Author Archives: Hlbrec

Championing in the Writing for Screen and Television Department of USC School of Cinematic Arts

Main piece:

Student #1: It was like, the way people get into screenwriting is every screenwriting professor picks an application and has to fight for it. Um, and so every student has their “champion” who is the one who fought for them to get into this program, and then before you graduate they have to tell you who they are. 

Student #2: I heard the same version Student #1 heard but I didn’t hear it freshman year. I heard it at Admitted Student Day back as a senior. And there was like this panel of like upperclassmen getting ready to graduate and they were doing this Q&A and then one of them brought up the champions and they basically said what Student #1 said, but then they also said that there was like a room somewhere that they go to specifically to do the applications each year, to read them, and before we graduate they’ll take us to that room and be like ‘oh this is where you were chosen’ or something like that. 

Background: Student #1 and Student #2 are sophomore majors of the Writing for Screen and Television Program and USC School of Cinematic Arts. Although away from campus due to COVID-19, both of them were on campus and participating in its folklore the previous year. While Student #1 couldn’t remember where she heard the legend, she believed it was when she was on campus freshman year. Additionally, freshman year SCA students are assigned a “big”, an older student in the major who is meant to show them the ropes first semester, and are known to pass down lore to incoming students. As stated above, Student #2 heard it during Admitted Students Day. 

Context: This piece was brought to my attention through a text message Student #2 sent, requesting that we meet to discuss “SCA” (School of Cinematic Arts) folklore. She casually mentioned “like the rumor of having champions and the secret room where they read our applications”. I had never heard that rumor, and ended up meeting with her and Student #1 (via Zoom) to discuss it, and share the folklore that I knew in return. Both students called the championing a “legend”, which means they are unsure about the “truthiness” of it. They both seemed inclined to believe it to be true, or at the very least hopeful that some professor wanted them there and was looking out for them. 

Analysis: Championing is a Writing for Screen and Television major legend that serves as a way of making new members feel wanted in the community. People hear of championing either once they’ve been admitted to the school or when they first get there, a time that they are technically a member of the community even if it doesn’t feel that way yet. This liminality, accompanied by the fact that college in itself is a new scary space, has students looking for reasons to belong. Being told that they are special enough to fight for, and in fact, their membership is contingent on someone fighting for them, makes students feel more comfortable in the space, and induces a greater sense of validation and belonging. The legend of championing is accompanied by the knowledge (true or not) that it is not happenstance nor circumstance that led to their acceptance, but a completely intentional act. Additionally, many people are away from their parents for the first time once they attend college, and having a teacher “choosing” them inspires a greater sense of comfort as this can be analogized to their own relationships with mentors or other parental figures. It can also be interpreted as creating stronger bonds among the students themselves, as they are the “chosen” ones, specifically selected to be there when others were rejected. This “us vs. them” mentality creates a shared identity that can be used to inspire greater familiarity among new students, as well as students from older grades. As it is traditionally the older students who pass down this knowledge to the younger ones, the legend of championing can be used by older members to invite younger ones into the community. The addition of a “secret room” where the applications are read heightens the sensibility that the students are important and that the Writing for Screen and Television department itself is prestigious enough to warrant this kind of behavior, adding mystery to a process students are already familiar with, that of college admissions.

We’re All Off like a Herd of Turtles

Main piece: When we’re all leaving but we’re kind of late, someone will say “we’re all off like a herd of turtles”. But my family intentionally mispronounces it, so they say “we’re off like nerd of nerdles” or “we’re off like a turd of hurdles”.

Background: My informant is a twenty-year old woman from Richardson, Texas. Her father is from Malmesbury, a town Wiltshire, England, and her mother is from Dallas, Texas.

Explanation: Turtles are famously slow, so “we’re all off like a herd of turtles” means that “we are moving incredibly slowly and are definitely going to be late.”

Analysis: This folk simile exists to make light out of an unfortunate situation, that of being late. Being late can create anxiety, but having a funny saying allows the family to laugh it off, and also serves as a gentle reprimand that they should be moving faster. Additionally, intentionally misstating the phrase is another way to make light of the fact that they’ve made a mistake and don’t have enough time to get wherever they are going punctually, essentially saying that “we’re late, so we can’t do anything right, not even saying the phrase about being late”.

The Buckeye Jar

Main piece: KP: Our team does have this tradition where usually once a week we’ll have this giant glass container, very pretty, engraved, it says “Ohio State Rowing” or whatever, and Ohio State has the Buckeye nuts, we’re “The Buckeyes”, and everytime you want to congratulate a teammate, or point out how hard they’ve been working, you go up in front of the whole team, you take a buckeye, and put it in the glass jar. So in the beginning of the year we have no buckeyes, and then at the end of the year we have a whole jar of them, and that shows how far we’ve worked, all year, how much we’ve helped each other, how much we like each other and support each other. 

HB: So you just go and find a nut on the ground?

KP: So we have a couple buckeye trees by the boathouse, so we got buckeyes from there. I think we bought some of them, but most of them were collected by our former head coach because he was weird like that and he liked to do that. But yeah, so that’s kind of cute. 

HB: How do you announce it [that you’re putting the buckeye in]?

KP: So you go up in front of the whole team, and be like “This one’s for KP for working hard during lift” and then you drop it in. 

Background: KP is a sophomore coxswain for The Ohio State University rowing team. After coxing competitively in Maryland clubs for four years, she was recruited to cox at Ohio, which she has now done for two years. She seemed proud of this tradition, and has actively participated in it during her time at Ohio.

Context: I asked KP if her team has any “lucky” objects or superstitions they do/interact with before competitions. While this is not either of those things, she believes that this tradition is one of her team’s most important ones.  She believes that it fulfills its purpose of showing how much her team cares for each other.

Analysis: This ritual serves as team bonding. The folk object; the fancy glass jar engraved with “Ohio State Rowing” represents the team itself; the prestige of the institution. Over the course of the year, as team members laud the actions of others, it becomes full. The metaphor there is then an obvious one of togetherness. However, this jar is not (in the opinion of KP) seen as important as the buckeye nuts, which are either gathered by the person who wants to reward their teammate or collected from inside the boathouse. The buckeye nut (and therefore being a Buckeye, as a symbol of the school) in this context has positive connotations. It is accompanied by another team member acknowledging hard work or skill level, and encourages other members of the group to bond or work harder so that they too can be given this compliment. One then wants to and takes pride in being a Buckeye, or a member of OSU, as it is something that has been earned and a title given to them by other members of their group.

The Tooth Fairy

Main piece: Every tooth you got a note from the tooth fairy, who was a woman – a Ms. Tooth Fairy. And she had a wand and a costume. And there was a rate for it. One tooth was $1, molars were $5, and the last tooth was a big deal, like 20 bucks. The fairy is magic. She’s real. She sent me a letter. But, you know, my children loved those notes. One of them kept all of them.

Background:  My informant is a fifty-three year old woman from Los Angeles, California. She is the mother of three children, aged twenty, sixteen, and fourteen. Whenever one of them would lose a tooth, they would receive some money (rates stated above), and a letter from the tooth fairy inquiring after their general well-being, and complimenting how big they’ve grown. To this day, whenever her children ask about the tooth fairy (including her eldest for the purposes of a folklore project), she adamantly says “she” is real. 

Context: The tooth fairy is a common folk character. The Western variation of this folklore states that if a child loses their tooth and leaves it under a pillow, the tooth fairy will come, take the tooth, and bring them money. In the case of my informant’s children, a note would accompany the typical tradition, and my informant continues to tell her children of its existence, even if they are old enough now to no longer believe in her. 

My informant told this story when I brought up Santa Claus as an example of a character rooted in folklore. 

Analysis: The folklore of being given money by the tooth fairy comes from the fear of losing one’s teeth- an otherwise horrific and scary occurrence for any young child to deal with. By rewarding or giving the child a present in exchange for the lost tooth, they are able to take something that would otherwise be seen as strange and scary and make it seem exciting or something to look forward to. The notes as an accompaniment to the money made the experiences of the children of my informant more personal, and having a stock character that wrote to them and comforted them made that experience even easier to handle. Additionally, my informant’s refusal to deny the existence of the tooth fairy to this day has more to do with her perspective than that of the kids’, as having a tooth fairy is part of childhood, and as the children grow up, they no longer need her and stop believing in her. My informant’s insistence of her continued existence in reality is her way of connecting the character with the childhood innocence of her children, even now that they are mostly grown up.  (For another version, see Stuurman, May 18, 2020, “The Tooth Fairy”, USC Folklore Archives)

The Second Name

Main piece: We have the tradition of naming our children after loved ones who have died. If however, the person who is deceased died at a young age, we give the baby a second name of an old person. We want the baby to have better luck and live longer; live a long life.

Background: My informant is a seventy-nine year old Ashkenazi Jewish woman living in Baltimore, Maryland. She is also my grandmother. She describes herself as a follower of “bubbe-meise” (Yiddish), translated to “grandmother’s fable”, or a more serious version of old wive’s tales that are often accompanied by superstitions.

Context: My informant and I were discussing Jewish cultural traditions, when she asked me if I could remember where I got my name. I told her that it was after my great-aunt (her sister-in-law), who died fairly young (she was fifty-nine) of breast cancer. My informant then asked me if I remembered where I got my middle name. I told her it was after her (the informant’s) grandmother, who lived well into her nineties (she was around ninety-seven when she passed). My informant then explained this cultural practice to me. My informant’s eldest son’s name followed this tradition as well. 

Analysis: It is a custom of Ashkenazi culture to name children after deceased loved ones, as both a way of honoring them and carrying their memories on  (this is not true for all Jewish people; Sephardic Jews name their children after living relatives, while Ashkenazi Jews do not). However, with loved ones who unfortunately did not live long or happy lives there is a fear that the children will also be cursed with a similar fate. However, by adding on a second name of someone who did have, as my informant puts it, “better luck”, the parents can honor their loved one while cancelling out any bad luck or misfortune that may accompany the name. Additionally, the source of the name is usually someone the parents want their child to emulate, or whose virtues the deceased namesake could hopefully pass on. There is also a belief that the soul of the deceased loved one lives on in the child who carries their name. The fear then comes from the idea that the child will not only inherit the virtues of their namesake, but the misfortunes as well. By tagging on a second name of someone who had a happier or longer life, the parents then believe that the souls of the two namesakes will both bequeath their virtues, and not their misfortunes.