Happy Thanksgiving to all!!! (Except for the turkey)

"For what we are about to eat, may the Lord may us truly thankful. Amen." ~Maria (The Sound of Music)

For the past three Thanksgivings, I have usually spent a great deal of time at the library or on the computer working on homework for my classes. This year I was lucky (or blessed) to not have any pressing assignments on Thursday. We didn't do anything particularly special until dinner (other than put up the usual Thanksgiving decorations, which rather pale in comparison with the black/orange paper chains and Japanese lanterns we usually make for Halloween, and of course, the coating of Christmas cards and paper decorations which adorn the house for the entire month of December). For our dinner, we had what we always have - turkey, gravy, rice, succotash (lima beans mixed with corn), cranberry fruit Jell-O, cornbread, green beans, and... did I forget anything? For dessert we always have pumpkin pie and whipped cream. When we lived in Georgia, we used to make our pumpkin pie from our home-grown pumpkins and whip our own whipped cream, but alas! No longer. When in Orem, do as the Oremites - go to Wal-Mart. Plus we already used up our scant supply of pumpkins for Halloween.

As we eat the Thanksgiving meal, it is a tradition for our dad to read us the slips of paper that we have written on all month, telling what we are grateful for. As he reads them, we try to guess who wrote them. It seems like a fairly predictable game at times, but I never get tired of it. And I suppose God never gets tired of hearing us say "Thank you" either.

After the Thanksgiving meal, we watched Thanksgiving movies - a later version of a Thanksgiving Waltons episode, and Happy Thanksgiving, Charlie Brown! And then pumpkin pie and whipped cream. No football, no Macy's Parade on TV, no group family pictures, but it was a lovely Thanksgiving all the same.

Reflections on the Folklore Project

"The first time I pulled an all-nighter in college was when I had to finish my folklore project for this class." ~Jill Rudy, our professor

Today the biggest assignment we will have in our American Folklore class is due: the folklore project, a collection of 10-12 folklore items in relation to a theme of our choice, and a 6-8 page cover essay analyzing and synthesizing our findings. As you can imagine, I have been rather close to the computer as of late. In addition to writing and compiling the project with a nice cover page, table of contents, and autobiographical sketch, we had to present our projects to the class. I took brief notes on the presentations, as I was interested in seeing what my classmates had chosen to study. Here's a quick run-through of the topics presented on by our class:

Americans living overseas
September 11 experiences
Experiences in a freshman dorm at BYU
Old wives' tales about cures
Stories about a secret gold mine in Utah
Versions of a story called "Taily-po"
Folklore among "World of Warcraft" players (Surprisingly very convincing and interesting approach - he even connected it to the American experience!)
Breakfast-making traditions (My friend sitting next to me did this one)
Experiences in high school
Experiences at the Jerusalem Center
Roommate horror stories (I want to read this project!)
Wisdom teeth removal stories (Another attention-grabbing one...)
Halloween costumes (My friend on the other side of me did this one)
Football traditions (Another surprisingly interesting one)
Folklore associated with the Spirit of Ricks
Engagement stories (Done by a guy! A married guy!)
Songs...(It was a rather...um...broad project)
Small town lore (This one was funny, since it turned out that two girls in the class were from the same small town being discussed: It's a small world, after all!)
American LDS Wedding Traditions (It wasn't until this moment that I realized the girl who was presenting it was married)

And finally, there was my project - Variations on Hand Actions for Latter-day Saint Primary Children's Songs. I raced through my presentation, but had a nice PowerPoint slide and got to cover a lot of what I wanted to. The project itself was surprisingly enjoyable, until it came to the last days of doing nothing but sitting in front of a computer, typing everything up. I had fun interviewing people and learned several things which surprised me in the process: First of all, there was so much variety in the actions! Everyone had small differences in their version of the basic actions, and a few people did things I never would have imagined, like coming up with a new verse to a song with complete actions.

Second, people seemed fine talking to me or even with the tape recorder present, but many got skittish when I suggested filming their actions with the camera. I ended up only videotaping four people, and two of them were related to me, so I kind of forced them into it. And I didn't even show any videos to the class - I just watched them to get material for the cover paper. I used the tape recorder for all my other interviews, and took as many notes as I could, although I had to keep talking or else they would become nervous again and stop talking... Isn't it ironic how people stop talking when you actually want them to talk, and vice versa... Ok. Never mind.

Third, a lot of people had very firm opinions about when hand actions should and should not be used, and the appropriateness of sign language, and so on. Before conducting the project, I didn't really consider what kind of opinion I had myself, or if it was even necessary for me to have one on such a relatively unimportant issue, but as I encountered so many different, firmly founded viewpoints, I soon became aware of what I did and did not like, and the issue ended up becoming important to me as well. I am a big fan of Primary song actions, and hope we always have them. I would even like to expand the number of songs with actions; that "Follow the Prophet" one would really benefit from having actions to sort out all the different verses.

You know you're Mormon if...you're Mormon

I become a little concerned when I hear people talking about traditions of a particular ward or LDS family as being part of "Mormon folklore" rather than Church-approved practice. Is it acceptable to call any tradition carried on by members of the LDS faith "Mormon folklore"? I think not. I am specifically referring here to examples such as missionary farewell parties, long, travel-log type testimonies, and disturbingly irreverent songs sung in a church setting, but I suppose this could also be applied to more positive, yet unofficial areas (roadshows... YW camp... the Blue and Gold Banquet...). The lables given to these activities ought to represent only the individuals who practice them. Of course, this brings up other problematic questions: How can we talk about "American" folklore without consulting every American? Do we create what we call our folklore or were we created by it? Where do we draw the line in separating our traditions with those of other people in our same folk group? Why? I am willing to make allowances for the sake of those who have a genuine interest in the subject, but I do hope that the day will come when we can stop hearing people characterize Mormon folklore in terms of funeral potatoes, green Jell-O, and movies like "The Singles Ward."

Stuffed Animal Folklore: It's a Whole Ne-ew World!

"Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff..." ~The Winnie-the-Pooh song

When I was young, I absolutely loved stuffed animals. My older brother and I amassed a collection of 70 or 80 before I turned 15. We called the whole group of them "The Gang," and divided them up into several crews ("the New Recruits," "The Great Mousefighters," "Snif-Snifs," "Jack's Crew," and, yes, the oh-so-creative "Remainder of the Gang"), each of which was governed by a crew leader. The crews would occasionally play board games and have mock fights against each other, though, to be fair, my brother and I would pre-determine the match by rolling the dice. We spent so much time developing our world of stuffed animals that we did develop it into a sort of high-context group between the two of us. Another member of the family could enter in the middle of a game or a conversation and not have a clue as to who was speaking to who, or what was going on.

This was because only my brother and I knew the names, voices, and personalities of all our animals. At one point I made a notebook with pictures and information on all the animals (unfortunately, it's long outdated by now). We also had three definite accents (unofficially labled "Swa," "Berst-berst," and "Hu") which we ascribed to the different characters. We also knew which pairs of animals were best friends, or "opposites," as we called them. It was a highly structured system; every time I got a stuffed animal, he usually got one, and vice versa.

In keeping with the typical governing laws of folklore, we came to identify certain phrases and accents with certain characters; even without hearing the accent, I'm willing to wager that my brother could immediately tell you which phrase goes with which stuffed animal/doll:

"All right, fellows - gather close!"

"Is that ice cream you're hiding behind your back?"

"Now we gotta think about this real carefully."

"You can fly, you can fly, you can fly, you can fly."

"Hu-u. I don't know about this, Richard. Hu-u."

"Ya-berst!"

"Sit-ups...and push-ups! Sit-ups...and push-ups!"

"1/4 of me thinks this is a baaaaaad idea."

How about it, siblings? Can anyone besides Daniel match the correct stuffed animal to the quote?

We had traditions for the proper caring of our stuffed animals as well. For a while, we used to sleep with all of our stuffed animals once a year, on Christmas Eve. That stopped when the numbers became too great, but it's still not uncommon to choose a select few animals to snuggle up with in the holiday season. Also, for a long time, both my brother and I used to pick an animal out of the closet each morning to be our "daily companion" for that day. It would join us as we did our schoolwork, as we played computer games, as we watched movies, and as we read books. My brother's daily companion might have even slept with him, but mine usually made its way back into the closet before bedtime, as I already had my Cabbage Patch baby doll, Nancy Potter (who, by the way, has an entirely different accent from any members of "The Gang"), to sleep with in bed. We've been inseparable bedmates since 1992, after all, and I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings.

How well do you know your folklore heroes? Part 6: Johnny Appleseed

“[He] has nurtured life instead of destroying it, and has been sensitive to the beauty of this continent, and has done something to create here a civilization. Johnny Appleseed stands for ourselves at our best.” ~Charles Smart

If you haven't heard of Johnny Appleseed, welcome to America! That's about how famous the boy with the tin pot on his head and a sack of apple seeds over his shoulder has come to be as a symbol of apple-pie-lovin-America today. There have been movies, stories, tall tales, biographies, radio programs, and much much more written and told about the gentle traveler, and if I had to pick a single folklore hero whose identity has the closest connection to the look and landscape of America, it would probably be Johnny Appleseed. With that said, it's still fun to see in what ways our personal version of him differs from someone else's.

What does he look like?

Dad: He's a younger man, maybe 30ish. He wears farmer's clothing.
Mom: 40s. He's not at all athletic. He has a pot on his head and his pockets are stuffed with apples. He sings songs, he loves children, he tells stories, he's very gentle. Like a deer. He's part of nature.
Sarah: I'd say he's 16. He wears a pot on his head. He has freckles and wears overalls.
Hannah: He's either in his 60s and 70s or maybe 15. He has curly hair, he's tall and skinny, wears overalls with a patch in the knee, a frying pan on his head, and is holding an apple with a bite taken out of it.

Here's "Scrawny Johnny":

Why is he famous?

Dad: He ran around the early United States, encouraging settlers to plant apples and fruit trees.
Mom: He planted orchards everywhere. He tried to help the land, and the settlers.
Sarah: He planted a lot of trees in random places. Oregon, maybe?
Hannah: He planted a lot of apple trees all over the country.

Was he real?

Dad: I believe he was real. His name was Chapman...?
Mom: I think so. His name was John Chapman.
Sarah: I think so. Yeah.
Hannah: Yes.

John Chapman was a real person, born September 26, 1774 in Massachusetts and died sometime in the late 1840s, although the actual date and his burial site are disputed. He did not exactly scatter apple seeds everywhere, as we sometimes think, but apparently planted them in nurseries and ensured that they would be taken care of before moving on. As for the idea of him traversing across the continental United States, he really only left a lasting impact on a few Mid-Western states: mainly Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Indiana. He was a kind of preacher as well as a planter, and was known for his kindness to animals and generosity to others. It is said that he traveled with a Bible in one hand, a bag of apple seeds in the other,and a cooking pot on his head; however, I wasn't able to find any certain evidence for any of these facts, and other sources say he carried the usual tools of a woodsman. It was also said that he wore no shoes, even in winter, which possibly led to the telling of another legend where a rattlesnake tried to bite his foot and couldn't penetrate the skin. If you want to read more about the myths and realities of Johnny Appleseed, I recommend this link, as well as the ever faithful Wikipedia entry. And I recommend watching the Disney version, too, just because it's fun.

Confession of an A-anxious student

"Please sir, I want an A!" Oliver Twist (when he got into college)

Before moving on to the creation of more exciting blog entries, I need to take care of an item of business. One stipulation of the folklore almanac is that we must account for any absences from class, and while I've been pretty faithful about attending all of my classes; in fact, other than this absence, I can only think of one day that I've missed in one class out of all of the classes of all the semesters of all the years I've been at BYU! It was a Spanish 105 class, in case you were curious, and I didn't feel too bad since 1) the class met every day, 2) I made it to every other class, and 3) as I recall, I had a whopper of a Geography assignment to complete that day.

Anyway, I did miss one day in folklore class - Nov 10 - the day when "Family Expressions and Customs" was discussed. It's really too bad because I enjoyed reading the section about expressions and customs in the book, and it would have been fun to share and listen to what the class members had to say. Still, I had to make a close call between attending class and studying for the English Language 322 exam at 11 am: the one was worth a possible wealth of folklore knowledge; the other 35% of my ELang grade. It will not surprise those who you who are well acquainted with my obsession over grades to learn that I chose the latter. And by the way, the test went quite well - 49/50.

How many Nicks would a nickname name, if a nickname could name Nicks?

"Of all eloquence a nickname is the most concise: of all arguments the most unanswerable." ~William Hazlitt

It was in the news recently that special, top-secret (that's code for "cool") nicknames have been decided upon for the family of our new president-elect. In case you were under a rock that day, aren't American, don't visit yahoo.com on a daily basis, or forgot (me!), here are the nicknames, and my brief commentary:

Barack Obama = Renegade. I have mixed feelings. On one hand, it seems all rebellious and tough and Robin Hood-like, which is really attractive and nifty; but on the other, it makes me think of an irresponsible teenager, like Aladdin, for example, running around and being scolded by his elders. "That renegade lad will come to no good!" they say, wagging their heads wisely.

Michelle Obama = Renaissance. A nice name. However, I would have preferred "Revolution," seeing as this is America, and not Italy.

Malia Obama = Radiance. Ok. But why leave it at that, I ask? Why not Radium, Radiation, or Radioactivity? Or, in another direction, we could go with Refulgence, Resplendence, and Righteousness.

Sasha Obama = Rosebud. This one is my favorite. Remember the sled? No, of course not, all you remember are those big rubbery lips.

I rather like the "R" theme - it is such a nice letter, after all (wink, wink) - but the idea of giving important people nicknames does seem a little silly. After all, what's the use of having a secret name if everyone knows it? And, on the flip side, what's the use of having a secret ultra-cool name if no one knows it?

But all of this is beside the point, which is folklore. The nicknames we choose and use obviously can say a great deal about what we think of other people, and how we prefer to be thought of. You are free to think whatever you choose in regard to the nicknames chosen for our new President's family.

And now I have a few nicknames of my own to share:

Rufie - My favorite nickname. I'm not sure where it came from, but it's easy to say and sounds very babyish, so perhaps my younger sisters made it up when they were saying my name as babies? I like it ever so much better than "Ruthie," which makes me sound like I am 7 years old and wear a pinafore and pink bows in my hair.

Vue - I absolutely hate this nickname, primarily because of the tone and manner in which my sister used to say it to me when she was mad at me. It grates my ears just to remember it.

Bobba Oofa - Babyspeak for "Baby Ruth." I'm almost sure my brother Daniel came up with this name when we were palling around in the good old days, when we wore animal slippers and drove around in a cute green train and yellow caboose.

Cupcake - My mother calls me this, since she says I remind her of Irene in the William Steig book, Brave Irene (which has since become one of my very favorite books). She only ever calls me it when I give her a good-night kiss and call her by my special name for her, which I'm going to keep a secret.

Ruthena - This is a recently acquired nickname, on account of my appreciation for Greek mythology and the opportunity I had to visit the replica of the Parthenon in Nashville, Tennessee, last August. My sister-in-law, Kirsti, who is quite talented in the area of nickname creation, came up with it in one of our numerous, nickname-laced emails to each other, and I have been fond of it ever since.

Though I don't count this as a nickname, the most common title by which I am hailed in our household, by far, is "Ru" - assumedly because my family is too lazy to complete the sound of my 1-syllable name. I bear no ill will towards the name, but I do insist on spelling it with a 'u' rather than an 'oo,' lest people confuse me with a certain small marsupial in a blue sweater.

An apple is an apple is an apple is an apple

"One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating." ~Luciano Pavarotti and William Wright, Pavarotti, My Own Story

In folklore class, we have been discussing the significance of food in American culture. We have made some rather impressive connections - everything from the apple demonstrating themes of innocence and guilt to cranberries equalizing Yankee ingenuity to tobacco representing the essence of hip pop culture. I've found our discussions and the connections made in the readings to be fascinating, but at the same time, I'm a little skeptical about the actual connections for the average American. After all, an apple is just an apple, right? Do regular people really share common values with regard to such ordinary foods? Do they attach any kind of meaning to food?

I asked my brother and sister to tell me the first American theme or connection they would think of when I said the following words. I wasn't looking for deep analysis, just any first impressions or symbolic connections which they might think exist. Here are the results:

Apple

My sister: Johnny Appleseed, health
My brother: Apple pie, Washington State (they grow a lot of apples)

Peach

My sister: It just sort of represents the South.
My brother: Georgia, the Peach State

Orange

My sister: Health again, they're good for you.
My brother: I just know they're grown in Florida and California... They used to be a treasured present, like in the days of Laura Ingalls Wilder, but not anymore.

Banana

My sister: It's a safe food, for everyone; variety - it can be green or mushy; it's good for sick people and well people; they're easy to chew.
My brother: Comedy - you can trip on one. The thought of a walking banana is funny. They're mushy and slippery.

Surprisingly, my brother hit on the same theme mentioned in Rooted in America, our folklore textbook, regarding bananas. The connection between comedy and America is a little more difficult to do on the spot, but the book manages to fudge it rather well. Overall, though, I would hesitate to say that there's anything particularly American about a single food. "As American as apple pie" may be a popular expression, but the truth is that apple pies have been in Europe since the Middle Ages. As for peaches, I learned in my food group presentation that Georgia and the rest of United States produces nowhere near the amount of peaches produced in China. Oranges are healthy, sure, but so are most fruits and vegetables. And the connection between health and America is getting harder to justify as the years go by. If the day ever comes when Americans will be forced to choose between chips and oranges, I shudder to think what will happen to our sense of identity.

In conclusion, I suppose the one lesson we can learn from this experiment is that bananas are funny. Anyone who disagrees is probably a Communist.

How well do you know your folklore heroes? Part 5: John Henry

"A hero is not measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart." ~Disney's Hercules

I had read the folktale of John Henry when I was a little girl, but didn't really remember the specific details until I looked it up again online (and of course, watched the Disney version for the first time). I knew he was a big huge muscular black man, supposedly born with a hammer in his hand, that he worked on the railroad, and that he had a race with a train and the effort killed him but he won the race. That was it. A simple, straightforward tall tale, with one whopper of a motif ("born with a hammer in his hand") right up front to let you know that it was all baloney. Or so I thought.
What does he look like?

Dad: Wasn't he Paul Bunyan's brother? He was probably Caucasian. A big muscular guy.
Mom: Maybe in his 30s, maybe 40s. A big muscular man, with a sledgehammer in his hand.
Sarah: 30. He's a black man. He has a light blue, faded shirt, and carries a hammer.
Hannah: I've never heard of John Henry!

Why is he famous?

Dad: I don't know why.
Mom: He was a railroad man.
Sarah: He beat a machine drilling into the mountain, then he died.
Hannah: I don't know.

Was he real?

Dad: Not real.
Mom: He probably was.
Sarah: I think so...yeah.
Hannah: I don't know.

The legend of John Henry is pretty straightforward, just like the version I related earlier. He was an African-American steel-driver, who challenged a steam-powered drill to a race, won, and then died of exhaustion. The actual existence of John Henry is trickier. There are a couple of theories that say he was born in Missouri in the 1840s or 50s, and then worked for the Chesapeake and Ohio Railway. If he wasn't a real man, it's difficult to say where the legend originated from, since all sources claim that he was. The episode with the steam-power drill, if it happened, is rumored to have taken place in both West Virginia and Alabama. Talcott, West Virginia still holds "John Henry Days" every year on the weekend after the Fourth of July. Perhaps I'd better start encouraging my own family to participate, at least until we can all give the same answers on these questions!