Tag Archives: race

John Henry and Labor Exploitation (Legend)

Informant’s Story:
“John Henry was a steel driver who, in a legendary contest against a steam-powered rock drill, died victoriously with his hammer still in hand, his heart giving out from stress.”

Context:
My informant first encountered the story of John Henry at about age six during elementary school. They vividly recall a subsequent encounter around age eight, when an episode of “Transformers” mirrored the themes of John Henry’s legend. In this episode, a Transformer, superior to all others, eventually triumphed, but at the cost of losing its humanity. This resonated deeply with my informant, “I feel like my heart got ripped out.” For my informant, the robot became a powerful metaphor for John Henry, emphasizing the importance of choosing one’s battles(They were 8 and loved Transformers, you cannot judge them too much).

My informant critically observes that contemporary adaptations, notably Disney’s portrayal in animated films and theme park attractions like Splash Mountain, tend to simplify or romanticize the story. Such retellings, they argue, overlook the harsh realities and exploitation of labor that underpin the legend. My informant’s insights reveal a nuanced understanding of the legend as something more than a story of human triumph; rather, it is a stark reminder of labor struggles and the human cost behind industrial progress.

Analysis:
The legend of John Henry embodies significant historical and cultural anxieties surrounding labor, industrialization, and human endurance against mechanization. My informant’s interpretation, while acknowledging the heroism in John Henry’s resistance, emphasizes the tragic futility inherent in competing against relentless technological advancement. This perspective challenges the common narrative framing John Henry solely as a triumphant hero, instead highlighting the exploitation of labor and the inevitability of human limitations when pitted against industrial machinery.

Furthermore, the legend’s enduring popularity, despite its darker implications, reveals deeper cultural tensions regarding the value of human life and labor versus technological efficiency and progress. The “timelessness” of the story, as identified by my informant, derives from its persistent relevance to ongoing dialogues about labor rights, automation, and social justice. This legend thus serves as a powerful reminder that meaningful societal change requires collective action rather than individual sacrifice alone, reinforcing the essential lesson to “pick your battles” wisely in the face of unstoppable forces.

The Legend of Elias White (Ghost Story)

Informant’s Retelling:
“It all began in the dense, foggy woods of Bass Lake, a place so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat echoing through the trees. Legend has it that many years ago, a slave named Elias White escaped into these woods, never to return. Elias was a big man, known for his piercing white eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Some said he had a gift for seeing things others couldn’t—things that weren’t meant to be seen.

One cold October night, Elias vanished. The slave owner searched for days. When they caught him, he was hung. A group of young campers watched from the brush. Elias, hanging from a tree branch, staring at the hikers, screeched in a strangled voice: ‘The forest keeps what it takes.’

The woods became a forbidden place after that. People whispered about strange lights flickering between the trees and an eerie voice that called out to anyone who dared enter. But the most terrifying part? Those who ventured too far into Bass Lake claimed they saw two glowing white eyes watching them from the shadows.

Fast forward to a summer night not too long ago. A group of teenagers, much like you guys, decided to test the legend. They laughed off the warnings, armed with flashlights and bravado, and headed into the forest. As they ventured deeper, the air grew colder, the trees seemed to close in, and a strange silence fell over the group.

Then, they heard it—a low, raspy whisper. At first, it sounded like the wind, but the words became clear: ‘The forest keeps what it takes.’

Panic set in, but when they turned to leave, they realized the path they came from had vanished. The forest had shifted, trapping them in its maze. One by one, their flashlights began to flicker and die. And then, they saw him.

Standing between the trees was a figure cloaked in shadows, his glowing white eyes piercing through the darkness. He didn’t move, but the teens could feel his presence, heavy and suffocating, as if the forest itself was breathing down their necks.

One of the teens, desperate to escape, shouted, ‘What do you want from us?!’

The figure tilted its head, and in a voice that sounded like leaves crunching underfoot, it replied: ‘To see what you’ve seen.’

The next morning, the search party found the teens huddled together at the forest’s edge, pale and trembling. They were alive, but something had changed. Their eyes—every single one of them—had turned a ghostly white, glowing faintly in the sunlight. To this day, they refuse to speak of what they saw, but they all agree on one thing: ‘Elias White is still out there, watching, waiting… and the forest keeps what it takes.'”

Context:
My information first encountered this chilling legend at a summer camp, narrated by an older counselor around a nighttime campfire. The setting enhanced the story’s eerie effect, amplifying its emotional impact and embedding it deeply in their memory. According to them, counselors would often use the tale of Elias White as both entertainment and a subtle warning to campers not to stray into restricted or dangerous areas of the forest. My informant recounted that the legend served as a rite of passage among campers, marking their initiation into the collective camp culture and identity.

Analysis:
The legend of Elias White embodies classic motifs found in ghost stories—escape, pursuit, punishment, and enduring hauntings—and taps into broader themes of historical injustice, lingering guilt, and retribution. Elias’s ghost symbolizes unresolved historical traumas and the oppressive past of slavery, turning a personal tragedy into a supernatural warning.

This narrative structure effectively uses fear to reinforce community boundaries, functioning as both a cautionary tale and a mechanism for social control within the camp environment. The transformation of the teenagers’ eyes symbolically conveys a loss of innocence or an irreversible awareness of darker truths.

Additionally, the phrase “the forest keeps what it takes” alludes to nature’s dominion over humanity, reflecting anxieties around human vulnerability and the unknowable mysteries lurking just beyond civilization’s edge. Thus, the legend of Elias White persists not only as entertainment but as a potent reminder of historical injustices and the enduring power of folklore to express cultural anxieties and collective memories.

“I See You” — The Nod

Performance Date: February 14th

B is a Black student at USC. In her free time, she enjoys dancing in a club on campus. B has always been close with her family, especially her grandparents, who lived through segregation in America.

According to B, every time her grandparents or her parents saw another Black person, they would nod their head as a way to say “I see you” or show recognition. Though B claims there isn’t as much weight put on the gesture now, it’s still a big part of the older generations because it’s a way for them to acknowledge other people.

Gestures are an important part of folklore, and for some cultures, the same gesture can hold more weight than it does in other cultures. In Black folklore, the head nod is a way to acknowledge and recognize other Black folks. The gesture was an important part of folklore during segregation and the decades after because it was a way for Black people to find community in spaces where they weren’t stripped of it. The gesture is still prevalent in Black folklore, but it doesn’t hold the same weight as before given the difference in racial tension and conflict between then and now. For other communities, a simple nod to someone else is given without a second thought. But for Black Americans, the nod is to make sure other Black folks feel seen.

The “nod”

KS is a 56 year old father of five who grew up in and resides in Southern Maryland. He is African American and has had his fair share of struggles as a black man.

Context: Black men have always been disregarded in society as less than. Throughout history, black men have been ostracized and discriminated against. The nod developed over time in communities and became a universal gesture in America. This was collected over dinner.

Transcript:

Collector: So what exactly is the “nod”?

KS: The nod is of huge significance between us black men. It is essentially a shared gesture among black men in which when we see each other in passing or see each other in the same space, we subtly nod at each other to indicate that we “see each other”. It’s more significant than it seems. It is a gesture of respect and recognition of each other, especially if we are in a space where we are the only black men.

Collector: Where did you learn to do this?

KS: Hmmm…. *silence* I’m honestly not quite sure. I think I just picked it up over the years and as I watched my brothers and father practice it and as I experienced more racial problems, I understood and just started doing it. It was not until I was in my teens that I realized the full meaning of the gesture. I do it to almost every black man I see, even if they don’t do it back.

Thoughts/Analysis: This is something that is both culturally and emotionally significant.
With the BLM movement very much alive and the abuse of power against black men by police officers, mutual recognition of each other’s presence and a sign of respect is necessary. This exchange reflects unity between black men and defines them closely as a folk group.

For other variations and information about the “nod”, see:

WUWM 89.7 FM | By LaToya Dennis. “The Head Nod & How It’s Used to Communicate Safety between Black Men.” WUWM 89.7 FM – Milwaukee’s NPR, February 23, 2021. https://www.wuwm.com/arts-culture/2021-02-19/the-head-nod-how-its-used-to-communicate-safety-between-black-men.

3 6 9 the goose drank wine

Nationality: United States
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Seattle, WA
Performance Date: 04/12/2021
Primary Language: English

BACKGROUND: My informant, AC, was born in the US and attended boarding school in NH. AC was very active in theater and this rhyme was something that the drama department would chant before a few other students brought to their attention that it was less light-hearted than it seemed.

CONTEXT: This piece is from a conversation with my friend where we talked about our time at boarding school.

THE RHYME: Three, six, nine, the goose drank wine. The monkey chewed tobacco on the streetcar line. The line broke. The monkey got choked. And they all went to heaven in a little rowboat!

AC: Yeah — we used to chant it like, before every show for good luck. I don’t really know where we got that from but like basically I was taught it from all the older [theater] kids and I guess they got it from the people before. But I think it might be a song or something, like there’s more words.

Me: And when did you stop [the chant]?

AC: Well um, I know you already know, some people pointed out the chant might have some racist undertones. Like the monkey that got choked on the line could be — it’s almost representative of a lynching of a black person. So yeah, we don’t use that chant anymore.

THOUGHTS: This rhyme is interesting to me because as someone who also briefly did theater in high school, I would watch other students chant this backstage before a show to get pumped up. I never really knew why this was what they chanted, it seemed completely unrelated to theater, but people seemed to really like its bouncy quality. The interpretation of the song as a slave allegory makes some sense to me. “The monkey” being a racist term for a black man and the rest of the rhyme details how the man minds his business on a streetcar until he is lynched and sent to Heaven. Some students disputed the racial interpretation of the rhyme, dismissing it as harmless. But based on the tumultuous history of the school — having been built from slave labor — I wouldn’t be surprised if that interpretation held some truth.