Tag Archives: practice

First Communion

Age: 22

Text:
“At my First Communion, they took us up to the practice ceremony with all of our parents upstairs in the church. We had to practice eating the communion, representing the body of christ, and drinking the wine, representing the blood of christ, and we drank the wine. I remember saying, this is so gross really loudly, and my parents got so mad at me. The actual day was really fun. We got to wear our dresses and take pictures outside the church. It meant that I was growing up, and it was a really important milestone for my religion.

Context:
A Catholic girl from Phoenix discussing her First Communion, a coming of age ritual in Catholicism, and what it meant to her.

Analysis:
Her First Communion Served as a signifying moment in her religion, marking the moment that she’s growing up. It took preparation and practice because of how significant it is. She remembers the act vividly, specifically noting that wearing a pretty dress was an exciting part of the event. It’s also interesting how children remember moments of stress, even over moments of pure excitement.

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.