A Study in Linguistics, Kansas Style

People here don't know what to do with my accent. They're certain I'm not from Kansas, but they just can't place my Appalachian twang.

"Oh, you must be from ... the South?"

"Actually I'm from Kingsport, Tennessee."

"Is that near Nashville?"

(Incidentally, Nashville is the only place in Tennessee most Kansans can identify. Unless you count the lady who said she had a relative who lives "somewhere in Tennessee with 'hollow' in the name." Poor thing. She clearly meant to say "holler." Even so, it doesn't narrow down the possibilities much, now does it?)

And yes, while I do have a noticeable Tennessee mountain twang and the folks here speak with the vanilla "General American" dialect, they have their own unique pronunciations for some things.

For example, when I say "El Dorado," it rhymes with Colorado. Not folks in Kansas. They say it with a long A, like "El Doraydo." I haven't heard anyone say Coloraydo yet, but it's hard to work that word into the course of everyday conversation. I'll keep trying though.

Same with Delano, the Old Town  portion of Wichita where raucous, randy cowboys used to blow off steam after driving cattle along the Chisholm Trail. I say Delano like FDR's middle name. Wichitans say De-lay-no.

Also, there's a lake just west of Wichita called the Cheney Reservoir. If it were me, I would say it like the former vice president's last name - "chainy." Not the case among locals. It's the Chinny Reservoir. I haven't been there yet. It might be filled with chins, which would then make more sense.

The chins must be underwater.

But as pronunciation faux pas go, the biggest mistake you can make in Kansas is calling the Arkansas River by the wrong name. Seems like most people are pretty clear on how to say Arkansas. Three syllables with the emphasis on the "Ar," right?

Wrong. In Kansas, it's the Ar-KANSAS River. They so desperately want to pretend that first "Ar" just doesn't exist. I guess they want to believe the river belongs solely to the state of Kansas. Alas, the Arkansas flows not just through Kansas, but through three other states on its way to the Mississippi River. So try as they might, Kansans just can't lay claim to it.

 That's the ArKANSAS River to you, hillbilly.

But you know, I get it. I really do. I hail from an area of the world that's consistently, and irritatingly, mispronounced by people who don't live there. We natives of the southern Appalachians say the name of our mountain range correctly. For the record, it's Appalatchun, not Appalayshun.

Quite honestly, this seemingly subtle difference in vowel usage irks me. That's why I think it's important for newcomers to say things the way locals do. So, if the kind folks in Wichita want me to call their little river the ArKANSAS, I'm quite happy to oblige.