Tag Archives: ritual

Splitting a pole

Text

“I practice a superstition related to splitting a pole while walking with someone I care about such as my girlfriend when we are holding hands. The belief is that if you are walking with another person and you guys are separated by a pole, tree, or sign, it is a sign of bad luck due to the distance caused by the object. This is because it symbolizes a blockage in the relationship thus representing a bad omen to come within our connection. Due to this belief, I try to stay on the same side as the other person to avoid that division.”

Context

I first found out about it when walking with my friends who would suddenly grab me next to them when walking near an object telling me to not split the pole. Initially, I thought it was random and abrupt, but after hearing more of my friends who practiced this same belief, I realized it was a common practice in local US culture. Although the exact origin is unknown to me, the practice makes literal sense because the physical separation caused by the object reperesents emotional distance in a relationship. My practice of this folk belief helps me feel close and maintain strong relationships.

Analysis

From a folkloric perspective, the superstition to not split a pole reveals how in certain cultures regular objects can hold deeper meaning. In this particular belief, a pole or other object on the street takes on a symbol of an emotional blockade that leads to bad luck in a relationship. The semblance mirrors homeopathic magic, which believes like causes like. So, a separation physically leads to one emotionally. Avoidance of the split caused by a pole becomes a ritual used in everyday life that ensures love and unity. The context of this situation is important because it only applies when you are walking with someone you care about and don’t want to lose. If you are simply walking alone or with strangers the poles have no significance, which ties to folklore often being context dependent. While some folklore is learned through words this ritual is often learned through performance, or when someone physically acts to pull you from being separated.

Plane Tapping Ritual

Age: 20

Folklore Story:

“Every time I go on a flight  and I fly Southwest mainly every time I go on a flight,  I touch the little heart that’s on the outside of the plane  and I put my palm on it.  And then I as I enter the plane.  I do it as like a good luck thing and I got it from my dad because he would always do it.  He would like put his hand on and he would like pray or like say like a quick prayer.  So I just started doing it too because he would take me on flights  and it was always good. I first saw him do it at like eight because I’ve been going on flights kind of young. I like the idea of like having a child and just like picking up my kids so that they can put their hand on the heart, not the plane.”

Reflection:

The informant’s story is a textbook example of ritual and contagious magic. They describe the desire to touch the heart on the outside of a Southwest plane before boarding. This is a repeated, patterned act performed for good luck. The informant learned from her father, who would pray while touching it, that touching the heart on the plane connects you to the whole. The informant plans to pass this ritual to her own children, showing how rituals reproduce themselves through vertical transmission. This reflects a broader societal reality: despite the advancements of technology and the global dependence on it, people still exhibit small acts of control over the uncontrollable.

Comedic Ritual

Age: 20

The Story:

“I’m going to tell a story about an improv comedy club on campus. We have a lot of initiation rituals that are funny and weird and cute. I remember when I first got on the team my freshman year, that night they called you, it’s like a football draft. You audition for two teams and then they all take turns picking who they want. I got picked by my team, then I got a phone call from an unknown number to  meet me at this location on campus. They told me to meet them at *REDACTED*, which is like this little stage. “

“I went there and it’s like the middle of night, it’s like 10 p.m. and I was alone and it was dark for a little while. I thought ‘what did I sign up for?’ then they all were like dark clothes and like cloaks and they yell like comedy rules out in the woods. Then all at once they scream and yell at you to get to the stage. It was like a medieval theme going on in there. After getting to the stage, then they knight you, so you get on your knees, and then they knight you in the name of the club. It’s all in the middle of the night and terrifying, and then they take you to a secondary location.”

Pretty much all the teams do this, they kidnap their noobs, they’re called the noobs, they’re the new people, then they bring them to this diner called *REDACTED*. The staff already know just right now because it’s been happening for years. And then they treat you to just a really nice meal at this diner.

Reflection:

The informant’s story was a perfect example of how in certain folk groups, folk members must go through rites of passage to fully be accepted into the respective folk group. Additionally, it highlights the specific rituals in place amongst acceptance. I thought it was very interesting to see that these rites of passage were not only an act of dedication, but mutually were an opportunity to show the understanding of the traditions and morals of the respective folk group trying to be joined. On a more personal note, it was interesting to see some of the stigmas I may carry about clubs with rituals be broken down or disproved by an actual perspective. I, as the outsider to the folk group, had my own connotations that did not actually align with the personal experience of an actual member of the folk group. Further, it lessened any stereotypes that I carry when hearing about group initiations when hearing of clubs. I realized that in believing that many club initiations are harmful or taboo, I participated in watering down the culture and lived experience of participants of those folk groups instead of having a direct contact and understanding.

Kola Nut Offering

Age: 20

The Story:

So this story is about the kola nut. It’s not really about the nut itself, it’s an offering. The kola nut is the center of the prayer, and the prayer revolves around the core of Igbo tradition.

We believe in three chis. There’s Chukwu, which is God. And then there’s chi, which is like your guardian angel. My great-grandfather would break the kola nut in his house before he left the house. The prayer invokes your chi, invokes Chukwu to guide your steps. It also invokes an internal ethics, don’t do to someone what you wouldn’t want done to you. That’s the traditional religious version.

When someone comes to visit you, you don’t do anything until the kola nut is broken by the owner of the house. By breaking it, you’re signifying that whatever you do in the house will not harm the others. Usually the oldest male present breaks it. At events, the kola nut is broken as a symbol of peaceful coexistence. But in some Igbo traditions, only women with titles can break it.

At weddings, the nut is divided into two. The father of the bride or the bride’s kinsmen offer the kola nut to the guests. There’s a prayer for the couple to have children. If it breaks into four segments, that’s a good omen, it means the couple will have luck, lots of babies. The kola nut affirms the union of families.

Reflection:

The informant’s story reminds me of UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage (ICH) framework. The kola nut ceremony has Turner’s “two poles of the symbolic”: a sensory pole (the nut, the breaking) and an ideological pole (prayer to Chukwu, peaceful coexistence). When the nut breaks into four segments, the ritual is complete and there is a superstition grants peace and mutual existence between the two parties. The “three chis” reveal how ritual encodes worldview.

Additonally, I believe this ritual combats the Western framework of ownership. The kola nut ceremony cannot be copyrighted, as it belongs to the Igbo community; however, ICH designation risks “fossilization” or freezing a practice that was never frozen. The informant’s great-grandfather did it. And the informant plans to do so in the near future, so the chain of the tradition won’t be broken.

Band Mantra

Text:

“We we pled to serve as masters of goodwill for Tucker High School. presenting ourselves as a showcase of excellent, elegant, sophistication, spirit of the core, and dignity. Love the band. 

So that’s what we had to say. At the end of every single practice. And so it was just a reminder —those are all the things we have to be if we want to, like, wear our bands, colors, or our uniform. “

Context

The informant was a member of her high school marching band for five years, and they recited the mantra at the end of every practice. She describes her time in band as a deeply formative and positive experience. She explained that the mantra was an effective way to reinforce their collective identity and shared standard of conduct, with the students’ repetition and time together as a cohort making it meaningful.

Analysis

This mantra functions as a form of institutional oral tradition — one that channels group identity and behavioral norms through repeated, ritualized speech. Marching band culture is colloquially known for its intensity, precision, and the necessary love of the labor. The matra serves as a kind of folk covenant: a verbal agreement among members to declare who they are and how they represent themselves as a unit. It retains psychological resonance; in particular, the sign-off “Love the band” is effective, direct, and unanimous to internalize. It suggests that folk speech embedded within institutional settings can extend beyond the institution itself, becoming part of their identity and continuing even after the collective context has ended.