dad, and nine kids, we had freedom. We could enjoy the outdoors, wander around our town, and simply be kids.

Dad had only a kindergarten education, but he worked hard to keep us comfortably fed, housed, and clothed. As a migrant worker, he harvested crops. After marrying Mom and settling down, he planted corn, beans, and beets for local farmers each spring and learned the full agricultural cycle, from seeding to harvesting.

After long hours on a tractor, Dad would come home exhausted, his back aching, so the younger kids took off his work boots for him. We loved helping him unwind after a hard day. Mom provided a hot meal, including his favorite Mexican food and a fresh molcajete chile.

Each spring, Dad planted a big garden. He hadn’t been a gardener, but our Grandpa, Rafael Infante, was an excellent one and taught him. It became a friendly competition to see who could grow the best garden.

Our family looked forward to what the garden had to offer. Dad loved planning, preparing the soil, planting, and harvesting. Then, it was Mom’s turn. She picked us fresh vegetables for meals and kept produce for fall canning. She assigned us jobs, such as which kids would water, weed, and do other tasks. We were always happy to help when it was our turn. It was fun because it was the only time we could play in the water and walk barefoot in the mud. Back then, we didn’t understand how much love my parents put into these things, but I do now!

Mom kept us well fed. In spring, she bought and raised 100 chicks, something she learned about from Grandpa Infante. She slaughtered and froze them so we’d have chicken for the winter. It was a lot of work! We were her helpers, and she patiently taught us everything we needed to know. Later, we joked that we ate lots of fancy food when we were young because it was cheap. Grandpa often brought us ducks, geese, hares, doves, venison, and pheasants.

In the summer of 1964, I turned 12 and could legally do fieldwork. My sister Lupe was 13. We were surprised when we were told to get ready: we would be thinning and cleaning beets and other crops for the summer, wearing long pants, white shirts, hats, and gloves. At first, we protested and wanted to wear shorts, but we quickly appreciated the protection from the hot sun. Mom and Dad told us they were proud of us for helping.

Mom had worked in the fields since she was 10 or 11, after leaving school in the sixth grade. She taught us how to thin and clean the beets. The hours were long, from 7:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. The work was exhausting because most fields covered at least 12 acres, and the rows were one-quarter to one-half mile long. My sister Esther, 11, stayed home to care for the younger children. Mom said she was proud of her, too.

It was tiring work, but Mom made it feel lighter by singing us songs and sharing fascinating stories about our family history. When we went home around noon, she made lunch. Those of us who worked in the fields rested a little, went back, and worked until dusk, along with Mom. Although she spent many hours working in the hot sun, she came home, made supper, and continued her daily responsibilities of caring for us and maintaining the household. I don’t know how she had enough energy to do all that work. It definitely showed her love and commitment to the family, a value that I have made part of my own life.

Even though the work was hard, hot, and tedious, I can genuinely say we had fun with Mom and got to know her at a level beyond her role as just a mother. She also became our friend and someone we could always confide in throughout the rest of our lives.

Fall meant we would return to school. It was Mom’s favorite season, time to can and freeze food for the winter. She canned an assortment of fruits, jams, jellies, vegetables, and meat. The table was covered with sterilized jars and lids. By the end of the season, the basement shelves were lined with gleaming jars. I remember how Mom would invite company downstairs to see her display of colorful jars of canned goods on the shelves and in the freezer. It was only years later that we kids came to appreciate the depth of her hard work and unwavering dedication in raising such a large family.

Along with working at the local sugar factory, Dad helped prepare our meat supply for the winter. He and Grandpa Infante would slaughter and butcher a pig in our garage to stock the freezer. Dad kept half, and Grandpa took the other half. From the local meat market, Dad also bought a side of packaged beef. He made sure we always had enough beef and pork, and Mom provided the chicken we needed for the winter months.

Dad was very manly, but he loved flowers, which were his pride and joy. After a long day of work, he’d head straight outside to water them. Our yard, filled with beautiful flowers, was his wonderful contribution to making our home beautiful. We so much appreciated his hard work, both in the fields and in the garden! As his children, we have inherited his love of flowers, and we always think of him when we plant our gardens.

My parents taught me about giving and caring for others. My favorite story about Dad’s benevolence is that one day, he took trash to the dump and found a man from Mexico living there. He asked the man to come home with him. Mom gave him extra clothes and fed him. Dad took him to the next town over, Julesburg, which had housing for single men, and he found a job. Years later, the man Dad had helped showed up from Kansas to thank him for what he had done. I have learned from my parents’ examples to serve those in need. I have learned from their acts of kindness, which showed us kids that we, too, have a responsibility to give back to the community.

My mother was the love and heart that held us all together. Even now that she’s passed, we still have family get-togethers because “that’s what Mom would want.” If you ask anyone about her, they'll tell you she was a very warm person who easily made friends with everyone. She was also known as a great cook. When someone arrived, the first thing she asked was, “What would you like to eat?” When asked why she fed everyone, she answered humbly, “I don’t have anything to give but a good meal.” Her favorite saying was “Do what you gotta do!” My mother was very religious, so what that meant was, do the right thing. I’ve made that a part of my life.

My parents’ commitment to family was unwavering and deeply rooted in love, sacrifice, and responsibility. Dad showed his devotion through tireless physical labor—working in the fields, at the sugar factory, and at home—ensuring that we were always fed, housed, and clothed. He modeled discipline, work ethic, generosity, and quiet strength. Mom anchored our home with her nurturing. She fed not only our bodies but our spirits, preserved food for the winter, raised animals, worked beside us in the fields, and still found energy to sing, tell stories, and guide us morally and spiritually. Together, they taught us respect for family, compassion for others, faith, resilience, and the importance of doing what is right. Their example created a foundation of stability, generosity, and love that continues to shape our lives today.

Mom and Dad gave me a rich and enduring foundation on which to build my life. They taught me respect for family, compassion for others, faith, resilience, commitment, and the importance of doing what is right. Their examples laid the foundation for the choices I have made and guided the paths I chose. It is my hope that future generations will find strength in the legacy of strong family roots and charity, passed down to them from my Corn Mother, Guadalupe Peña, and my Corn Father, Rodolfo Peña.

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