Thoughts on Dialects

It seems that everyone in Arizona came here to escape somewhere else. And, why not? Arizona rocks.

When I lived in Tempe and people asked where I was from, I answered, “Kansas,” the following question was almost always, “Oh, where in Kansas?”.

No one actually knows “where” things are in Kansas. As the “Two by Four State,” it measures only 211 miles by 417 miles. If you know one town, you know all towns. And, in most cases, if you know one town, it’s only because you’ve lived there.

But, I’ve always participated in the conversation, with the bizarre hope that this time the person cam from where I used to live. “A small town in South-Central Kansas,” I’d say, baiting them. Only if they responded with “Oh, near________ (Liberal, Great Bend, hell, even ‘the Oklahoma border’)” the conversation could continue.

When I traveled Phoenix, northern AZ, and Las Vegas for Tae Kwon Do tournaments, the question was more easily answered by the lettering stitched to my back. I represented the Tempe branch of Lee’s Black Belt Academy.

One recent Vegas trip, I was asked by a bartender where I was from, “Pre-skit,” I said.

“You must’ve been born and raised there, huh? You say it like a local. It’s spelled Pre-scott.”

“I grew up in Kansas,” I said shortly, turning from the bar with my rum and coke. I mulled over the question of when I started pronouncing Prescott like a pro. I just did, at some point in the last two and a half years.

It’s easier to pick up on dialectical differences and adopt them than explain where I’m from every time I use the word “supper,” pronounce “orange” without an “r,” or make “roots” sound like “ruts”.

Majoring in interdisciplinary studies, I studied a little bit of everything as an undergrad. I blame/thank my brief love affair with linguistics for the alterations I’ve made to my Kansan speech habits.

I had no trouble completing a regional dialect project in my linguistics classes. I’d simply call home and make note of things that I recognized I’d changed in my own speech. Dad says, “roded,” as in “I roded the tractor just down the road.” Roo puts an “r” in “wash.” And, lastly, mom will forever use the word “dinner” to mean a noon-time meal and “supper” to mean an evening meal. My professor found my report charming.  I have to say that I feel the same about my home state.

I’ve been out of Kansas for about four and a half years now. And, it’s time.  It’s just time to go home for a little while.

So, around the start of the year, I’ll be re-learning how to use “dinner” and “supper” properly, so as not to confuse meal times. I’ll probably go back to leaving the “r” out of “orange” and stick it right back in the word “wash”.

I guess you could say that I’m going back to my ruts. And, I couldn’t be happier.