Tag Archives: tradition

Christmas Crowns, Cracker Jokes, and “Reindeer Poop”

Word of Mouth From my Mother

If you didn’t notice son, Christmas is a carefully choreographed tradition–I like to think of it as a mix of cozy ritual, a bit of British custom, and some parental magic. Every year, we manage to host your aunts, uncles, grandparents, and family friends under one roof, crowding them around a long dinner table for a meal that never changes: your father’s signature roast, buttery potatoes, and whatever else[she talked about as these dishes seeming to appear out of nowhere but feeling like they’ve always belonged]…

…You remember the main custom, before the meal begins, we all pop Christmas crackers, wear the paper crowns, and tell the corny jokes or trivia questions. Everyone has to wear their crown, no exceptions. [Something of a silent rule.] Inevitably, [Uncle name] brings the energy to the meal as he tries to guess the answer to someone else’s riddle before they finish reading it. It’s chaotic, silly, and comforting–exactly how it’s supposed to be…

…Remember on Christmas eve, we’d leave out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa, and you and your sister would go to bed, your father and I would leave out a few wrinkled dates in the front yard as “reindeer poop.” We’d also make sure that before Every Christmas morning, no matter how old you two[me and my sister] got, the milk would be half-drunk, the cookies nibbled, and the dates scattered. Even now, when you all know the “truth,” we still put the plate and dates out. It’s tradition…

Context

I interviewed my mom about our family’s Christmas rituals, and she lit up almost immediately. “It’s the one time of year when everyone is just… there,” she said. For her, Christmas was always about creating a sense of continuity–blending traditions from her own childhood with the new ones she and my dad created when we were young. The paper crowns and Christmas crackers come from my dad’s British side of the family, and they’ve been part of every holiday she can remember. “You can’t not wear the crown. It’s just part of the meal,” she joked.

She described how she and my dad would take turns arranging the Santa plate late at night–taking a careful bite of the cookies, sipping the milk just right, and tossing a few dates in the yard to complete the illusion.

These rituals weren’t grand or showy, but they were performed with deep consistency. Even now, with the kids grown, my parents still go through the motions–not because we believe, but because we remember.

Analysis

This Christmas tradition is an excellent example of domestic folklore: habitual, symbolic acts carried out within the family to affirm identity, belonging, and memory. While none of the individual actions–crackers, roast, Santa plates–are unique on their own, the specific combination of these elements, repeated year after year, becomes a form of narrative performance that binds the family together.

The Christmas crackers and paper crowns reflect a cultural carryover from British holiday customs, adapted into the family’s American context. They serve as both props and prompts–each one delivering not just a joke but a shared experience. The insistence on everyone wearing the crowns transforms a simple object into a badge of belonging, and the ritualized groaning at jokes adds a performative dimension to the meal.

The Santa cookies and “reindeer poop” represent another key aspect of holiday folklore: magical realism within childhood belief systems. These actions deliberately blur the line between fiction and reality, giving children something to believe in while also offering parents a way to perform care and wonder. Even as belief fades, the actions remain–now functioning not as proof of Santa, but as proof of love and continuity.

In this sense, the tradition has matured alongside the family: once a tool of imagination, it now functions as a nostalgic ritual that reaffirms connection across time. The ongoing performance of the Santa plate–even when no one is fooled–embodies the essence of folklore: shared meaning enacted again and again, not because we need to believe, but because we want to remember. It’s part of the ties that bind our family together and I will definitely continue this tradition–if not add onto it–with my own kids when the time comes.

Día de Los Reyes Magos (Three Kings Day)

Transcript of Interview with my Informant:

Each year on January 6th, my family celebrates Día de Los Reyes Magos, or Three Kings Day, a tradition with roots in Catholic faith and Hispanic culture. The story goes that Melchor, Gaspar, and Balthasar–guided by the star of Bethlehem–brought gifts to the newborn Jesus. In honor of this event, our family gathers at someone’s home (sometimes mine) and shares a special sweet bread called Rosca de Reyes. The bread is circular, topped with colorful dried fruit, and contains hidden figurines of baby Jesus inside.

During the celebration, each family cuts a slice of the Rosca. If someone finds a figurine inside their piece, they’re “chosen” to host a gathering later in the year–symbolizing both a blessing and a responsibility. It’s a mix of excitement and groaning laughter when someone finds one; some are honored, others jokingly curse their luck.

On the night before, January 5th, children place a shoe near the door or under the Christmas tree, awaiting small gifts from the Three Kings by morning–just as kids do with Santa Claus on Christmas. While we’ve adapted parts of the tradition for our life in the U.S., the essence remains: a celebration of faith, family, and culture that marks both the joy of giving and the hope of a new year.

Context:

My informant first became aware of the significance of Día de Los Reyes Magos as a child, but admitted they didn’t initially recognize it as a distinct or formal “tradition.” Growing up in a Hispanic family in the U.S., the celebration felt like an extension of everyday life–something “normal,” even if classmates or neighbors didn’t understand it. The ritual of gathering around the Rosca and the playful suspense of finding the baby Jesus figurine stood out as moments of connection and community.

Celebrations would rotate between family members’ homes, often becoming larger events when someone “won” the figurine. These gatherings served not just as cultural practice, but also as a form of reunion–bringing relatives together after the holidays for one more festive moment. The act of putting out a shoe for gifts was a quiet, joyful echo of Christmas traditions, but with its own spiritual undertone tied to the biblical Magi.

The informant noted that these rituals, though modest in scale compared to holidays like Christmas, carry a different kind of emotional weight. They blend the sacred with the familial, and even the humorous–like the yearly joking dread of having to host the next party. Though they didn’t see their upbringing as “filled with traditions” at first, reflecting on this holiday made them realize how layered and meaningful these recurring events are.

Analysis:

The Día de Los Reyes Magos tradition functions as a cultural bridge, connecting the informant’s Hispanic heritage with their life in the United States. Like many diasporic traditions, it has been adapted to new social contexts–reshaped by work schedules, school calendars, and community life–yet remains firmly rooted in Catholic ritual and familial bonds.

The act of sharing the Rosca de Reyes and discovering the baby figurine exemplifies how folklore can use food as both a symbolic and functional tool. The bread becomes more than a treat–it’s a ritual object, one that assigns roles (the future host), invites storytelling, and reinforces familial obligations through humor and fate. In this way, the tradition embodies both luck and labor: blessings that come with responsibilities, just as faith comes with commitment.

Furthermore, the informant’s reflection illustrates the invisible ubiquity of folk practices–how traditions can be so woven into daily life that their significance is only recognized when viewed from outside or upon reflection. The use of shoes to receive gifts also echoes other folk traditions (like Dutch Sinterklaas or Saint Nicholas Day), showing the shared human impulse to mythologize generosity and moral reward during midwinter festivals.

Ultimately, this tradition is not just about religious observance. It is about identity–how faith, food, family, and folklore sustain cultural memory and offer moments of grounding and joy in the midst of American life. It’s a celebration not just of the Three Kings, but of the endurance of heritage in a changing world.

Las Posadas

Nationality: Mexican American
Age: 23
Occupation: Supervisor
Residence: Los Angeles
Language: English and Spanish

Text: “Every December, my family would take a trip to Jalisco, Mexico, from where we are from. For nine nights starting from the 16th to the 24th, we do Las Posadas. It starts with a procession, where kids and adults carry candles, sing songs, and walk from house to house, asking for shelter just like Mary and Joseph did. At each house, they will deny us entry until we get to the last house, and we all gather to pray, sing more songs, and eat food like tamales and pan dulce. The last night is the biggest; there’s a piñata usually shaped like a star and a lot of fireworks and kids running around playing games.” 

Context: My informant told me about this ritual that she does every year. As a kid, she started participating, dressing up as an angel, but now she helps her mom organize the singing and food. Las Posadas are elaborate with actors for Mary and Joseph and scripted songs. 

Interpretation: Las Posadas is a ritual that transforms sacred narrative into a performance. This ritual is rooted in Catholic tradition but shaped by local Mexican customs; it reenacts Mary and Joseph’s search for lodging as a form of communal empathy. The nine nights reflect both religious devotion and a buildup of community. The use of candles, song, food, and movement through space blends sensory experience with spiritual meaning, making the tradition memorable and multi-generational. The piñata is in the shape of a star, ties religious symbolism, and is indigenous. 

Seollal (Korean New Year)

Text:

Seollal is the first day of the Lunar New Year in Korea. On Seollal, you bow to your elders, play games, and visit your hometowns. Seollal(설날) is the Korean New Year, usually falling in mid-February. It is one of Korea’s biggest holidays, with many people taking several days off of work to spend time with families. Often, people travel back to their hometowns or visit family members/in-laws. There is also a ritual called sebae(세배), where people bow deeply before their elders and wish them a happy new year and good fortune, and in turn the elders give them money in envelopes.

Context:

The informant, having lived in Korea their whole life, participated in Seollal every year. At first, they were the ones to bow to their elders and receive money, but as they grew older, they began to be the ones to sit as their younger family relatives bowed.

Interpretation:

There is a lot of emphasis on filial piety, and more than that, respect for your elders and your ancestors. For example, you lay out food for your ancestors at the table or a memorial/shrine. I feel like there is a major emphasis on Confucian piety in Korean culture, as well as a reminder of the strength found in community. When you bow to your elders on Seollal, it is more than a bow–you are literally on your knees, head on the ground, essentially showing utmost reverence and respect for the elders’ wisdom and impact on your life. You(as the younger person) have the responsibility to visit your hometown, your origin, not the other way around, showing the idea that you never truly leave your family behind, which is a foundational concept in Confucianism. Through this practice, families reaffirm their connection to the past and show gratitude and respect to their ancestors and elders.

Foods like tteokguk (rice cake soup) are essential to Seollal. Eating tteokguk is believed to symbolically grant one a year of age, connecting food rituals to the passage of time. Furthermore, traditional clothing like the hanbok and folk games like yutnori also play a role, reinforcing cultural identity and intergenerational learning. This latter point is especially important; as Korea quickly evolves to match the demands of modernity, many traditional aspects of Korea’s culture are at risk of disappearing or losing their value. By participating in holidays such as Seollal, families are teaching the future generation the importance of remembering their history and culture.

Piñata

Text:

“Whenever there’s a kids birthday party, we get a piñata with candy in it and have the kids strike it down to get candy. So a piñata gets hung up and one of the adults swings it around as kids try to bring it down with a stick. The kids take turns starting from youngest to oldest, with the idea being that they don’t want the piñata to break too quickly, so the older kids who are most likely to break it go last. Once the piñata breaks, everyone runs up to the candy and grabs them.

Context:

The informant simply participated in this as a kid, and learned that this is something that just happens at birthday parties, and is something to look forward to.

Interpretation:

The piñata plays a central role in gatherings such as posadas, birthdays, and other social events. The communal act of breaking the piñata—surrounded by singing, cheering, and sharing treats—encourages group participation and the sharing of joy/laughter. This reflects the highly valued concept of communitas, interdependence, and festivity with those close to you. Furthermore, a child’s birthday is not seen as a quiet, private event, but something to be shared with the whole community to experience.

I find it interesting that although the piñata originated in Latin America, it spread to other cultures around it. For example, I personally did not grow up in a Hispanic or Latin household; however, I distinctly remember going to other people’s(also non-Hispanic) birthday parties and breaking the piñata, as well as having a piñata at one of my own birthday parties. I feel like this is a prime example of how a culture can travel, and have other cultures adapt aspects of it while also sprinkling some of their own traditions.