- Overview
- Digital Stories--Autoethnography
- Digital Stories
- ethnographic analysis & cultural traditions
- ethnography, fieldwork, and participant observation
- cultural variation and similarity
- cultural change and continuity
- cultural systems
- holism: concepts of culture
- globalization
Anthropologists have studied humankind all over the world for hundreds of years. Even before the scientific studies of humankind began people were curious about other peoples around them. Travel is quite an educator. Anthropologists' fieldwork has been instrumental in helping us see ourselves from worldwide perspectives.
Dr. Linda Davis-Stephens, Instructor

Student Digital Storytelling
Your posted work here is a personal, virtual reflection on geography, your sense of place in the world today and/or the past/future locations important to you. Your posted work will be public, indefinitely, on the internet.
There are quides to digital storytelling online at places like
http://colbycriminaljustice.wikidot.com/creating-a-digital-story
If you need help using Windows Movie Maker this is a good tutorial:
http://frybreadqueen.googlepages.com/killtheindian%2Csavetheman
Post your name(s) and video here, just above the previous student post.
Kimberly Munoz
Genesis Rivas
Cindy Orrantia
Abigail Mendoza
Olivia Harris
https://youtu.be/iwTnAxZ_KUk
Diana Martinez-Ponce
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bs9HQdmn3PM&feature=youtu.be
Cheral Ngo
madison ho
Jefferson Texas
Felisha Wright
Kate Moffitt
Sofe Fowler
Annie Jeong
Natasha Black
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YmqQpwYRVjg&t=
Kailey Jacobs
Jill Figgins
Michael Chai
Jasmine Sanchez
Jesel Herrera
Alexandria Sack
Morgan Vap
Scott Lanter, 16 April 2021
Final Project – Narrative Essay – Wilson, Kansas
When I was searching my brain trying to find some subject that would even remotely qualify for a decent subject for my final project, I hesitated to choose my hometown. I felt like choosing my hometown wouldn’t qualify or would be boring. Once I started to think about it, though, I realized that my hometown represents a significant part of American culture. Many people have heard the saying of “nothing is more American than baseball and apple pie.” I would argue that for many people, having their small hometown in the middle of nowhere is even more American.
In order to tell the story of Wilson, Kansas, and do it at least a little justice, I decided a trip back home was in order. Fortunately, these days Wilson is just a ninety-minute cruise North, so no extensive planning was needed. As my dog Phoebe and I made our way home, we passed a few other small towns that I’m sure have just as much of a story to tell as Wilson in their own way. We also passed countless acres of wheat fields and pastures full of cattle, central Kansas is nothing if not predictable.
Finally, after a short detour up highway 4 we crested a large hill leading down into a river valley. Nestled comfortable in that river valley is the small farming community of Wilson. From the top of the hill, it sure doesn’t look like much and your opinion probably won’t change as you get closer. Despite the towns access to two major road systems, Wilson would never see much over a thousand residents. Currently that count is closer to 800 with no signs of increasing anytime soon.
One thing you notice as soon as you enter city limits is that it is straight to housing on all sides. Unlike many cities with last minute gas station and fast-food selections located on the edges, Wilson doesn’t have any need for that. The long-ago city designers, if there ever were such a thing, decided that everything should be centrally located. Once you have reached the middle of Wilson, you can see pretty much everything it has to offer.
As I stop at the only stop sign in the entire town, I am officially in Wilson proper. To my left are the only gas station and liquor store, to my right the only bar. One block in front of me boasts the towns grocery store on the opposite corner from the bank. Behind the bank is the historical Midland Hotel, refurbished with grant money due to the historical importance of being used in the 1973 major motion picture Paper Moon. Dotted throughout the town, almost in defiance of the centralized norm, is a church for every common denomination of Christianity. Finally, on the end of the three block Main Street is the one and only post office for twenty miles in any direction.
It should be worth noting that every person that I have passed whether they are on foot or driving has waved at me. I, of course, wave back since not doing so would peg me as an outsider. A label that I refuse to take even if it has been over fifteen years since I was an actual resident of the town. Despite me visually confirming my country manners and sense of belonging to the others, I immediately do the most “outsider” thing I could possibly do. I take a right turn and park in front of The Egg.
The Egg is a relatively recent addition to the town, and it was through immense effort that it came to be. The Egg is better known as The Czech Egg, is a twenty-foot-tall egg structure built along Highway 40 going through Wilson. It is painted in the traditional Czech fashion due to Wilson proudly declaring itself the Czech Capital of Kansas. A title that no one with any passing familiarity with the small town is unaware of. Built in 2012, it holds the record as the world’s largest Czech egg.
While a twenty-foot-tall egg is definitely something I think everyone should experience at some point, my reason for stopping was much more simple. Beside that egg is a post discussing some of the more historical moments in Wilson history. Wilson didn’t gain it’s Czech capital status overnight! No, it was a long, drawn-out process starting in 1885 with the founding of the town.
Like much of the Midwest, Wilson was created during the American agricultural boom of the nineteenth century. Immigrants from all over Europe were coming in droves for the promise of a piece of free land as long as they would work it. Wilson happened to be settled by mostly Czech and German immigrants, many of whom still have descendants living in the Wilson area. Starting with nothing, many people chose this small river valley to take their chance at the American Dream.
Responsible for a significant number of immigrants was the railroad construction occurring in the late 1870’s. Between having access to the railroad, and a large number of immigrants staying to try their hand at agriculture, this set the stone that would establish Wilson as here to stay. This spark of luck would continue and in the 1920’s Wilson found itself included in the path of the new national highway system with Highway 40, more colloquially known as Old 40, passing straight through the middle.
Carrying on with this luck in the 1950’s when President Eisenhauer was implementing a national interstate system, the new Interstate 70 was created a mere two miles North of the Wilson city limits. Much more important to the history of Wilson though were two separate but fateful events. The first annual After Harvest Czech Festival was held in the summer of 1960, starting an event that carries on to this day. On the last Saturday in July, Wilson will host it’s 61st year of the event which draws thousands of area people to enjoy the celebrations.
Four years later the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers would complete the dam for the aptly named Wilson Reservoir, or Wilson lake as everyone calls it. Originally created for flood control, the lake quickly became a popular spot for locals and tourists alike to entertain themselves. Much more important for Wilson, those tourists brought in some much needed revenue for the city. Due to advancements in agriculture, fewer people were needed to achieve the same amount of work for farming, this leading to a large exodus of people moving to more urban areas for work.
After my little jaunt down historical lane, it was back in the truck for Phoebe and I. We still had a couple miles to go to reach our destination. Just a few miles further north is the home of the Broken Heart Ranch. It’s a ranch that I am pretty familiar with as it is where I grew up. It is a farming business much like all the others dotting the areas around Wilson. Started nearly sixty years ago by my grandparents with little more than a bank note and quite a few prayers, it was one of the “lucky” farms that eventually succeeded. If you include a lifetime of back breaking work and frequent blood, sweat, and tears as “lucky.”
Driving down the last half mile of dirt road, I can see the red tin on the top of the barn. It replaced the old roof after the bad hailstorm twenty years ago. Getting closer, I am beside the “calving pasture,” the small plot of land where countless hours in the freezing weather was spent taking care of the cattle. Finally, we reach the farmyard with its maze of corrals and a weathered but well-maintained two-story house. Parking the truck, it feels like a small weight is suddenly lifted. A weight that you don’t even realize is there until it is gone.
I can talk to you until we’re both blue in the face about the history of small-town Wilson, Kansas. I can make outlandish claims of it’s excellence or rant about it’s awfulness. The truth of the matter is, Wilson is neither of those things. Wilson is neither good nor bad, it is simply a small town with an interesting history. A history that many small towns probably share. Wilson does have one utterly unique fact in this story, and that fact is that, for me, Wilson is home.