The Chico State campus is a good place to see creativity in action, especially on Halloween. When I read my email about the decorate-the-office contest, I texted some friends to arrange a walk-about.

The hallways in Ayres Hall, for example, were painted with a “yellow brick road.” The path led past a display of crepe-paper poppies, past the black wall of the spooky woods, past the sparsely planted rows of corn … to an office with a facade of a farm house sitting atop some familiar mangled ankles and lifeless ruby slippers ready for a new adventure. The artsy office workers had crafted a cyclone that hung by the office entrance, and a fan pointed in the direction of anyone who pushed open the door.

In Kendall Hall, the theme was Barbie, with a pink box big enough to hold humans and filled with Barbie accessories. We posed for selfies and clutched oversized designer purses. One eye was kept on the door in case Ken decided to make an appearance and join the photo shoot. My guess is that due to the number of visitors, productivity was down significantly in the offices that were decorated for the contest.

On Tuesday, the actual holiday, the campus threw a big staff party near the monoliths. I bumped into more fun-loving costumed coworkers, now disguised as pirates, Pokemon hunters, mermaids, action figures, literary characters and other memorable miscellanea. So many Kens. So many pink outfits and fake muscles. I was not the only one who admired the Tin Man. Being in close proximity to academia isn’t always as serious as one would expect.

And somewhere between the candy corn and Captain Marvel costumes, I thought about the changing nature of traditions.

Halloween traditions have changed during my lifetime, and are likely already changing again.

I asked some of my friends who have children in their families, and was told many kids don’t go trick-or-treating at all, or might knock on the doors of a few neighbors who are known to the family.

When my sister and I were old enough to walk to the school bus on our own, we were also allowed to roam the streets with friends until well after dark on Halloween. Fueled by miniature Snickers and Smarties, we had the energy to ring doorbells for hours.

We literally used the pillowcases from our beds and sometimes returned home to dump the candy in our rooms before heading out for more. Invariably, Mom would “check” our candy while we were gone, to see if any razor blades had been slipped beneath the wrappers. When we returned we found that many of mom’s favorite candies were “missing” from our stash.

We can lament the loss of “the good old days,” however, traditions are constantly changing.

Fifteen years ago I tried to trick-or-treat in my neighborhood with my nephew. Most people did not have their porch lights turned on and several houses were hosting parties that were not appropriate for elementary-aged children. My nephew soon wanted to go home where he had an Xbox and plenty of candy because very few kids had rung the doorbell at his own house.

It seems that this knocking on the doors and expecting candy has only been with us for a few generations.

I heard a snippet of a radio story about Halloween on NSPR, 91.7. In the early 1900s young farm boys would pull pranks on Halloween, no doubt because there was not much else to do in the middle of nowhere. This was before social media and video games were the only things that young people could ever imagine doing after nightfall, tasks which keep them safe from seasonal hazards like werewolves and witches. According to this particular newscast, the pranks became more serious as the populations in cities grew. At some point these pranks became vandalism and harmed people and property. To try to stop the mayhem, people organized neighborhood parties with events and goodies from door-to-door. With television, popular shows depicted happy Halloween events, and soon everyone wanted in on the fun. Yet, the real reason this became a “traditions” was because of capitalism. American businesses pitched the idea of buying store-bought mass and candy, and soon there were huge bags of “fun size” candy for sale near the milk and diapers.

The candy and pre-made costumes sold today at Costco bear little resemblance to Samhain, the ancient Celtic rituals that marked the harvest and included bonfires to protect villagers from spirits that may emerge when the veil between worlds was thin.

My guess is that childhood obesity was also far less “of a thing.”

In the meantime, I think our current traditions of creativity and good clean fun, as well as multiple Kens, is a nice way to spend a Tuesday afternoon when we should all be working.

Garden enthusiast Heather Hacking loves when you share what’s growing on. Reach out at sowtheregardencolumn@gmail.com, and snail mail at P.O. Box 5166, Chico CA 95927.