A demon-possessed woman trapped in the basement clawed at the door. It was Halloween night and I was 8 years old. My sisters and I huddled around the television as if it were a campfire, paralyzed with fear. We were watching “The Evil Dead,” a horror movie about college students who accidentally release demons while vacationing at a remote cabin.

We screamed together as the demon woman emerged from the basement and took shelter under our blankets. When I looked outside, shivering, I saw my mother watching unimpressed. It wasn’t scary for him.

This was nothing out of the ordinary for my mother, Pang, a Hmong shaman who frequently traveled between the human and spirit worlds. He often enters the spirit world to bring lost souls home. There is a different look of fear in his eyes.

Recalling this moment years later made me wonder: Does fear manifest differently across cultures? As someone who stands with both feet firmly between two cultures, I have seen firsthand how fear manifests itself differently in American and Hmong cultures. Culture, history, social context, and mythology shape how fear looks and feels. As a bicultural person, I have to say that it’s a little unfair to be afraid of two cultures. Double the fear, but don’t double the fun.

There are spooky stories passed down from generation to generation in Minnesota’s various cultural communities. Every Hmong child has heard scary stories about the malevolent ghost “Dab Poj Ntxoog” who disguises herself as a beautiful woman with long black hair and lures unsuspecting men deep into the forest, never to return. My Mexican American friends warn about La Llorona, or “The Weeping Woman.” She is a tragic figure who wanders near bodies of water after losing her children, wailing in pain and ready to devour your soul.

Growing up in a close-knit German American community in Stearns County, my father-in-law, Ed, fears the Erlkönig, or “Elf King” ghost, who lures children into his kingdom. By the way, I once heard a Hamline University student from Dakota recall encountering a Wendigo, a cannibalistic spirit, during a camping trip. Even though I heard him share the story more than 15 years ago, I can still imagine his large body trembling with fear as he told the story.