Monthly Archives: May 2025

A Cautionary Tale of Garlic and Onion

Nationality: American
Age: 32
Occupation: Unemployed
Residence: San Francisco, CA
Language: English

Text:
“Ever since I was little, my mom would always tell me the story of a bride who ate garlic the night before her wedding and ended up fainting at the altar. Both my brother and I were taught growing up not to eat super fragrant, pungent things on sacred days such as weddings or funerals, as you want to be sweet—in both scent and spirit. Thus, on the day of my wedding and the birth of my children, I did not eat garlic or onion. Also, when I was expecting my girls, I did not eat it either.”

Context:
This legend was shared by the informant, P, during a conversation about traditional Indian practices. P explained that the belief was passed down to her by her mother, who told her the cautionary legend of a bride passing out at the altar as a result of eating garlic the night before. This story taught P that pungent foods should be avoided on sacred days. She clearly deeply values this legend, as it guided her behavior during her wedding and the birth of her children.

Analysis:
This is a legend because it is telling a cautionary story that is believed to be true and is passed down to reinforce a specific cultural belief. The dramatic story of the bride fainting at the altar helps justify the belief that eating pungent foods on important days can cause bad luck. This legend highlights the Indian cultural value placed on purity and spiritual cleanliness during sacred days such as weddings or funerals. This practice, continuing through generations, highlights how legends can shape our everyday practices—especially during periods of transition.

Protecting Fruit Trees

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: San Francisco, CA
Language: English

Text:
When we moved into our new house, my sisters and I were ecstatic about having a plum tree in our backyard. Much to our dismay, we realized that the tree was sick and dying. My mom explained that despite the fruit tree not being healthy, it would be bad luck to cut it down, as the tree symbolizes good luck and fertility. She explained that in Indian culture, there is a myth that you can never cut down a fruit tree. This is because the tree is symbolic of a mother who is having children, and cutting it down is almost like harming a pregnant woman. It is seen as bad luck and not life-preserving.

Context:
This folklore was shared to the informant, A, by his mother, P, during a casual moment discussing the tree in their backyard. P is originally from India and most likely learned to associate fruit trees with fertility from her own family. P clearly interprets this belief as a sacred tradition that guides her behavior, and by passing it to her son, A, she is continuing this cultural value across generations.

Analysis:
This is a myth because it uses a sacred and symbolic story to offer an explanation for a natural-cultural taboo. It helps explain the belief that fruit trees are not just plants, but also mothers who are spiritually protected. This myth highlights Indian culture’s strong values surrounding respect for life and harmony with nature. By actually preserving the tree and not cutting it down, A’s family is showing the power that myths can have on our behavior. Despite not being in their home country, where this myth originated, A’s family continues this tradition, highlighting how myths contribute to our cultural identities regardless of time or place.

“The Runner and the Man on the Horse”

1. Text

This narrative, titled The Runner and the Man on the Horse, was told to me by my grandmother JW, a member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. It is important to note that there are several oicotypes of this legend, but it is confirmed to be true by my great, great, great-grandmother. It is a traditional tale rooted in Indigenous storytelling practices, centering on a moment of challenge, pride, and resilience between a young Choctaw man named Hut Tecumseh and a non-Indigenous settler. The story is set in a time when cultural tensions between Native and settler communities ran seemingly high, and it functions on both literal and symbolic levels.

In the story, a “white man” rides into Choctaw territory. Annoyed by the intrusive presence of this man on the horse, a young Choctaw runner—barefoot, calm, and grounded—steps forward and quietly asserts that he can outrun the man on the horse. Several Choctaw members nearby react with curiosity and excitement.

The proposed race is simple: to a post set 250 yards down a dirt path and back again. The man on the horse laughs but agrees, confident in his superiority. At the start, the horse surges ahead, thundering with speed and strength. But the runner moves parallel to the horse. At the turning post, the runner doesn’t break stride. He grabs the post, pivots with precision, and slingshots himself back. By the time the horse turns, the runner is already far ahead. He reaches the finish calm, composed, and victorious.

The story triumphantly ends in Indigenous celebration with the idea that the man on the horse was forced to accept defeat. 

2. Context

This story was shared with me by my grandmother JW, a lifelong storyteller and member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. Her family lived on the reservation, and she learned this story from her ancestors, who treated it not only as a tale of physical skill but also as a teaching story—one that reflects cultural values about humility, pride, and the relationship between people and the land. She has informed me that this story is a part of a museum display in the Choctaw Nation Museum in Oklahoma.

JW told the story to me in English as she is the first generation of her family to not be fluent in Choctaw. For JW and her family, this was not a tale of competition for its own sake. It was a narrative about dignity in the face of colonial arrogance, discrimination, and the power of cultural memory. The barefoot runner wasn’t just a character, but rather a hero; he symbolized an enduring Choctaw identity—deeply connected to the land, spiritually resilient, and underestimated by those outside the community.

3. Interpretation

The Runner and the Man on the Horse fits within the category of a cultural legend, particularly one rooted in Indigenous oral tradition with historical and symbolic overtones. While it contains no overt supernatural elements, the story takes on mythic proportions in its structure, tone, and meaning. Its narrative affirms a communal identity that carries layered moral and historical implications.

The absence of supernatural motifs does not diminish its mythic resonance; instead, it draws power from the reality of the land and the people who inhabit it. The story reflects Indigenous epistemologies that center the land not as a backdrop, but as an active participant in cultural memory. The Choctaw runner becomes a representative of collective strength and ancestral wisdom, whose victory signals more than personal triumph—it affirms the endurance of a people and a worldview often marginalized or dismissed by dominant historical narratives.

At the core of the story is a contrast between two ways of being: one represented by the settler’s reliance on animal power, machinery, and boastful pride; the other embodied by the runner’s strength, discipline, and resilience. The legend critiques colonial arrogance and asserts the quiet power of Indigenous resilience. The runner’s victory is not just athletic—it is cultural, spiritual, and political. The story engages with themes discussed in class, including how folklore preserves historical values and asserts identity through performance and memory. The continued telling of this legend—even in English, and in a contemporary context—demonstrates how Indigenous folklore adapts while preserving the core values of balance, humility, strength, and cultural pride. JW’s version reflects not just the story itself, but the living tradition of storytelling that continues to sustain and affirm Choctaw identity across generations.

Date of performance: 4/01/25
Language: English
Nationality: Choctaw
Occupation: Retired
Primary Language: English
Residence: Modesto, CA

“The Possum and the Wolf” -Choctaw Tale

  1. Text

The following tale, titled The Possum and the Wolf, was told to me by my grandmother, a member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. This was the first time I ever got to sit down with her and speak about the traditions of our ancestry. It is a traditional animal tale that reflects the trickster motif, which is common in Indigenous oral traditions.

The story follows two characters, named Possum and Wolf. In some versions, they are referred to as “the” possum and “the” wolf, whereas in my Grandma’s version, the breed of animal is also their name. In the story, Possum and Wolf are traveling together through the woods. Wolf is hungry and aggressive, while Possum is portrayed as clever and cautious. Eventually,  the two come across a persimmon tree, where Wolf is unable to reach the ripe fruit hanging from its upper branches. Possum, being clever, easily climbs the tree and begins eating. When Wolf asks for some, Possum deliberately throws down only the rotten fruit.

Frustrated, Wolf becomes increasingly upset, hostile, even. Wolf starts to yell. In response, Possum pretends to fall from the tree and plays dead on the ground. Believing Possum has died, Wolf approaches to eat him, but Possum suddenly jumps up and escapes with immense laughter, leaving Wolf startled and empty-handed. Wolf is left with nothing but the rotten persimmon. The story ends with Possum outsmarting his physically larger and stronger companion by relying on quick thinking and deception.

(TEXT) I am attaching a detailed quoted description of my grandmother’s telling:

“One time, long ago, Possum and Wolf were walking together in the woods. Wolf was hungry and mean, always looking for something to eat, and he’d never share. Possum, though, was clever. He knew how to stay out of trouble. So when Wolf said, ‘Let’s hunt together,’ Possum said sure.

They came to a persimmon tree full of ripe fruit, but the best ones were up high. Wolf jumped and snapped, but couldn’t get any. Possum had a trick in mind. He climbed right up and started eating. Wolf begged him to throw some down. Possum said, ‘Alright!’ and started tossing down the rotten ones. Wolf got mad, and started howling. Possum was quite amused. So Possum pretended to fall dead—rolled right off the branch and hit the ground like a rock.

Wolf thought Possum was dead and sniffed around to see if he could eat him. But right as he got close—BOOM—Possum jumped up and ran off laughing! Left Wolf with nothing but a rotten persimmon in his mouth.”

2. Context

This story was collected through an oral interview with my grandmother, Judy, who is an enrolled member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma. Her family lived on the reservation, and she learned the story as a child from relatives who told it in everyday settings. She shared it with me many times while I was growing up, often during casual moments at home. The tale was always presented as a lighthearted story, but it carried implicit moral messages that were never explained outright—only understood through repetition and tone.

JW (my grandmother) considered this story to be part of a larger body of Choctaw oral tradition, though she told it in English. She believes that these “stories” carry meaning beyond their entertainment value—they were vessels for memory, culture, and survival. She saw the story as a way to pass along lessons about how to navigate life with awareness and strategy, especially in a world that doesn’t always reward strength or straightforwardness. Rather than explain the story’s moral directly, she allowed the tale to speak for itself. The tale is a coded message, encouraging one to think critically, remain adaptable, and value intellect over impulsiveness. Its repetition reinforces its relevance, embedding in one (me) a culturally grounded framework for resilience.

3. Interpretation

This narrative qualifies as a folk tale rooted in oral tradition. It is part of an intergenerational chain of storytelling within the Native American community to which I belong. Additionally, it connects to themes discussed in class, particularly the trickster tale—a subgenre of folk narrative in which cleverness triumphs over physical power.

The deeper significance of the tale lies in its moral structure and cultural values. Possum, the underdog figure, uses intelligence and performance (playing dead) to avoid danger and assert autonomy. The narrative suggests that wisdom, adaptability, and psychological insight are more valuable than brute strength. These values align with broader Indigenous philosophies, where social harmony, patience, and strategic thinking are emphasized over domination.

Wolf, who acts selfishly and impulsively, fails to achieve his goal, reinforcing the idea that aggressive behavior leads to isolation or defeat. In contrast, Possum’s nonviolent approach reflects a worldview in which survival comes through subtlety rather than confrontation.

On a personal level, this story is an important expression of cultural continuity. It connects me not only to my grandmother but to a larger Choctaw identity, one shaped by stories that contain embedded lessons. The continued telling of this tale—even in English, and in a modern context—demonstrates how folklore adapts while preserving core values and worldviews. Although the language, setting, and audience may shift over time, the story retains its cultural function as a means of transmitting Choctaw identity, ethical frameworks, and communal memory. Its survival in contemporary contexts speaks to the resilience of oral tradition and its ability to evolve without losing its essence. This adaptability is a hallmark of living folklore, reflecting how traditional narratives can remain relevant across generations by engaging with new environments while still grounding individuals in ancestral knowledge.

Date of performance: 4/01/25
Language: English
Nationality: Choctaw American
Occupation: Retired
Primary Language: English
Residence: Modesto, CA.

La Llorona

1. Text

This folk narrative, commonly known as La Llorona (“The Weeping Woman”), was told to me by my godmother (RS). It is a widely known legend in Latinx communities, especially in Mexico, where my godmother is from, and the American Southwest. This folk narrative is typically used to convey cautionary lessons about motherhood, morality, and the boundaries between the natural and supernatural worlds.

In RS’s version, the story centers on a beautiful woman who lived in a small village. She fell in love with a wealthy man who eventually abandoned her and their two children. Overcome by grief, rage, or desperation, the woman drowned her children in a river. Immediately after realizing what she had done, she was consumed by guilt, sorrow and regret. RS informed me that in some tellings, she dies shortly after; in others, she takes her own life; in some, she kidnaps children, trying to fill the hole in her heart she created for herself. Either way, her spirit is said to wander the earth, especially near rivers or bodies of water, crying out for her children with an echoing, haunting wail.

RS emphasized that La Llorona is not just a ghost story, but a living presence in cultural memory. She described how, growing up, children were warned not to stay out too late near rivers or creeks, or La Llorona would come for them. The legend was often shared at night, especially during family gatherings, both to entertain and to instill a sense of caution and reverence, especially among young ones.

2. Context

This version of La Llorona was shared with me in an informal interview with my godmother RS, who has known this story since childhood. She grew up hearing it from older relatives, particularly her mother and aunts, and she began telling it to her children once she became a mother. Though RS does not take the legend as seriously as some of her relatives do, RS sees the story as deeply embedded in her cultural heritage and tied to her identity as a Latina woman raised in a multigenerational household.

Although she told the story to me in English, she often codeswitched and used Spanish phrases, which she said carried a power that couldn’t be fully translated. She emphasized that while people often treat La Llorona as a ghost story, in her family, it was treated with seriousness and even fear. It functioned not just as entertainment, but as a warning and a moral guide. For RS, the story also served to express complex emotions—grief, betrayal, guilt, shame—and it offered a way to talk about family responsibility, the consequences of despair, and the spiritual costs of abandonment.

3. Interpretation

La Llorona is best classified as a legend—a narrative that blurs the line between truth and myth, often grounded in cultural beliefs and reinforced through oral tradition. It persists in multiple variants across Latin America and the United States, demonstrating its function as a flexible and powerful narrative form that adapts to its audience while retaining core themes.

The story functions on multiple levels. On the surface, it serves as a frightening tale used to discipline children and discourage risky behavior, particularly near dangerous places like rivers at night. However, on a deeper level, La Llorona speaks to societal anxieties surrounding motherhood, gender roles, and emotional repression. The mother’s transformation into La Llorona reflects both personal trauma and collective memory, turning individual grief into a communal warning.

In RS’s telling, the emotional core of the legend was emphasized more than its shock value. The tale becomes not just a punishment narrative, but a reflection on the dangers of abandonment—both being abandoned and abandoning others—and the lingering pain that unresolved loss can leave behind. This emotional resonance helps explain the legend’s persistence over generations.

The continued telling of La Llorona, whether in traditional and modern contexts, illustrates how folklore adapts to shifting cultural realities while preserving key ethical and emotional truths. RS’s version demonstrates that the legend is not a static artifact of the past, but a living narrative that continues to serve social, emotional, and pedagogical functions. Its survival speaks to its ability to evolve in form while remaining rooted in the cultural consciousness of those who tell and hear it.

Date of performance: 4/06/25
Language: English
Nationality: Mexican-American
Occupation: Retired
Primary Language: English
Residence: Monterey, CA