Hoosiers

My husband and I were both born in Indiana. His parents, however, were not from Indiana. His childhood was not one of Hoosier indoctrination. My parents and all of my grandparents were born in Indiana and died in Indiana. Plus, when I say Indiana, I am not referring to just any where in Indiana. I am talking about the Tri-County area where the three rivers meet----the Maumee, the Saint Marys, and the Saint Joseph. For example as children, we (meaning myself, my sibling and all my cousins) were told that we did not have to worry about tornadoes touching down near Fort Wayne because Indian lore said that tornadoes did not touch down where three rivers meet. Imagine my trepidation my first Spring attending Purdue University during tornado season. I only had the Wabash and the Tippecanoe Rivers to protect me.

Of course now my worldly self understands why people laughed when the writers of MASH made the home town of Frank Burns be Fort Wayne, Indiana. You know the city named for a “Mad” general. I even understood why it was humorous for the writers of FAMILY AFFAIR to have the twins, Jody and Buffy, be retrieved from Terre Haute to live with a sophisticated, rich uncle. David Letterman has always used his Hoosier roots to evoke laughs. But where does this new slamming of Indiana come from? What makes shows like THE MIDDLE and PARKS AND RECREATION so widely appealing and funny? Does America laugh at these two shows because the characters represent the stereotypical people living in flyover country? Considering the way Hollywood views Indiana, it is a good thing that Mitch Daniels decided not to run for President of the United States, but instead became President of Purdue University. He might have suffered the same fate as Dan Quayle.

I have to admit that I do enjoy and laugh at THE MIDDLE and PARKS AND RECREATION. There are times though during an episode when I stop. Hey, I know why a particular reference is funny, but why would someone who has never experienced Indiana think that reference was funny? For example, the names assigned to the children of the Hecht family from THE MIDDLE. Each name has a definite Hoosier connotation. Axle is for Axle Rose, Brick is for the Brickyard, and everybody in Indiana has a Sue in their family. Has the media and Hollywood targeted Hoosiers to be the poster children to represent what it is like to be “blue collar,” “three bedroom,” “factory worker”Americans?

American Regional English

Seeing a story in the local newspaper about the American Regional English dictionary made me think about the fact that I have lived in Wilmington, North Carolina for 34 years. However, no one would ever mistake me for a native of this region. With only those initial 21 years in Fort Wayne, Indiana, I still at the age of 68 sound like a Hoosier. Believe me, I have tried hard not to sound like I came from Fort Wayne. Early on I tried to erase some of the flagrant mispronunciations like “warshcloth,” “Warshington, DC,” “Illinoise,” or “Massatusess.”

It wasn't until I landed at Purdue University that I found out that things were not “boughten” or ”brand new.” It was a move to Pittsfield, Massachusetts in 1968 that taught me that a green bell pepper was not a mango. Imagine being at a GE Wives Club meeting for new MMP's and trying to exchange recipes. I had to ask what a bell pepper was to start with and they didn't understand why I would be putting a mango in a recipe for sloppy joes. Such come-up-pances actually drove me to look up the word mango in an unabridged dictionary. It turns out that the term mango was a colloquial term used in the midwest for “sweet pepper.” I knew that I had seen MANGO written on a produce sign above those green peppers at our local Kroger store when I was growing up.

Fortunately for the last 32 years I have taught along side some kind folks who have tolerated my “Hoosierisms.” You know the regular things like “carmel” verses caramel. However, one of my speech patterns drove a colleague to finally speak up. She could not stand to hear me stick a “t” on the end of the word “across” any longer. It was so ingrained with me that I didn't even hear it. However, when she so sweetly shared with me, I worked very hard to rectify the situation because I used that word a lot within her earshot. It was part of my vernacular for giving letter formation directions to young children. One time a student's parent overheard me correct myself. The parent said that her husband left Fort Wayne, Indiana when he was ten and he still sticks the “t” on the end of “across.”

Even though I still hold on to some of my old speech patterns, I have become comfortable with “cutting “ off the lights and “carrying” my child to dance class. Plus, I know to ask for soda instead of “pop” with my hamburger.