Monthly Archives: March 2024

Snape Hunting

This folklore comes from my informant’s kindergarten campout. At night while all of the kids are about to go to sleep, they must go run around and try to catch the imaginary “snapes”. These creatures only come out at night and try to trick you and get you in your tents and you must capture them first. You can spot these creatures in the shadow of the night from their distinguished red eye that comes and goes at will. In reality the eye is nothing more than the red pen light of one of the teachers. Nonetheless, the students were none the wiser and continued after imaginary shadows in the dark. 

The tradition of hunting for snapes serves as a communal activity that strengthens bonds amongst the kindergartners. Engaging in a nightly group endeavor creates a sense of unity and camaraderie among the children. The shared goal of capturing these imaginary creatures requires cooperation and communication, essential components in building a strong community spirit. This activity also allows them to engage in a form of play that blurs the lines between reality and imagination, further enhancing the group’s cohesion through shared experiences. The act of searching for snapes, particularly in the context of the nighttime setting, can symbolize the children’s confrontation with and overcoming of fears. Nighttime often represents the unknown, a time when fears and anxieties can be heightened in members of all ages. By actively participating in an imaginative game that takes place in this context, the kindergartners can confront their fears in a controlled and safe environment. The hunt for snapes, with the creatures represented only by fleeting red lights (the teachers’ pen lights), allows children to face the abstract concept of fear through a tangible action. This symbolic conquering of fears can be empowering for children, giving them a sense of bravery and accomplishment.

Punching Roof of Car While Passing Through Yellow Light

This informant recited a tradition which was very popular in my hometown. My hometown had a very dedicated car community where many members of our high school participated in driving cars precariously fast. My informant, a valid member of this community, retold a bit of driving folklore regarding one of the most dangerous obstacles in our hometown, red lights. More specifically, the changing of the yellow light from green then later to red. When driving at high speeds, it can be difficult to determine whether one can make it past the light in time or not. My informant said that sometimes the best thing to do is speed up and pass through the light, however whenever this is done you must punch the roof of the car for goodluck. This is also a way to pay tribute to the greater powers controlling the vehicle and paying homage to them for guiding the vehicle safely through traffic as well as slowing down the light from changing to red. 

Tracing the precise origins of this superstition is challenging, as it likely emerged spontaneously in multiple locations as automobiles became integral to daily life. The ritual reflects a broader human tendency to create and adhere to superstitions surrounding travel and transitions, which are moments of heightened risk and uncertainty. Similar to other travel-related superstitions, the practice likely spread through word-of-mouth and imitation, becoming a part of the collective driving culture. The yellow light in traffic signals serves as a warning, indicating that the red stop signal is imminent and that drivers should prepare to halt. However, in the fast-paced rhythm of modern life, a yellow light often prompts a decision: to speed up in an attempt to cross the intersection before the light turns red or to slow down and stop. The act of punching the roof of the car while driving through a yellow light is a ritualistic gesture that symbolically wards off bad luck or the potential negative consequences of making such split-second decisions. It can be seen as a way to ‘pay homage’ to the gods of luck and safe travel, seeking protection or blessing for the choice to proceed rather than stop.

The License Plate Game

This informant talked about a popular driving game played by many people in their hometown. This game is played by anybody in a moving vehicle and whenever you see a license plate that is not from the state you are currently driving in, then you punch someone in the shoulder. This game is “similar to punchbuggy” but due to the lack of Volkswagen Bugs around these, it is more fun and common to look out for out of state license plates. You also must say the state where that license plate is from while punching the other person. If you cannot read the license plate then you cannot punch anybody until you are sure which state it is. Anybody in the car can play this game and is open to getting punched at any time. 

This game serves as a mechanism for cultural transmission by teaching participants to pay attention to their surroundings and fostering an awareness of the geographic diversity. It is an informal yet effective way of engaging with the concept of statehood and regional identity within a larger national context. The adaptation of the game from specifically recognizing Volkswagen Beetles to identifying out-of-state license plates illustrates how folklore evolves to incorporate broader experiences of travel. At its core, the game is a form of social play that reinforces bonds between participants through shared experience and light-hearted competition. It operates under an implicit set of rules agreed upon by those playing, creating a temporary and dynamic community bound by the rules of the game. This aspect of play is crucial for social bonding, allowing individuals to negotiate relationships and hierarchies within the safety of a game context. The physical act of punching as symbolic, and performed with jest, emphasizes the physicality of these interactions. Overall this makes these interactions more memorable and fosters a sense of friendship.

You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.

Context: The informant was four years old at a preschool birthday party when she first heard this phrase, said to her by a friend’s mother after she asked for a different popsicle flavor.

Analysis: This rhyming phrase is typically said to children in response to expressions of dissatisfaction (I’ve heard it many times as well). It seems to encourage a philosophy of being grateful for what one has, and not to trouble others with your own disappointment.

Three Doors Riddle

You’re in the woods – it’s dark, there’s no electricity, and you’re running from something (e.g. a bear, a ghost, or some other scary thing). You come across an empty building and go inside. Before you are three doors (may vary among tellers): a circle one, a triangle one, and a rectangle one. Which do you choose?

After you choose one, you are presented with another three doors: for example, one red, one green, one blue. You choose, and again there are three doors: one covered in velvet, one covered in glitter, and one made of wood. This may go on until you are presented with a final set of three doors: one that leads to a den of hungry lions, one to a room with an electric chair, and one with a rising flood. Which do you choose?

The other two doors may vary, but all are meant to present an inescapable death – except the electric chair. As said at the beginning of the riddle, there is no electricity – therefore, upon choosing the room with the electric chair, you will survive, and have thus solved the riddle.

The informant also mentioned a variation of the riddle where one room instead leads to a group of lions that haven’t eaten in a hundred years – in this case, you are meant to be distracted from the fact that the lions would be dead from starvation.

Context: The informant first heard this riddle somewhere between the ages 9 and 13, while at a junior lifeguard summer camp.

Analysis: This seems to fit into a trend of ‘catch’ riddles that a) casually introduce a key detail (lack of electricity), b) distract the receiver with irrelevant information made to seem important (choices between doors + a sense of urgency), and c) ask a question that, unbeknownst to the receiver, depends solely on the key detail. The receiver is then meant to feel foolish for missing the obvious.