Author Archives: Camille Zhang

Korean ghost legend

Text:

“The folklore — or legend — I want to share is a Korean ghost legend that I heard from my mom growing up. I heard it when our family first moved to the United States, when I was in second grade, around Halloween.

The story my mom told me takes place in her high school — an all-girls high school back in Korea. In the last stall of the school bathroom, a ghost pops up out of the toilet and asks if you want red or blue toilet paper. Unless you ignore the ghost and walk out, or say you don’t need any toilet paper, you’re not safe. If you choose either option — red or blue — the ghost kills you or drags you down into the toilet with it.

As for where my mom heard the story, she didn’t specify who she heard it from, but there’s a Korean word called quedam, which refers to well-known, typical ghost stories, especially ones set in schools. Korean high schools are large buildings, and they get very creepy at night with the lights off. My mom said a similar legend originated in Japan, among Japanese schoolgirls, and eventually found its way to Korea, where it became widely known across Korean high schools.

The ghost targets a specific group — students — and the story only occurs in a specific location: the last stall of a school bathroom. I don’t think the legend goes into the ghost’s origins. It’s not specific to one high school or one region. I think its purpose is simply to be a scary story that makes you think twice before using the bathroom late at night at school.

Korean high schools have a unique system where, unlike American high schools that end around 3 p.m., students are required to stay at school until late at night — sometimes until 10 p.m. — to study for college entrance exams. So the school gets dark, and that’s exactly the context where these kinds of ghost stories become very relevant.”

Context:

This text was collected from a sophomore civil engineering student at USC. He shared this legend in a recorded interview, recounting a story he heard from his mother when he was in second grade, shortly after his family immigrated to the United States. The legend centers on a bathroom ghost in the last stall of a Korean school, which offers victims a fatal choice between red and blue toilet paper. The informant learned through his mother that the legend likely originated in Japan among schoolgirls before diffusing into Korean school culture, where it became widely known under the broader category of quedam — a Korean term for traditional, well-known ghost stories. The legend is deeply tied to a specific institutional context: the Korean high school system’s requirement that students remain on campus studying until late at night, which creates the dark, isolated conditions that make the story feel plausible and threatening.

Analysis:

This text is a legend: it is set in the real world, targeting a specific location and population, and designed to feel believable rather than fantastical. Thus, Linda Degh’s point that legends function as debates about belief is useful here: the story doesn’t demand full belief, but it enacts enough doubt that a student alone in a dark school bathroom at 10 p.m. might hesitate and feel scared. This is also the legend’s social function; it governs behavior within the folk group of Korean students, creating informal rules around a vulnerable, isolated situation. Moreover, the story’s transnational diffusion from Japan to Korea is a clear example of oicotypification: the core structure travels across borders while adapting to fit the local institutional context of Korean school culture. The legend also does what ghostlore characteristically does: it attaches supernatural danger to a specific, mundane location, transforming an ordinary school bathroom into a site of folk belief. The story’s survival across generations and national borders speaks to its resonance with universal anxieties around isolation, darkness, and vulnerability.




Luka Doncic Trade Consparicy

Text:
“So, me and basically all my friends I grew up with, we’re all huge sports fans. So, a big conspiracy theory that we thought might have been true is about the NBA, which is the professional basketball league. There was a recent trade of a player named Luka Doncic. Basically, one of the best players in the world. He got traded to the Lakers, which is one of the most popular teams. who weren’t doing so well.
Everyone was like, “How did they agree to this?” And what’s even crazier is that a few months later, the team that traded Luka Doncic got the number one overall pick, which is like, it was like a really valuable thing that they just lucked into by a one percent chance. So the conspiracy theory is that because the NBA’s viewership was really down during that period, they kind of forced that team to trade their star player to a big market. 
And in exchange, they can win the lottery to have the best new and young players. I guess the big thing is, at the end of the day, sport is just entertainment. So the theory is kind of questioning the integrity of the league, and like, you know, is it purely just for profit, or do they still have the respect and love for the actual game still.”

Context:

This text was collected from a male college student who grew up in a close-knit friend group bonded primarily through sports fandom. The conspiracy theory centers on two real recent events: the trade of star player Luka Doncic to the Los Angeles Lakers, and the NBA subsequently winning the first overall draft pick at statistically unlikely odds. The informant and his friends circulated this theory informally among themselves, piecing together public events into narratives of institutional manipulation. The informant’s concluding reflection (questioning whether the league retains genuine love for the game) suggests the conspiracy functions less as a firm belief and more as a way for processing disillusionment with a beloved institution he has invested significant emotional identity in since childhood.

Analysis:

This piece is a contemporary legend in a folkloric sense: it is set in the real world, centered on debatable truth claims, and functioning as what Linda Degh describes as a debate about belief. Additionally, the friend group collectively constructing and circulating this narrative exemplifies how proximity and shared experience generate folk belief. The theory also demonstrates the Goliath effect, as blame migrates toward the most powerful institutional player, the NBA itself, rather than individual teams or owners. The league becomes the “villain” in the legend precisely because of its size and commercial dominance. The narrative also carries deep community values around authenticity and integrity in sport, and the conspiracy framework is used to articulate anxieties about cultural hegemony. More specifically, the way that profit-driven culture industries reshape experiences that many folk communities hold as genuinely meaningful. The theory ultimately functions as a form of vernacular resistance, allowing ordinary fans to critically examine an institution that holds significant power over their cultural and emotional lives.




A joke about calling Shanghainese young masters

Text:
“We were at San Gabriel yesterday, and my friends joked to the coffee shop ‘Cotti Coffee’ that Shanghainese young masters like me won’t like it.”

Context:

This text was collected from a Chinese international student who is originally from Shanghai. The piece emerged during a casual outing at a San Gabriel shopping area, where the informant’s friends spontaneously used the term “Shanghainese young master” as a joke directed at her. “Cotti Coffee” is a budget-friendly Chinese chain, which also means that it is significantly cheaper than other premium brands like Starbucks, which is also the butt of the joke. The term “Shanghainese young master” originated on Chinese social media platforms, where increased information flow made regional economic differences newly visible and discussable. It is used mockingly to describe Shanghainese people who, having grown up in one of China’s wealthiest cities, carry unconscious class privilege. This privilege is demonstrated in this case around consumption habits and taste. The informant received the joke good-naturedly, suggesting she recognizes herself in the stereotype.

Analysis:

This piece shows the way folk speech born on the internet negotiates class identity within a folk group. The term “Shanghainese young master” exemplifies internet folklore’s characteristic of rapid diffusion and variation: the joke emerges from online discussions of regional inequality and is incorporated into in-person social interaction, demonstrating the collapse of boundaries between digital and oral communication in the post-modern era. Moreover, the jokes operate through Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of habitus, or the idea that class position is not just economic but embodied in unconscious tastes and preferences (in this case, coffee consumption). Choosing or refusing a budget coffee chain becomes an involuntary performance of class identity, revealing what the informant has internalized as “normal” without conscious awareness. The joke also shows the way material culture functions as a marker of group identity: the coffee brand is a folk symbol through which insiders negotiate belonging, difference, and hierarchy.





Chinese New Year Tradition of Making “Dern”

Text:

“On the 15th of the Chinese New Year, my grandma would make something called “dern.” “Dern” is like a bun shaped in the form of our Chinese Zodiac. She would make the “dern” for all family members. She would make seven of them, and they are all in our corresponding Chinese zodiac. So, if I’m born in the zodiac of the chicken, then she would make a chicken. This is practiced on the last day of the Chinese New Year. All of our animal characters would be on the same big bun; there are usually three big buns in total. She would also make two fish on one of the big buns, corresponding to the proverb “May you have abundance/surplus year after year.” After I got a boyfriend, my grandmother started making his “dern” as well. It is referred to as “dern” in the Shandong dialect. To be honest, sometimes it is hard for me to recognize which animal is which after she made them. Another thing is that we have to eat it. We have to bring this gigantic bun back to our own house and place it on our table for a day, and then you eat it. I’m not sure why we put it on the table for a day, but if you eat your zodiac, that just means that you are safe and good, and you have to eat the parts with the pieces of gold as well, which means that you can earn a lot of money in the upcoming year.”

Context:

This text was collected from a Chinese international student from Beijing, China. She learned this tradition through direct participation in her grandmother’s annual practice and shared it with me in a casual conversation as she spoke from personal memory. Her grandmother was from Shandong province, and dern is also a word describing decorated buns in the Shandong dialect. The tradition takes place on the 15th day of the Chinese New Year (the Lantern Festival), which marks the final day of the celebration period. The grandmother serves as the sole maker of the buns, crafting zodiac-shaped figures for every family member. A significant detail is that after the informant began dating her boyfriend, the grandmother started making a bun for him as well, suggesting the practice functions as an informal way of welcoming new members into the family. She interprets eating one’s zodiac as ensuring personal safety and prosperity in the coming year.

Analysis:

This piece exemplifies material culture, more specifically when it functions as a family lore, which shows how a broader regional tradition becomes personalized at the household level. This reminds me of Carl von Sydow’s concept of oicotypes: in this case, the family’s specific variation — seven individual buns, three large bases, fish for prosperity, a one-day display — represents a local adaptation of a wider Shandong practice. The variation is shaped by this family’s particular values and composition. Moreover, the ritual also aligns with Frazer’s theory of homeopathic magic: eating one’s zodiac animal and the golden pieces embedded in the bun not only symbolize safety and wealth, it also enact them. Corresponding folk beliefs like those exemplified through the shape of the “dern” collapse the boundary between representation and outcome. The grandmother’s decision to include the boyfriend’s bun is especially interesting, as it functions as a vernacular act of admitting family membership, which comes before any official social recognition of the relationship.





Chinese Birthday Tradition of Longevity Noodles

Text:

“For everybody’s birthday, we have to wear new clothes from top to down. And then we also need to eat noodles each morning, and your whole family also needs to eat noodles with you. And then you also need to like use a chopstick to drag the noodles as long as possible (like hold it as long as possible). And say something like “live forever” or something like that. So that can like represent that you are going to be healthy and have like a good life for a very long time. Everyone has to take pictures as they hold the noodles. Even when we are apart, my family still does it and sends it to me on my birthday.”

Context:

The informant describes a family birthday tradition centred on eating 长寿面 (longevity noodles). This is a common practice in many Chinese households. She grew up participating in this ritual with her family, where eating noodles on one’s birthday symbolises wishes for a long and healthy life. The informant explains that this is not only done in person but continues even when family members are physically apart, as they take photos and share them with each other. For her, this tradition is both a symbolic ritual and a way of maintaining family connection across distance.

Analysis:

This tradition can be understood through Mary Douglas’s idea that everyday practices carry symbolic meanings that reinforce cultural values. The emphasis on the length of the noodles reflects how physical actions are used to represent abstract ideas like longevity and health. The act of carefully holding and eating the noodles shows intentional participation to express these wishes. Other than carrying symbolic value, the shared participation (whether in person or through photos) reinforces family bonds and continuity.