Category Archives: Protection

No Whistling in Theatre Spaces

Folk Belief / Superstition
Occupational Folklore – Theatre / Behavioral Taboo

1. Text

JP, a theatre major at American University, described a well-established superstition within theatrical environments: the belief that whistling inside a theatre invites bad luck or misfortune. According to JP, this is not merely a stylistic or aesthetic preference, but a behavioral taboo actively enforced in rehearsal and backstage settings, especially backstage. “You might be whistling without thinking, and someone will stop you immediately,” she noted. “People treat it as disruptive, even dangerous,” JP noted that she can’t whistle either way, but believes the superstition is a little dramatic.

JP recounted watching someone in her college program reprimanded for whistling during her first year in university theatre. “I didn’t know it was a problem. This girl was humming and then started to whistle backstage during tech week, and someone cut him off — not angrily, but urgently. They told her, ‘That’s something we don’t do here.’ I laughed. I thought it was so crazy and comical, but the girl who whistled had the biggest look of shame.”

Although JP does not personally attribute supernatural consequences to the act of whistling, she adheres to the custom out of respect for the collective understanding. “I don’t believe something bad will happen, but I know it’s part of the culture. You don’t want to violate the space or distract people, especially when the stakes are high. Additionally, I don’t want conflict with other people, so even if I could whistle, I still would not.”

2. Context

JP learned this superstition informally during her early involvement in university theatre. The belief was not introduced through any institutional channel or training, but rather through peer correction, a method common in the transmission of occupational folklore. The reprimand she saw another student experience served as an entry point into the implicit behavioral norms that govern theatrical spaces — rules which are often unspoken but widely upheld. Additionally, her unfamiliarity with the superstition prior to entering this particular theatre context highlights the localized nature of folklore transmission and how such beliefs can vary significantly across different performance communities.

The belief in the danger of whistling in a theatre is historically grounded. JP informed me that in the 19th and early 20th centuries, stage riggers — many of whom had maritime backgrounds — used a system of coded whistles to signal cue changes for scenery, rigging, and fly systems. An unintentional whistle could therefore result in mistimed or hazardous movements backstage. While modern stagecraft no longer relies on such signaling systems, the associated taboo persists as a form of cultural residue, maintained more for its symbolic weight than its practical relevance.

JP explained that even though the original rationale is no longer operational, the custom remains widespread and now it has now become a very looming superstition. “People treat it as disrespectful,” she said. “It’s not just about the sound. It’s about what it implies — that you’re not actively engaged and focused in the way you should be.” As such, the act of whistling violates more than etiquette; it breaches a collectively upheld boundary of theatrical conduct.

3. Interpretation

The prohibition against whistling in a theatre functions as a behavioral taboo within the occupational folk group of stage performers and technicians. Its persistence, despite the disappearance of its original practical necessity, is a testament to the role of tradition as a mechanism of cultural continuity. In this context, the act of whistling is not inherently harmful, but it becomes symbolically charged within a space where control, precision, and attentiveness are paramount.

From a folkloristic perspective, this taboo aligns with other examples of ritual avoidance behavior — prohibitions enacted not because of empirical risk, but because of their perceived symbolic danger. The theatre, as a liminal space in which transformation and performance occur, is often surrounded by customs that reinforce spatial and emotional boundaries. Whistling, an unsolicited and uncontrolled auditory act, is viewed as an intrusion upon the ritual environment of rehearsal or performance.

Moreover, the belief plays a significant role in group boundary maintenance. Through mechanisms of correction and social enforcement, practitioners reaffirm their identity as members of a professional tradition. The act of stopping someone from whistling, particularly a novice, is both a disciplinary and didactic act: it reasserts collective values while initiating the newcomer into the shared culture of theatrical practice.

Even among those who do not interpret the act superstitiously, the continued observance of the rule suggests a broader understanding of folklore’s functional value. Customs such as this one provide structure and coherence within an otherwise unpredictable environment. The taboo against whistling operates not merely as a superstition but as a ritualized gesture of respect toward the space, the craft, and the community of practitioners who maintain it.

In sum, JP’s account illustrates how occupational folk groups preserve behavioral norms through informal transmission, even when the original rationale has been obscured or rendered obsolete. In doing so, these traditions help define the emotional architecture of performance spaces and maintain a shared sense of discipline, identity, and continuity.

Eat Long Noodles on Your Birthday for a Long Life

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Chino, California
Language: English

1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION
On my birthday, my parents always made me eat noodles. It didn’t matter what else we were having, there had to be noodles. They’d say, “You need to eat long noodles so you’ll have a long life.” It was non-negotiable. Even if I didn’t feel like it, they’d put a plate in front of me and tell me to just eat at least one bite for good luck.

Technically, in Filipino tradition, you’re supposed to eat pancit, which is this stir-fried noodle dish with vegetables and meat. It’s super common at birthdays, parties, or any kind of celebration. But in my house, we never really had pancit, we always had spaghetti instead. Filipino-style spaghetti, with sweet sauce and hot dogs in it. It’s kind of a thing in the Philippines, especially at kids’ birthday parties. So for me, the tradition kind of morphed into eating long spaghetti noodles instead of pancit, but the meaning was still the same.

I remember one year I asked, “Can I just skip the noodles this time?” and my parents were like, “No, do you want to shorten your life?” They weren’t completely serious, but also… kind of serious. It became this lighthearted ritual, but with a deep undertone: you do it because you respect the meaning behind it, even if it’s just a couple of bites.

2. CONTEXT 
This is something I’ve heard my whole life from my Filipino family. My parents grew up with it, my aunts and uncles too. It’s one of those traditions that gets passed down without anyone sitting you down to explain it, you just know. The idea is that the length of the noodle symbolizes the length of your life, so you shouldn’t break or cut it when you eat it. And it’s not just limited to birthdays either, it shows up at other celebrations too, but birthdays are the main one where it really matters.

Even though I grew up in the U.S., my family still brought this tradition with them. We didn’t always follow every single Filipino custom, but this one stuck. What’s interesting is how we adapted it, like replacing pancit with spaghetti, especially when I was a kid and probably pickier about food. But the core idea stayed intact, and that made it feel both traditional and personal.

3. INTERPRETATION
This superstition is rooted in a common cultural motif found in many Asian cultures: the idea that long noodles = long life. In Filipino culture, especially influenced by Chinese heritage and local folk beliefs, pancit has come to represent prosperity, health, and longevity. The ritual of eating noodles on your birthday is a symbolic act, one that links the celebrant’s life to continuity, abundance, and family tradition.

By emphasizing that the noodles should be uncut or unbroken, the tradition reinforces the value of uninterrupted life and good fortune. It also reflects a worldview where small everyday actions hold spiritual or symbolic weight, what you do with your food matters, especially during life’s milestones. In this way, eating noodles isn’t just a meal; it’s a performative wish for the future.

The adaptation from pancit to spaghetti shows how traditions evolve when cultures blend or when diasporic families make substitutions that fit their environment or tastes. Filipino-style spaghetti, which is distinctly sweeter than Western versions and a staple at birthday parties, becomes not just a workaround but a cultural hybrid, reinforcing Filipino identity in a uniquely modern way. It speaks to how immigrants and their children navigate honoring heritage while also reshaping it.

Overall, this superstition isn’t about fear, it’s about hope, continuity, and connection. It turns a birthday into a spiritual renewal and brings generations together through a shared plate of noodles, whether traditional or not.

Don’t Split the Pole!

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: San Antonio, Texas
Language: English

1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION

It’s something I’ve said countless times, probably more than any other superstition. What it means is, if you’re walking with someone and there’s an obstruction in your path, like a pole, signpost, tree, or doorway, both of you are supposed to walk on the same side of it. If you let the object split the two of you, it’s considered bad luck, specifically for your relationship or friendship.

I grew up really believing this. I don’t remember exactly who told me first, maybe my mom, or possibly an older cousin, but I know I learned it early on, and I took it seriously. It wasn’t just something to laugh about. If I was walking with a friend and we accidentally split a pole or doorway, I would stop right there, grab their arm, and say, “Nope, we have to go back and do it again.” It didn’t matter if we were in a rush or people were watching. I needed us to walk through the same way again, together, to fix it.

It got especially bad in middle school when friendships felt so fragile and important. There were so many shifts in social groups and people coming and going that I started thinking, what if this little mistake is the reason someone ghosts me or stops talking to me? I know that sounds dramatic, but when you’re young and trying to hold onto people you care about, this kind of thing feels like it could make or break your luck. So I made it into a rule. If we were friends, we didn’t split poles, period.

As I got older, I realized not everyone knew about this superstition. Some of my newer friends had never heard of it until I made a big deal about it one day. They’d walk on the other side of a pole, and I’d gasp and be like, “You just split the pole! That’s bad luck!” At first, they thought I was joking, but when I made us walk back and fix it, they could tell I was at least half-serious. Now it’s turned into a sort of joke between us. Even though most of us don’t really believe in it anymore, we still say something whenever it happens. Like, “Uh-oh, we just cursed our friendship!” But we still go back and fix it, just in case.

2. CONTEXT
I think this superstition stuck with me because it gave me a sense of control in relationships, especially when everything else felt uncertain. As a kid, you don’t really get to decide who stays in your life or who grows distant. So having a rule, even a superstitious one, made me feel like I could protect the friendships that mattered to me. I always interpreted it more emotionally than spiritually. It wasn’t that I thought a ghost would come after us or that we’d get into a fight that day, it was more symbolic. It meant we were choosing to stay connected.

Even now, if I split a pole with someone I care about, I feel off. I’ll say something like, “That was bad luck,” but deep down I’m still that kid who’s scared of losing people. So even though it’s a silly ritual on the surface, it represents something real: how hard I’ve tried to keep people close.

3. INTERPRETATION
The superstition “don’t split the pole” reveals a deeply personal and social anxiety around separation, conflict, and emotional distance, especially within friendships. Though it may seem like a quirky or humorous ritual, its persistence over time shows how folklore can become a protective mechanism. For children and adolescents, who often experience uncertainty in their relationships, such superstitions offer a form of magical thinking that reinforces their desire for stability and connection.

Culturally, the superstition speaks to a larger human fear of division. Physical separation around an object becomes a metaphor for emotional separation. The insistence on reuniting on the same side of the pole enacts a miniature ritual of repair and reaffirmation. It’s a way of saying, “We are still on the same path,” even when real life makes that uncertain.

This type of folklore also reflects how beliefs are passed on not just through formal teaching, but through lived practice and performance. It’s rarely written down or explained in detail, yet it carries emotional weight. In a historical sense, superstitions like these may have roots in older symbolic systems that treat thresholds and divisions (like doors, gates, or posts) as spiritually significant. Even if those origins are lost today, the emotional and relational logic behind the ritual survives.

Lime and Honey

Nationality: American/Ecuadorian
Age: 18
Occupation: Student
Residence: Washington, DC
Language: English

TEXT: “I remember being 5 or 6 and having this really bad cough. It wouldnt go away, but being a child I didnt tell my mom since I didnt want to go to the doctors office. I finally told my mom when I felt like the cough was turning into a cold, since I was feeling a fever coming over me. My mom walked to the kitchen and opened our fridge. She pulled out a lime, moved to the pantry, grabbed a cup and a bottle of honey. She poured the honey into the cup and squeezed lime into it, then mixed it till it wasnt as thick as the honey was. She scooped some out with a spoon, and gave it to me. My cough did go away after a days of drinking the honey, but I still went to the doctor for the fever and cold.”

CONTEXT: The informant, A.J., shared this tradition during an interview about home remedies they experienced during their childhood. A.J. remembers being sick as a child and their mom giving them a mixture of lime and honey to help soothe a cough that wouldn’t go away. They referenced not knowing exactly the cultural background, but claimed it seems like many Hispanic parents use the same remedy. The memory that made a lasting impression on A.J. was not only because the remedy worked, but because it was a comforting moment between parent and child.

ANALYSIS: This is an example of a folk remedy passed down through family and cultural tradition. The lime and honey mixture is commonly used in many Hispanic households as a natural treatment for sore throats and coughs. Remedies like this often reflect a community’s reliance on natural, accessible ingredients and the wisdom passed through generations. Even when modern medicine is eventually used, these practices show how cultural traditions and caregiving go hand-in-hand, especially in early childhood.

Black eyed peas for good luck on New Year’s

Text: 

“Every year for New Year’s, my grandma comes over and cooks black eyed peas for us and we eat them with our lunch. She always said it’s for good luck and wealth in the next year and she makes us finish all of them that day, which is crazy because she makes a lot, and I don’t even like them that much.”

Context:

My informant is from Chicago and claims that her grandmother has done this every year without missing a single year since she has been alive. She does not think it makes a difference with her luck or prosperity. 

Interpretation:

This is an example of how traditions and superstitions can overlap. Her grandmother makes the black eyed peas annually on the same holiday with the same people out of fear that she will have bad luck and poor prosperity if she does not. It shows how traditions and superstitions can bring groups of people together over a common belief and/or activity. This is also an example of how food can be symbolic for something else and, therefore, become associated with superstitions. After a quick Google search, it seems that many people believe black eyed peas symbolize coins and, therefore, eat them on New Year’s Day for good luck and prosperity in the new year.