Folk performance revolves around embracing make-believe while simultaneously honoring ancestors and tradition. While New Orleans has been home to many such demonstrations in the past decades, now is the time for the city to emphasize the importance of these events, especially the three main spectacles: the Mardi Gras Indians, the Zulu Parade, and the second-lines. Through tactics of memory, the creation of locality, and the possibility of strengthening tourism, all three hold the potential to help preserve and rediscover the cultural vitality that New Orleans desperately needs to regain post-Katrina.
Traditional events first and foremost serve to commemorate and communicate the ideas, experiences, and customs of a particular culture. Remembering our roots relies upon honoring the people and places from which we have evolved. The Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club, for example, has an annual parade where they publicly dress up in grass skirts and blackface. By doing so, they recreate the activities of their ancestors, who wished to parade as the white people did but lacked the funds to buy proper masks and resultantly poked fun at themselves and society instead. In 2006, in the wake of Katrina, they added the tradition of running a float without passengers in an effective effort to represent deceased/missing members. Zulu was formed specifically for Mardi Gras, and the club’s dedication to this original celebration time allows them the advantage of sharing their tradition with large crowds, many of whom formerly did not know about or understand the history of their krewe.
Similarly, the Mardi Gras Indians make an appearance on Mardi Gras. However, they differ from Zulu in that they do not follow a set route and can also be seen parading at other times during the year, including on “Super Sunday”, when all the different tribes come together to dance. Wandering around in their intricately hand-beaded and feathered costumes, the Mardi Gras Indians pay their respects to the ancestral strength of hard work and the persistent pride of the Native Americans and Africans who worked together to free slaves as early as the 1700s. Their ritualistic costumes show reverence to ancestor spirits as well as respect for one’s hosts (who were historically the Native American people in the greater New Orleans area).
Those participating in the weekly second-line events on Sundays sometimes also honor the dead through the use of costume, donning memorial t-shirts with inspirational messages while they dance/sing/chant their way through miles and miles of the black New Orleans funeral procession. However, moreso than Zulu and the Mardi Gras Indians, second lining focuses on place memory. The band leads the way, stopping at designated houses/stores/street corners that are nostalgically significant to the particular march. In boldly “occupying public space in a crime ridden-neighborhood” where such an act is “subject to police interrogation” (Regis 758), second liners make a plethora of important statements to society. The streets they walk are redefined through united events such as second lines, where everybody comes together with a common cause – to rejoice. The corner of the shooting that killed Devon Brown transforms from a place of raw pain to be avoided. Instead, a second line can make it a landmark that reminds the community of their united march for future peace.
In keeping traditional events, costumes, and places alive, the people engage in community art. Together, members of an area celebrate, mourn, dance, scream, sing, chant, stomp, etc. Shared catharsis brings about true neighborhoods. Moreover, even competitive rituals that began as warfare activities, such as the facing off of the different Mardi Gras Indian tribe chiefs, have eventually established mutual respect and bonding. As such, community stretches across neighborhoods, creating a general sense of locality, where everybody is invited to observe or participate. The more people who witness/engage in these demonstrations, the more people who reach a new level of understanding and want to contribute to preserving unique culture.
In a time when New Orleans strives to rebuild cultural vitality, it seems most logical to begin with root culture and living tradition. Although New Orleans relies on tourism to boost its economy, the rich celebrations of the live culture has remained largely hidden from the public eye. For example, I have lived a mere two hours from New Orleans for the entirety of my life, and I am just now becoming aware that second lines, Zulu, and the Mardi Gras Indians still exist! No wonder some of these performances are dying out. Having been exposed to their cultures, I am now inspired to help preserve the unique customs in any way possible. If these customs were promoted to the world in a manner that does them the justice they deserve, I believe that others would travel here to participate and resultantly contribute resources that the local arts scene and the city of New Orleans desperately need. However, if this plan of action were to be taken, the government would need to be wary of attempting to package these events as entertainment/gimmick shows. Instead, there would need to be an agreement between the community and the government to respect the traditions’ need for improvisation and re-appropriation as members see fit. Under such circumstances, New Orleans could do the unthinkable – preserve root culture while simultaneously boosting tourism.
Works Cited
Regis, Helen A. “blackness and the politics of memory in the New Orleans second line.” american ethnologist. 2001. 752-777.
