Category Archives: Humor

Jiggalo – Ritual

Nationality: American
Age: 18
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Language: English

Ritual Dance: Jiggalo

Context: “Jiggalo is a dance I did with my high school volleyball team before every single match we played. It’s to kind of get the team hyped up and energetic for the game at the end of our warm-up. It also brings the team together as a sort of bonding thing. It starts with everyone separating off into grade levels, so the freshman, sophomores, juniors, and seniors all go off with their grade and get a few minutes to coordinate a dance. Once everyone is ready, we come back in a circle and sing ‘Our hands are high, our feet are low, and this is how we jiggalo,’ and then one at a time, each group does their little dance.

I first learned it in my freshman year at our first home game of the year, when the team captain said ‘Alright let’s go do jiggalo’ after we warmed up. The girls who had been there the year before taught me how to do it, but because I was the only freshman on the team, I had to do the actual dance alone which was kinda fun. They’re also the ones who told me that if we don’t do it, it’s basically an automatic loss, so the tradition was very important.”

Analysis: Not many people think about sports teams as folk groups, but they can definitely be considered as such. The main focus of sports is the athletic competition, and it’s clear why, but the communal aspect of it is often overlooked as a result. The entire world of sports is home to countless rituals that are only understood by the participants and/or fans of a select sport, and my informant’s description of jiggalo illustrates this perfectly. When she first said the word, my knee-jerk reaction was “what the hell is a jiggalo?” but that just proves my point. To me, it’s just a silly sounding word that could mean anything. To my informant and her team, it’s a sacred pre-game ritual that is important enough to where if they don’t do it, it immediately condemns the entire game. A common thread in folklore is the lack of understanding by outsiders, and while this pre-game ritual may not fit the traditional ideas of folklore, I believe it absolutely fits under the umbrella.

Harvard River Run – Ritual

Nationality: American
Age: 28
Occupation: Author
Residence: Long Beach
Language: English

Ritual: Harvard River Run

Context: “As a Harvard freshman, after living in what’s known as the ‘Freshmen Yard’ for a semester, we had to choose a ‘blocking group’ which was basically a group of 1-5 other people who you were agreeing to live with in one place for the rest of your time at Harvard. After choosing your group, you’re entered into the housing lottery, which determines where you and your group are housed. There are river houses, which are the most coveted because they’re much grander than the boring yard houses, and they sit right next to the Charles river, hence the name. So, in an attempt to appease what everyone called the ‘housing gods,’ freshmen will do the river run the night before housing day, which is when everyone finds out what house they got. For the river run, you get together with your blockmates, suit up, and some people will wear ridiculous outfits but most people just try to look as nonchalant as possible because if the security guards catch you trying to do this, they will kick you out. The goal of the run itself is to go from river house to river house, taking a shot in each house, usually in the room of an upperclassman you know who opens the door for you, but as long as you take the shot on the house’s premises you’re fine. The legend has it that if you successfully take a shot at each house without getting caught, you guarantee yourself a river house. My block successfully completed the run and was placed into a river house the next day so I guess there’s some truth to it.

Analysis: College is weird. Every school has their own traditions and rituals that seem utterly ridiculous to just about everyone other than the actual students of a given school. And maybe I’m wrong, but based on everything I’ve heard about various schools, it seems like the prestige of a school is directly correlated to the strangeness of said traditions and rituals. Ivy leagues, generally being in the upper echelon of prestige, always seem to be the weirdest, but I think that adds to the overall mythos they possess. Why are a bunch of highly intelligent and ambitious students running from house to house, drinking an ungodly amount of alcohol along the way? To appease the housing gods, of course. It’s a completely absurd idea, but at the same time, it’s hilariously fascinating. The fact that nearly every freshman participates in such a strange ritual speaks to the universities’ culture, as just based on what I’ve heard from my informant, Harvard has a very unique and unified culture among the student body. And for the ritual to be conducted yearly by every incoming class illustrates just how strong folklore like this can be.

The George Santos Curse

Nationality: American

Occupation: Student

Residence: San Diego, CA

Text:

In March of 2023, just before opening day, Congressman George Santos published a video on Twitter wearing a Mets jersey where he incorrectly chanted “Let’s go Mets”. This video was posted while he was enveloped in an enormous fraud scandal, which would ultimately lead to him being expelled from Congress and sentenced to seven years in prison. The moment that the video was released, my friend was convinced that George Santos had just cursed the Mets for the 2023 season. Despite starting the year as World Series favorites, the Mets went on to win less than half of their games and miss the playoffs. In 2024 after George Santos was expelled from Congress, the Mets unexpectedly made a playoff run which was proof to my friend that Santos cursed the Mets and the curse was lifted when he was gone.

Context:
My friend lives in New York’s third congressional district, which is the district Santos represented and where the Mets play home games. He was not old enough to vote when Santos was elected, but he hated him and wanted him to be removed from office. After Santos posted the cringeworthy video on Twitter, jokes appeared online that he had just cursed the Mets and that the Mets could never win with him in office. My friend latched onto this idea, and throughout the season whenever the Mets lost he would text me about how the George Santos curse is killing the Mets.

Analysis:

This belief is a clear example of Frazer’s idea of the Law of Similarity in magic. The Law of Similarity states that a magician will produce a desired effect by mimicking it. In this case George Santos was (unintentionally) the magician, and he transferred the negativity surrounding himself onto the Mets by wearing their jersey. Following this idea, it makes sense that the curse would be lifted after Santos was expelled. Prior to being expelled from office Santos was hated for being a fraudster, but after he was expelled people began to find him amusing. This changing energy surrounding Santos was reflected in the Mets turnaround, where they unexpectedly had a great season in 2024.

How did the chicken cross the road?

Text: “How did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side.”

Context: This narrative joke was shared by the informant, who recalls hearing it as a young child. The joke was a staple of their childhood, passed down through their family and peers as a simple, classic form of humor. The informant remembers hearing it over and over, often in moments when the goal was not to get a laugh from a punchline but to enjoy the lightheartedness of the joke itself.

The informant’s experience with this joke was part of a broader cultural exposure to humor, specifically American humor, as they were not born in the United States. Upon learning English and becoming familiar with American culture, they encountered this joke in school and among friends, and it quickly became a part of their repertoire. The informant reflects that this particular joke stood out because it was so basic yet somehow funny in its simplicity.

Analysis: The “How did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side” joke is a perfect example of a narrative joke. What makes this joke work is its simplicity—there’s no complex setup or twist, just a straightforward question and answer. The humor comes from the fact that it should be more elaborate or have a surprise twist, but instead, it’s just a basic, logical answer. That kind of anti-humor, where you’re expecting something more and get something totally simple instead, is what makes it funny.

This joke has become an iconic part of American culture, and it’s one of those pieces of folklore that gets passed around for generations. The way this narrative joke is shared—over and over again—highlights how jokes can be a kind of cultural glue, bringing people together. It doesn’t matter if you’ve heard it 100 times, it still has a kind of nostalgic value, and it’s part of how humor is passed along in a community. The fact that it’s so straightforward also reflects how humor doesn’t always need to be complicated or fancy. Sometimes, it’s the simple things, like a chicken crossing a road, that make us smile and connect with others.

Informant Info

Race/Ethnicity: White

Age: 63

Occupation: Talent Acquisition Manager

Residence: Oak Park, CA

Date of Performance: April 5, 2025

Primary Language: English

Other Language(s): Hungarian, German

Relationship: Parent

A Bad Dress Rehearsal Means a Great Opening Night

Folk Belief / Superstition

Performance Ritual / Theatre Superstition

1. Text 

JP, a theatre major at American University, recounted a widely circulated superstition in theatre communities: the belief that a bad dress rehearsal portends a successful opening night. This saying, according to JP, functions as a near-ritualistic mantra invoked in the face of final-rehearsal failures.

JP shared a vivid example from her sophomore year, during a student production of 9 to 5. JP called the final dress “a total mess.” 

“People forgot lines, a quick change got botched, the curtain cue was late. Everyone was freaking out. But then the show went great. It’s one of those things that’s not logical, but people buy into it.” This account captures the performative dimension of folklore: belief is enacted even when its literal truth is uncertain or doubtful. The utterance of the phrase itself helps stabilize the group in a moment of heightened anxiety.

JP also highlighted the semi-ironic way the phrase circulates as if actors feel like it’s “cringey” or “corny.” Her reflection underscores how folk expressions often serve not just to encode cultural knowledge, but to offer psychological relief and narrative closure. In this case, the saying retroactively transforms mistakes and technical issues into signs of future triumph, effectively reversing the emotional tone of the moment.

The phrase becomes a kind of communal coping mechanism, offering reassurance and collective optimism at a time when performers may otherwise feel vulnerable or demoralized. It is also notable that the belief typically emerges in the liminal phase of production — the moment between preparation and performance — when emotional stakes are high and certainty is elusive. The ritualized repetition of this phrase in that transitional space suggests a shared desire to assert narrative control, to impose meaning on what might otherwise feel like chaos. Like many folk expressions, the value of “a bad dress rehearsal means a great opening night” lies not in its verifiability, but in its ability to provide symbolic structure to an unpredictable process.

2. Context

JP first heard the superstition “a bad dress rehearsal means a great opening night” during high school, and like other superstitions, it just stuck. Like many folk beliefs in performance communities, this one wasn’t taught formally but was picked up through informal repetition — from directors, upperclassmen, and fellow cast members reacting to chaotic final rehearsals. “It’s one of those things you hear and just kind of know how to use,” she told me.

JP’s earliest memory of it came from a community theatre production when she was 15. “We had this horrible dress run where a kid fell into the orchestra pit and then wailed like you couldn’t imagine,” she said. “And afterward, the director just nodded and said, ‘Perfect. That means we’re ready.’ And I remember thinking, How does that make sense? Why would you say that. I laughed, but everyone got it together and the show won a Bay Area Youth Theatre Award” —an appalling, yet humorous retelling.

This belief, for JP and other thespians, acts as a kind of collective coping mechanism. She emphasized that it doesn’t even have to be said earnestly to serve its purpose. Even if you don’t totally believe it, saying it out loud helps ease the panic as if it gives failure a reason. This notion  that an imperfect rehearsal balances out with a strong performance — turns a moment of instability into a ritualized expression of hope.

In theatre spaces, where energy and morale can shift quickly, JP sees this superstition as a social tool. “It lets you fail safely,” she said. “No one wants to go into opening night thinking they’re doomed. This gives you permission to believe that disaster is just a step on the way to success.”

3. Interpretation

This superstition reflects a common pattern in folk belief, the symbolic inversion of misfortune into fortune, similar to the logic behind phrases like “break a leg.” In this case, the belief that “a bad dress rehearsal leads to a good opening night” serves a psychological and communal function, especially in the liminal space between rehearsal and performance.

Theatrical productions are deeply vulnerable moments of live collaboration. The stakes are high, and performers rely on both precision and chemistry. When a dress rehearsal goes poorly — often the last chance to “get it right” before the public sees the work — the potential for panic or discouragement is immense. This superstition intervenes in that panic, reframing it as positive foreshadowing rather than failure.

The logic is symbolically satisfying: a chaotic rehearsal “uses up” the bad luck, clearing the way for the show to succeed. Whether or not performers believe this literally, the saying becomes a shared ritual, a kind of emotional triage, that helps a cast move forward with confidence.

The phrase also performs a social function: it affirms group solidarity by creating a shared narrative in the face of stress. Saying “Well, it’ll be a great opening night” acts almost like a spell invoking the desired outcome through repetition. It’s folklore that performs belief, even when belief is partial or performative.

JP’s experience with the phrase and her awareness that it’s more about comfort than causality is telling. The phrase isn’t valuable because it’s true, but because it’s helpful. It reflects a broader folkloric pattern: when people feel powerless (as performers often do in the final stages of rehearsal), they reach for ritual, repetition, and communal language to reassert agency.

Ultimately, the superstition captures a central paradox of folklore: something can be emotionally true even if it is logically suspect. A bad dress rehearsal may not guarantee a great show, but believing that it might helps actors cope, connect, and continue, which is, in itself, a kind of magic.