Tag Archives: tradition

Great Grandma’s Chair

Age: 72

Age: 19

Text:

“In our family, we have unassigned assigned seats for dinner. After my mother, Elizabeth, passed away in the house, we would keep that seat at the table empty out of habit. Well, one day, about a year after her death, we had a guest over and so I offered my seat up to the guest. I would sit in my mother’s seat. When I sat down, I felt an immense weight on my shoulders and an overwhelming feeling of sadness. It only left me once I left the chair. I ended up having to sit at a folding chair and the chair remained empty. Since then, I do not let anyone sit in that seat as it’s her chair. Even today when I am eating at the table, out of the corner of her eye it can look like someone is sitting in the seat. I believe it is her.”

Context:

This was told to the informant by his grandmother, about his great-grandmother. It was told on Thanksgiving at family dinner. The story itself took place roughly 10 years ago.

Analysis:

In this story, a grandmother speaks about her late mother to her grandchild to explain why a seat is kept at the dinner table for someone who has died. It is a sign of respect to the dead, as well as slight fear against change. This story sparks the debate of if there is truly a ghost or if grief itself can manifest into a spiritual form. The story functions as a warning against erasing past relatives, as well as a loving tale that past relatives never actually leave the family, even in the afterlife.

Rose, Theater Ghost Memorate

Age: 19

Story: What I remember is that Rose was a former student that died in the school and haunted the theatre in particular. She would bang around in the cats [catwalks] and ventilation especially if you were the only one in the theatre. Among techs I think there was more serious beliefs about how to treat Rose, aka ghost light and personally always saying hi and bye to rose if I was the first one in or last one out, or if she made noises I would talk to her sometimes. – JH

Context: This story was told directly to the archivist as a friend. It is regarding a ghost that was thought to populate their high school theater since the program’s inception.

Teller seems fairly convinced of the rituals that go into the ghost, they mention turning on the ‘ghost light,’ which is the last light left on the stage when people have left, and talking to it in their spare time.

Theaters are often places that claim to experience ghosts. The story of Rose was passed between multiple generations of student tech workers, perhaps to explain things like the weird banging in the ventilation shafts or unexplainable tech problems. There is no evidence showing that a former student died in the school, but a mockumentary was made by some former theater students showcasing Rose’s inception.

The Sage of Room 108

Age: 50

Text (The Story): TT (my mother) told me a story from her college days in India about a particular dorm room, Room 108, which students treated almost like a sacred site.

Years before she arrived on campus, an older student, known simply as “the Sage of 108”, had lived in that very room. No​‍​‌‍​‍‌​‍​‌‍​‍‌ one was able to recall his original name. It was said that he was a very quiet, withdrawn, and even reclusive a philosophy scholar, who was so much absorbed in his meditation that he almost never spoke, hardly ate, and didn’t seem very attracted to the usual college life.

According to one version of the myth, he arrived at jivanmukti which is the freedom of the spirit during life. Another one suggested that he was able to foresee things way before time: a professor’s sudden resignation, a student’s family emergency, or even an exam question weeks before it was written. 

It was whispered that he could be none other than the very Dattatreya, the Hindu god who is the wandering teacher. Dattatreya is a character who is said to go about the world very quietly, and be there when you least expect it, in different guises, to help people. Stories on the campus, however, say that the person living in Room 108 and carrying the same vibe as Dattatreya. He was detached, loving, and very much aware without being told. 

During the last days of his final year, the Sage just went off the campus without informing anyone of his intention. He left hauling with him a single cloth sack one morning and walked out through the college gate. When someone came to his room a few hours later, they found it empty with the exception of a piece of cloth neatly folded on the ​‍​‌‍​‍‌​‍​‌‍​‍‌desk.

After that, strange things were reported. Students claimed the room smelled faintly of incense even when no one entered. One girl told TT that she stepped inside room 108 and felt a pressure, a kind of overwhelming stillness that made her leave immediately.

The administration eventually sealed Room 108. They gave practical explanations such as “structural damage” and “student safety”, but none of the students believed that. Everyone knew the real reason: the room was too spiritually charged. Too many people reported intense emotions inside it. Too many believed the Sage had left something behind.

When TT attended college, students had already begun a tradition:

Before any major exam, they would slip into the hallway, fold their hands, and offer a quick prayer outside the locked door of Room 108.

Some just tapped the door frame.

Some left flowers or pens on the ground.

Some whispered the Sage’s name, though no one could agree on what it was.

TT herself admitted that before her final board exams, she walked there with a group of friends in the early morning. They didn’t really know what they were praying for, whether it was luck, calmness, clarity, or perhaps the presence of someone who achieved spiritual awakening.

She​‍​‌‍​‍‌​‍​‌‍​‍‌ mentioned that the corridor outside 108 had this weirdly quiet vibe all the time, like the sounds were muffled. When she and her schoolmates meet for reunions, there is always a person who talks about “the Sage of 108,” and all the others acknowledge it by a nod as if it were a shared ​‍​‌‍​‍‌​‍​‌‍​‍‌secret.

Context: TT told me this story while reminiscing about her college years in India. This memorate is typically shared among alumni, usually during nostalgic conversations about exams, early adulthood, or campus myths.

The setting, an Indian university, makes belief in holy men, gurus, reincarnation, and spiritual presence feel normal rather than supernatural. Indian campuses often blend secular life with sacred spaces, and Room 108 became one such hybrid: part dorm room, part shrine, part student ritual.

This story also fits a larger South Asian cultural context where certain numbers (such as 108, a sacred number in Hinduism and Buddhism) carry deep spiritual significance.

The Teller’s Thoughts: TT treats the story with a mix of nostalgia and respect. She doesn’t necessarily claim the Sage was literally an incarnation of Dattatreya, but she believes he had a spiritual depth that left an imprint on the campus. She describes Room 108 as a place students approached with sincerity, not fear and something in between superstition and faith.

She said, “We all felt calmer after praying there. Maybe that’s all that mattered.”

My Thoughts (Analysis): This memorate blends campus legend, reincarnation belief, and folk religion into a single story.

This story functions as a sacred space on a secular campus, a rite of passage before exams, and a blending of Hindu spiritual motifs with student life. The association with Dattatreya deepens the story’s symbolic power. Dattatreya is the wandering divine teacher who appears in humble forms, and the idea that a spiritually advanced figure might quietly live in a college dorm room fits this motif perfectly.

The closure of Room 108, the lingering incense scent, and the informal prayer ritual all add to the all add to the mysterious atmosphere that made Room 108 feel like more than just a dorm room.. The story also shows how students use legend to navigate stress and this transforms anxiety about exams into a communal ritual that is rooted in cultural spirituality.

Personally, I think the story beautifully captures how folklore forms in modern environments. A single individual, remembered only in fragments, becomes a symbol of calm, wisdom, and hope for generations of students who never met him.

Oji (Kola Nut)

Object:
Oji (Kola Nut) – “Symbol of Hospitality and Unity”

Context:
The informant, I, remembers her father often asking her to bring the Oji to the table when guests were coming over. This was a tradition in their family, especially for important visits. She says her father would break the Oji and offer pieces to the guests as a sign of welcome and respect. This happened during family gatherings or when visitors from outside their community arrived.

Analysis:
The Oji holds deep cultural significance in Igbo society, representing hospitality, unity, and respect for guests. The act of breaking the Oji is not just about sharing food, but about symbolically breaking down barriers and creating a bond between host and guest. The ceremonial act reinforces the value of community and the importance of acknowledging and honoring those who visit. The passing down of this practice within families highlights the role of tradition in maintaining cultural ties and fostering a sense of belonging. Through this ritual, the Oji serves as a powerful reminder of the communal values and customs that are central to Igbo identity.

String

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: College Student
Residence: Morris Plains, NJ, USA
Language: English

The interviewee was a member of the local high school’s theater program and valued the ritual as a part of connectivity and valuing the community of the theater program. 

“When I first joined theater I accidentally found out about a surprise tradition called Lock-In so I asked questions about it. People told me there were things like scavenger hunts and that it ended with String. I asked what that was and the [G](the upperclassman) just gestured to her wrist where there was several different colors of string. It turned out to be this sweet little circle up where we all took turns throwing a ball of yarn to each other and wrapping it around our wrists then throwing it to the next person without cutting it. The thing was that we threw it to someone, not our best friend, who had inspired us or made us happy or taught us something during that season. Someone special who made their time better. Then that person would do the same thing. At the end we would all hold our wrists up in the air and the president of the ITS board would tell us that the string represented we were all connected across the departments. We would then go through a cut it so everyone could wear the string till opening. Normally people would keep the string bracelets and wear them for other seasons. I still have the string from all of 7 of my shows.” 

The tradition was something to look forward to every year. It was a way to feel included and appreciated for the hard work and long hours that were the theater program. It is also a time to reflect and enjoy the people who have inspired and helped you. Wearing the string on your arm all day for a week and seeing all the people you are connected to in the school in the halls is a way to feel unity and appreciation for others.