Category Archives: Life cycle

“The Boy Who Cried Wolf”

MAIN DESCRIPTION:

CL: “This is a good one and has been a common one for generations and especially among brothers where you don’t complain constantly for no good reason or make a big deal out of nothing because if you are always ‘crying wolf’ then no one will really listen to you when it is something important that requires others to help or when you actually need their help. Also don’t lie or embellish something to get attention because when you do have a truth to tell, no one will actually believe you.”

INFORMANT’S OPINION:

JL: What do you think this phrase means, and why is it important?

 CL: “It means that if you keep exaggerating or making problems out of nothing, people will eventually stop taking you seriously. It’s a warning against being overly dramatic or dishonest. When you truly need help or have something important to say, others won’t believe you because you’ve lost their trust from constantly ‘crying wolf.’ The phrase teaches the importance of honesty, credibility, and knowing when it’s truly important to speak up.”

PERSONAL INTERPRETATION:

JL: I have heard this phrase many times growing up with my two older brothers when we would fight. Since I am the youngest, I would constantly tattle on them over the little things and my parents would eventually get tired of me complaining.However, I do understand the lesson behind it. It’s about being responsible with your words and actions. Specifically when seeking help or attention. If you constantly overreact or lie about things, people will stop believing you when something serious happens. I can see how this idea is useful in day-to-day life, as it teaches us not to exaggerate small problems and to value the trust of those around us. I’ve tried to apply this in my own life by making sure I speak truthfully and only make a big deal out of things when it truly matters. It’s a reminder to keep your credibility intact and be careful with your words.

The Scaley Mocus

Age: 20

Story: When I was a little kid—maybe four or five—my mom used to freak me out with this made-up monster called the Scaley Mocus. One night I was playing outside after dark and she just yelled from the porch, “You better come in or the Scaley Mocus is gonna get you!” I had no clue what a Mocus even was, but it sounded disgusting. Like, slimy and creepy and hiding just out of sight. It was super easy to be inside after that…there was no chance that you would have caught me outside once the street lights turned on.

But my parents also used the Mocus for things other than being inside before dark. It was their go-to excuse for anything off-limits. If I ever tried to touch a dead bug or if I was misbehaving at dinner, my dad would just go, “Scaley Mocus is gonna love that!” and that was it, I was done. They basically used this invisible monster as a parenting tool, and it worked.

I never actually saw it, of course, but my brain created images of it all the time. In my mind, it was like this slimy, see-through jellyfish-like creature with creepy fingers and a wet slapping sound wherever it went. I thought it lived under beds or in the closet, just chilling, waiting for me to stay outside too late, or waiting for my parents to give it the “Okay” to come and get me.

Now that I’m older, the Scaley Mocus no longer scares me, but sometimes my parents will bring it up just to see my reaction. I find it funny now that they used this to scare me and my siblings, and to be honest, I can’t wait to use this with my kids when I’m older.

Analysis: This story told by my friend about the “Scaley Mocus” offers a fascinating example of how personal or family-invented legends function similarly to broader folk narratives. Even though the Scaley Mocus isn’t a widely recognized creature, it served a traditional folkloric purpose: instilling behavioral norms in children through fear and storytelling. Similar to creatures like the Boogeyman or the Jersey Devil, the Scaley Mocus was used as a parenting tool to maintain boundaries, enforce rules, and explain the unknown in a way that resonated emotionally with a child’s imagination.

What’s particularly interesting is how this story highlights the organic creation of folklore within a family unit. It wasn’t part of a communal oral tradition, but it still carried the facets of folklore. It also demonstrates how folklore is dynamic and adaptable, as this invented legend took on multiple roles (bedtime threat, dinner table enforcer, etc.) depending on what the situation called for. Now, as my friend reflects on it with humor and nostalgia, the Scaley Mocus continues to live on in memory and could even be passed down to the next generation—just like more traditional legends.

The Ghost Hitchhiker

Age: 19

Story: This is a story about a ghost that still scares me to this day. One night, my family and I were going on a roadtrip from New Jersey to South Carolina, and it was late at night. I was tired, and I was staring out into the distance as we were driving south down I-95. This is when my mom would tell me a story that would shake me to my core, and I don’t know why, it’s not even that scary. Okay, anyway, she told me the story of the Ghost Hitchhiker. 

We were driving, and she said “Look out the window, have you ever seen a hitchhiker?” 

Now, I actually had never seen a hitchhiker in real life, but I’ve seen movies, so I said, “Yeah, I’ve seen one before.”

And my mom goes, “Well, chances are that was the Ghost Hitchhiker…” 

So I said, “Who is the Ghost Hitchhiker?”

And my mom would go on to tell me that the Ghost Hitchhiker looks like any other hitchhiker, just a guy sticking his thumb out, and if you pull over and let him in, he’ll get in the back seat of your car, and say something like, “Just up the road,” or “Not too far.” However, you would drive a couple miles up the road, waiting for him to give you the heads up for when you were approaching his destination, and then you’d turn around to find…that he was no longer in the car. He had disappeared.

I remember my mom started laughing after telling me this, but I did not laugh at all. I think she felt bad because she said, “Don’t worry, I’m not picking up any hitchhikers…but if I do, keep an eye on them, okay?” But, like I said, to this day, I always think about the Ghost Hitchhiker whenever I’m driving on any highway…and unfortunately, I don’t think I’m picking up any hitchhikers anytime soon.

Analysis: This ghost story, shared by my friend about their mom’s tale of the Ghost Hitchhiker, highlights the way folk narratives are passed down casually through family storytelling. The Ghost Hitchhiker legend is a great example of the vanishing hitchhiker tale, a widely recognized motif in ghost folklore where a seemingly real passenger disappears without explanation. These stories often blur the line between imagination and belief.

What’s especially interesting is how this story fits into broader cultural meanings of ghosts in folklore. In many ways, ghosts often symbolize warnings or trauma, but in stories like this, they also serve as a reminder of the thin line that exists between the natural and supernatural world. The hitchhiker’s request to be taken somewhere, but never actually reaching their destination  becomes a metaphor for the unreachable, or the liminal space of the unknown. Stories like these are obviously very powerful, as this one has found its way into their adulthood. 

The Ghost That Saved my Grandmother’s Life

Age: 20

Story: I remember being like 12 or 13 when my aunt started having crazy… and honestly terrifying dreams.  There was maybe a period of 4 or 5 months where my aunt would call my mom every other week or so and tell her about a ‘ghostly figure’ that appeared in her sleep that night. She was never really able to explain what happened or what the ghost looked like, but she would always call feeling a little shaken up, and she would always ask how her mother (my grandmother) was doing, who was living with us at the time. Not that it was odd for my aunt to ask about my grandmother, but it was every single time that she had one of these dreams, she would start the call with “How’s Momma doing?” Luckily, my grandma had been doing good for these 4 months. 

It wasn’t until the 5th month of my aunt having these dreams that they became more prominent and more specific, to the point where she had 3 dreams, or I guess nightmares, 3 nights in a row, and she could make out the ghostly figure to be her grandmother, my great grandmother. On the first night of the dream, her grandmother stood at the foot of her bed and just stared at her. On the second night of the dream, she had moved to the side of her bed where she slept and was leaned over staring at her, and on the 3rd and final night of the dream, her grandmother pulled in closer and said “Your mother is bleeding. My daughter is dying. She needs you”

That morning my aunt woke up and called my mom immediately, screaming that we needed to take my grandmother to the hospital. Of course, my mom was freaking out about this and was trying to make sense of why in the world my aunt would call like this out of nowhere, and she just kept saying “Trust me on this. Please, Mommom says we have to.” So, we did just that. We trusted her and we took my grandma to the hospital, and lo and behold… she was bleeding internally.

My grandma got the help she needed, she stayed in the hospital for a few days, and came back home with us, healthy and happy. My aunt never jokes about ghost stories, so I believe her on this one… To this day, I believe that my grandma wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for those ghostly dreams.

Analysis: When my friend first told me this story about her aunt’s dreams, it immediately struck me as a powerful example of a personal ghost narrative—one that really blurs the line between the supernatural and the everyday. Her aunt started having dreams of a ghostly figure, and over time it became clearer and more intense, eventually revealing itself as her own grandmother. The final dream—where the ghost says, “Your mother is bleeding. My daughter is dying. She needs you”—is a classic turning point. That’s when the dream crosses from eerie to urgent, and her family actually acts on it.

What makes the story so compelling is how it follows a narrative rhythm we see a lot in oral traditions: three escalating encounters, each one more specific than the last. That repetition builds tension and gives the story weight. It also shows how ghost stories, especially in families, often function less as entertainment and more as a way to convey emotional truths or even life-saving warnings. In this case, the family listened, and found out her grandmother was indeed bleeding internally. That outcome gives the story legitimacy and reinforces the idea that dreams and ancestral presence can hold real power.

Even if someone doesn’t believe in ghosts, stories like this show how folklore is deeply woven into how we process fear, intuition, and care for loved ones. My friend’s story is more than just spooky—it’s a reminder of how personal and meaningful ghost stories can be, especially when they exist within family bonds and generational memory.

The girl and her games. 

Nationality: African American

Primary Language: English

Other language(s): French

Age: 49

Occupation: Digital Marketing Consultant

Residence: Upstate, NY

Performance Date: 4/18/2025

Context: 

My informant, YD, is a family member of mine who lives in the Hudson Valley area of New York. YD has always been into music, YD’s was a fantastic singer, and music was their whole thing. Though I’d never really asked about their earliest exposure to music, not like on the radio, but more like a tall tale, something that had to be passed over, like musical performances by the campfire on a lonely night with a couple of friends. So, they told me this:

Text: 

“The earliest musical experience or song attached to a personal history are the various patty cake games I played as child on the playground, after school and during the summer with a group of adolescent girls. These are songs sung between two people while hand-clapping and hand-slapping in unison, and with rhythm. These were songs like ‘Miss Mary Mack,’ or ‘Down Down Baby.’ I learned them from other girls on the playground and females in my family. They were passed down through generations with slight lyrical and rhythmic variations. I know my mother and my grandmother had their own variations. 

Why this stands out and is important to me is because of the history and impact of generations of young girls being taught my mommies, aunties and sisters; these whimsical yet deep songs are fun and have little meaning as a child, but deeper meaning as you get older and realize the things you were sing about. The socialization of kids, the fantasy and awareness of hardship and evil intent. We were so carefree and blissful, yet the world around us was dangerous, sad and we were so vulnerable. 

Here’s one those song I remember:

‘…Down down baby, down by the roller coaster

Sweet sweet baby, I’ll never let you go

Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy pow

Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy pow

My momma said to pick the very best one….’”

Analysis: 

Yes, this entry is a great example of children’s folklore, particularly in the form of hand-clapping games, which are rich sites of cultural transmission, memory, and performance. And so, I assume I don’t have to explain much about songs like the ‘patty cake’ one, but, in my research, the songs like “Miss Mary Mack” and “Down Down Baby” have circulated across generations, especially among young girls, often passed down orally with slight lyrical and rhythmic changes depending on region, family, or even the moment. These rhymes, on the surface, seem playful and nonsensical, but as YD notes, they often contain deeper themes that only become clear with age, even something I grew up realizing from my personal experiences as well. I love the way YD reflects on these songs too, it’s exactly what makes these pieces of folklore so powerful. They function as socializing tools, helping children build rhythm, coordination, and friendships, while also encoding cultural knowledge in a form that’s accessible and repeatable. What hits hardest for me is the idea of inter-generational bonding, something the history behind these childhood games supports heavily. This makes YD’s personal memory not just nostalgic, but part of a larger cultural practice that links them to their ancestry and community. And I think that duality, innocence on the surface, depth underneath, is what makes playground folklore so endlessly fascinating.