Tag Archives: proverb

Minor Genre: Proverb – The Wolf

  1. Text: “Έβαλαν το λύκο να φυλάει τα πρόβατα.” or “They put the wolf to guard the sheep.”
  2. Informants Context: We often had sheep around us when I was young in Greece. The shepherd was one of the most common working jobs in Arcadia, my home region. We existed in a very natural, pastoral part of Greece where wildlife was very prominent and allowed to grow. This meant that wolves often surrounded the area. The shepherds knew all about the wolves – where they existed in the region, what they acted like. The shepherd was the great guardian of his herd. The wolf is a very smart creature though, often trying to find a way to get to the flock of sheep. The wolves are the enemies of the sheep. The battle of these two animals was a common occurrence in my village, we would often watch shepherds outplay the wolves or lose a sheep. The shepherd would often lose sheep at night if anything, if the flock ever went undefended. Someone had to watch the sheep constantly, even during the night. So because of this, we developed the expression “They put the wolf to guard the sheep”. We use this expression to describe when someone is being deceitful, clearly acting in a position that they cannot be trusted in. Someone has joined or infiltrated a group to clearly destroy it.
  3. Collectors Interpretation: The themes and ideas surrounding the proverb, “They put the wolf to guard the sheep” is clearly indicative of a culture that values truthfulness and loyalty. Juxtaposing those values is a skepticism toward anyone who might practice deceitfulness or make an effort to be dishonest. One could also assume that the culture deeply prioritizes the strength and sanctity of an inner-circle, refusing to let just any stranger become closely associated with families and friends. Greeks are a culture of very keen, skeptical individuals. These concepts of truth and lies, enemy and ally are clearly at least partly informed by their observations of the natural world. The hierarchy of animals proves to be a useful metaphoric tool for the class of Greeks that grew up in a pastoral setting without having the opportunity for education. It can be assumed from this proverb that the natural world has always been a tool of education for these pastoral Greeks, informing their worldview and perceptions. Not to mention that this proverb feels closely associated with or similar to the Christian proverb, “Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.” These similarities may also represent a folkloric culture in Greece that has been distinctly shaped by Christian theology and its ideas, reshaping Christian proverbs to suit their specific viewpoint. This is consistent with the theory of multiplicity and variation, how common proverbs are repeatedly restructured to fit the context of a certain culture.

Fields

AGE: 87

Date_of_performance: May 9, 2025

Language: Greek

Nationality: Greek/Canadian

Occupation: Retired

Primary Language: Greek

Residence: Canada

Minor Genre: Proverb – Truth

  1. Text: “Από μικρό και από τρελό μαθαίνεις την αλήθεια.” or “From a child and from a madman, you learn the truth.”
  2. Informants context: When I was a kid, I was sometimes difficult to deal with. Maybe oftentimes. I was really energetic and rambunctious. You could imagine me as being pretty ADHD. My parents always were going back and forth trying to get a handle of me, particularly my mom who was most responsible for disciplining me. I had an issue with self-regulating, often saying out of line, maybe socially awkward things that would be perceived as rude. For example, during one summer my family was having a pool day. This meant that my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents etc were all present as we hung out. We got a great barbecue going. I have one older cousin who is my senior by about fourteen years. At this time I was probably seven years old. Long story short, while we were in the pool with our shirts off, I saw my older cousin and noticed that he was looking a lot heavier. So I just told him very directly that him and I should work out together because he’s been getting fat. I’m not sure what I was thinking because I didn’t even know how to work out at that time. My mom was in close-proximity while I said this and immediately snapped at me. She told me to apologize and take it back. I don’t think my cousin cared that much but I was pretty paralyzed in that moment. I apologized and felt like garbage. Later my Yiayia (grandmother) was talking about what I said with some of the other women, and then she pulled me into the conversation, laughing. She shared the expression, “Από μικρό και από τρελό μαθαίνεις την αλήθεια.” or “From a child and from a madman, you learn the truth.” My grandmother actually agreed that my cousin needed to get himself in better shape. I didn’t fully understand the saying at the time, but it always stuck with me. Now that I’m older, it seems increasingly clear that it requires someone unfiltered to give us full truths on difficult topics. It’s something my grandmother continues to say to this day. It’s one of her many sayings that she sourced from her time in Greece.
  3. Collectors interpretation: The concept of the child or madman as a source of truth is almost a radical concept. There are multiple possible implications of such a statement. Firstly being what the informant mentioned: the unadulterated truth will only be given by people untethered by social norms. This implies that truth is rarely spoken for in fear of people being persecuted. The second implication is that it requires the uninhibited mind of a child or crazed person in order to allow truthful thoughts to emerge. These are fascinating concepts. Ultimately, the proverb functions well because of how simple it is despite the complexity of its idea. Additionally, it feels distinctly folkloric as it stems from the small villages of Greece. The actual implications of this proverb on Greek culture are multi-varied. I believe the proverb implies that the culture is self-aware, honest about its shortcomings and irreverent of consequences. This is the mentality of a culture that values genuine honesty, even when its not practical or politically smart. This also echoes a Christian proverb: “And he said: ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.'” Children and madmen are pure in a way, abandoning political maneuvering in favor of genuine honesty, regardless of the consequences.

Fields

AGE: 21

Date_of_performance: May 9, 2025

Language: English

Nationality: American/Greek

Occupation: Student

Primary Language: English

Residence: United States of America

Never Say ‘Good Luck’

Folk Belief / Superstition

Performance Ritual / Verbal Superstition

1. Text

In theatre communities, it is widely believed that saying “good luck” to a performer before a show brings misfortune. Instead, performers and crew members say “break a leg,” a phrase which paradoxically conveys good intentions by using language associated with harm. According to JP, “If someone’s never been in theatre before, once they enter that space, they learn quickly not to say it. We’ve all made the mistake and have said it, but then we learn to never say it again.”

JP added that in some past situations, if someone accidentally said “good luck,” others would try and undo the jinx. “There are all these mini-rituals that people do to reverse it,” she said. “Some people knock on wood, which is a common way to reverse a jinx, but others would be as creative to do the hokey pokey. One girl I worked with once literally jumped in a circle three times. It all seems a little bizarre to me.”

She also mentioned how the phrase “break a leg” can be used creatively depending on the performance. “Sometimes if it’s a musical, people will say ‘break the set’ or ‘rip your costume.’” I shared with her how I’ve heard musicians use their own variations, such as “break your axe” or “break the kit.” Similar, though different, these many variations follow that same tradition of ironic misfortune equating to good luck.

2. Context

My childhood friend JP learned the superstition during her early involvement in high school theatre. The belief was introduced not through formal instruction but through direct social correction — another student or “thespian,” if you will, reprimanded her for saying “good luck” before a performance. This moment served as a kind of informal initiation into the vernacular norms of the theatrical folk group. JP described this moment as formative: “I didn’t even know I had done anything wrong — but after that, it stuck. I never said it again. I never forgot that moment. I felt ashamed. But in reality, how silly to feel ashamed for just trying to spread positive energy before the top of the show.” This type of spontaneous correction and adoption of group norms is characteristic of how folklore is transmitted: orally, experientially, and within culturally bounded settings. The performative aspect of the correction — the other student’s visible reaction — helped to underscore the gravity of the superstition and ensure its memorability.

For JP, and theatre practitioners more broadly, this superstition operates both as a ritualized behavior to mitigate uncertainty and as a signifier of in-group identity. The phrase “break a leg” is not merely a euphemism; it is a badge of cultural belonging. To say it — and more importantly, to know why to say it — is to demonstrate that one is an initiated member of the theatrical community. JP emphasized that even if people do not literally believe in the curse associated with saying “good luck,” the phrase remains taboo. Its use is ‘policed’ socially, often humorously, but with real affective consequence. She said, “The thespians take it seriously. You can’t joke around with them in that manner. God forbid.”

She also noted that variations of the expression, such as “break the set,” demonstrate how the underlying function of the phrase is preserved even as its form changes. These creative deviations reinforce both the community’s linguistic playfulness and its shared understanding of superstition as cultural performance. In this way, JP’s experience is not just personal but indicative of broader folkloric patterns: taboo language, symbolic inversion, group boundary maintenance, and the ritualization of transitions (in this case, the movement from rehearsal to performance).

In sum, JP’s account of this superstition illustrates how occupational folk groups like theatre communities maintain their identity and continuity through orally transmitted, symbolically rich traditions that respond to both emotional and practical needs.

3. Interpretation

The superstition of avoiding “good luck” in favor of “break a leg” exemplifies what folklorists call a conversion superstition — a ritualized substitution in language that seeks to preempt misfortune by invoking it in disguise. This paradoxical formula is rooted in the belief that overt expressions of hope or confidence might tempt fate or the supernatural to interfere. Instead, the phrase “break a leg” operates through apotropaic magic — protective language or gesture that wards off evil by acknowledging its potential presence in a non-threatening or ironic way.

In the context of theatrical performance, this form of verbal ritual takes on heightened significance due to the inherent liminality of the stage experience. The stage is a high-pressure site of live creation, where the margin for error is narrow and the outcomes are public. Within this context, superstitions serve a powerful psychological function: they offer performers a sense of agency in an otherwise unpredictable environment. By engaging in these folk practices, actors enact symbolic forms of control over the uncontrollable.

At the same time, this belief fulfills crucial social functions within the theatre folk group. Language becomes a boundary marker — a verbal cue that delineates those who belong to the culture from those who do not. The phrase “break a leg” is a form of vernacular code: it identifies the speaker as a cultural insider, someone who has internalized the values, taboos, and rituals of the group. In this way, the superstition becomes a tool of informal initiation. When someone violates the taboo and says “good luck,” the group’s reaction — whether humorous or stern — reinforces shared norms and reminds all members of the behavioral expectations that sustain group identity.

The supplementary gestures often used to “reverse” the curse (e.g., knocking on wood, hokey pokey) reveal how intertextual and intertraditional theatre folklore is. These counter-rituals draw on a much wider system of folk belief found across cultures and contexts. Their presence within the theatre reinforces the idea that folklore is adaptable and layered, borrowing and blending symbols and practices in ways that suit the needs of specific communities.

What is particularly striking is the persistence of this superstition within environments that might otherwise be considered secular, rational, or progressive, such as university theatre departments. This reveals the depth of emotional and communal resonance that folklore can carry. It is not sustained by literal belief alone, but by the emotional logic it provides. It offers a symbolic framework through which performers can acknowledge and manage their fears, externalize their hopes, and participate in a lineage of tradition that links them to generations of theatre-makers before them.

In this sense, the “break a leg” superstition is not merely a linguistic oddity but a ritualized expression of vulnerability, solidarity, and shared identity. It encapsulates the human desire to ward off chaos through collective, meaningful action — even if that action takes the form of a joke, a phrase, or a symbolic contradiction.

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.

Ice Cream Scholarship

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

This story comes from BT, who was told it by his grandpa. The excerpt below comes as a section of a longer conversation, but has been pieced together for coherence and clarity. Great care was taken to preserve the language and intent of BT during this story, and was paraphrased for greater readability.

BT’s grandpa on his dad’s side was the youngest of 9 children, and the second one closest to him was 5 years older. At the time, they lived in Fort Madison on the river (a small town in Iowa). In high school, he gets a job at an ice cream shop for like 5 years up until he goes to college. The deal he had with the ice cream shop was that he got paid a few cents for the hours of work (he would get up really early and have to clean the entire store before it opened). As additional compensation, the catch was the fact that he got as much ice cream as he could ever want for free while working. While cleaning up, BT’s grandpa would mix ice cream in the machines, making super thick ice cream (going for like 3 hours). He would always put on the whole thing, peanuts, the works (for toppings). Grandpa does this for 5 years, and eventually has so much dairy, etc. that he bloats out, but also working out a lot, cleaning the store for hours, he becomes a super big kid (fat and muscle). Back when college was kinda cheap, he did his interview for the University of Iowa, to hopefully be accepted into university. He goes into the interview for the college, and the interviewer mistakes him for a football recruit. As a result, he gets a full-ride scholarship to go to Iowa without ever playing a down of football for the school, without anyone seemingly bothered to confirm his status for the entire 4 years.

This story about BT’s grandpa highlights the principle of “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” but is instead explained in narrative fashion. While BT’s grandpa didn’t do anything particularly remarkable to receive his full-ride scholarship, he never complained and would routinely brag about his good fortune to both friends and family alike. BT, from the conversation, contained a mix of both pride in his family’s story, defending its values against others listening in, and a twinge of envy for the fortune to have college paid for in full. This story, while perhaps slightly mundane, still teaches a valuable lesson in appreciating the good breaks one gets in life, and to make sure to take every available opportunity, regardless of the pathway it could lead down. As BT’s family hailed from a small rural town in Iowa, the opportunities to expand past their town were somewhat limited, but college was an excellent gateway into a wider world. While the scholarship may have been a fluke, sometimes a bit of good fortune is required to get off the ground. BT has shown growth in himself while interacting with this story over time. At first, it was a funny story about how eating as much ice cream as possible is both cool and effective to further one’s career. As BT grew older, he began to appreciate the nuance in taking rare opportunities and not letting them slip by without at least trying to see the road it leads down.