I Am a Black Kansan in a Sea of Red, White, and Blue
To be a POC Midwesterner is to be steeped in a rich and magical history
“You sound funny, where you from?” “What the hell kinda accent is that?” “Wait, say that again!” That’s how it starts, usually after I speak for the first time in a new setting with people who I’ve never met.
The questions are relatively harmless, and the sharp fascination with my cadence and the rhythm of my mumbling meter can be amusing. Sometimes I indulge these requests for linguistic gymnastics, letting words roll off my tongue as I juggle letters like a circus performer, swapping them back and forth, cutting them out entirely or forcing them in where they weren’t before.
For example, you can pick pecans, but when you bake them with a crust, it’s PEE-CAN pie. Also, there’s an R in “wash.” Webster and Siri will deny it, but where I’m from, we wedge it in after the A.
Sometimes I indulge these questions. Usually, I take a breath and brace myself for what I know is coming next.
Hi, my name is Elle, and I’m a Black woman born and raised in Kansas City, Kansas.
