Nothing takes the breath away quicker
than the sight of a black masking Indian and full regalia.
You can spot them coming for blocks.
Their brightly colored feathers rippling in the breeze.
Though the origin of this tradition is mysterious, its artistry is plain to see.
By the time these men and women are ready to display their suits on the streets
of New Orleans, thousands of hours have gone into making them.
But it all pays off on Super Sunday when the whole city comes out
to see Black Masking Indians in every part of town.
I'm Tarriona “Tank ” Ball, and this is Ritual.
Today I'm going to find out what this ritual means to the community
across generations.
Why do they devote so much time to it?
How does something that requires so much effort get passed on?
And how does the ritual evolve in the process?
I sat down with Ausettua AmorAmenkum, a Black Masking Indian, African dance
instructor, and overall community icon to better understand the bigger picture.
I am in New Orleans
in the historic French Quarter.
And I just feel so honored to be next to you as Ausettua.
Queen.
And I've been admiring you.
I told you that.
We took our selfie at the beginning. Yes.
Yes we did.
I have so many questions and I am so excited for you
to give me knowledge on things that I didn't even know,
even though I grew up in this city myself since birth.
And my first one is what is Black Masking?
Well, the term Black Masking Indians is a term that we prefer to be called.
People know us as the
Mardi Gras Indians because we came out for Mardi Gras.
Right?
We came out at that time because we could not celebrate Mardi Gras.
Black people weren't allowed to even go on Canal Street to celebrate Mardi Gras.
We celebrated Carnival.
Carnival is celebrated in Brazil, is celebrating Cuba is celebrating.
Haiti is celebrating in Trinidad.
And because New Orleans is known as the most African, most
Caribbean city of the United States, we celebrated Carnival,
so we called ourselves back in the day Carnival Indians.
But the people started saying
the Mardi Gras Indians, because the bigger name was Mardi Gras.
What's the difference between Super Sunday and Mardi Gras?
Mardi Gras, okay, so that's that morning on that morning.
Early that morning.
That's the that’s the big day.
We sowing all day, all year long to come out that morning.
But on Super Sunday, *Ausettua
Chanting* , that's when the Indians come out.
It’s just the Indians. It’s nothing but Indians.
No floats to compete with.
Just us.
So you can stand there and watch all that beauty
and pageantry that comes in front of your face.
Watch years of resistance that's manifested in creativity.
So that act of Masking Indian is actually an act of defiance,
because you saying during my time when I couldn't go on Canal Street,
couldn't drink at your water fountain, couldn’t go in Woolworth .
I'm a chief.
I'm a queen.
Do you feel as though the Indians unite the community in the neighborhood?
Every hand that help you sow, their energy is in your suit
because they help you sow it.
So then when you go out amongst the community, they all give you this love.
Because there's something about circling that energy coming around,
singing the chants, walking in the footsteps of your ancestors
and doing the same thing over and over again.
What is the means of battle?
Well,
traditionally, a long time ago there was always fights.
There was always stories about people
getting cut, getting hurt back in the day.
And so if you had a beef with somebody earlier in the year,
you would get them on Mardi Gras day.
It wasn't all the Indians, but it was a few of them that did that.
But Tootie Montana, he encouraged the Indians and not to stop
physically fighting and to fight through your creativity.
He used to say “Kill em’ dead with needle and thread” The legendary Big Chief,
Tootie Montana and his gang were all craftsmen by trade,
as carpenters, plasters bricklayers and lathers.
The hands held generations of expertise.
It's hard to know exactly how this tradition came about.
The history of the Black Masking Indians is passed down
through oral tradition and is rarely shared with outsiders.
Much about Black Masking culture connects to African ancestral masking traditions,
but it is also a product of the city's unique history.
The first sightings of Black New Orleanians dressed in Native attire
during the Carnival season were recorded as early as 1838.
In 1879, a newspaper article reported revelers dressed like Natives
chanting, “Chick-a-ma-feeno.” These words
stem from the indigenous language of the region,
and recall the close historical ties between Blacks and Native Louisianans.
Today, there are as many stories about the origins of the tradition
as there are Indian gangs, and plenty more people are content
to let the mystery be.
So it's a combination of influences from West Africa and Haiti
and creativity from New Orleans.
I don't want to take away from what the people in New Orleans actually create.
But what’s interesting is that many of the people
who practice the culture have never been to Africa.
They've never been to Haiti,
they've never been to Trinidad never been to they’ve never been to Brazil.
So how does this come out like this?
How does it you think?
I think it comes out in the DNA.
I think the memory is in the mitochondria cells.
It's in the DNA.
That's how they're connected to it.
That's what makes it so special.
That's what makes this spiritual. That's what makes it ritual like.
And in spite of all of the atrocities that black people have faced New Orleans,
we still manifest this beautiful culture?
It's a culture of resistance.
It's a culture of defiance.
It's a culture of creativity.
It's not just about looking pretty.
Pretty, pretty comes at a cost.
It comes at a cost, you know?
What we do know is knowledge within this culture is transmitted through practice.
It is passed down from hand to hand.
Montana never sold a suit that wasn't a masterpiece.
And when others followed in his footsteps, the tradition saw an enormous increase
in time and dedication for people like Chief Joe Boudreaux,
who was only two months old when he first masked Indian.
That dedication was central to his upbringing.
As the son of the great Big Chief Monk Boudreaux.
Sowing these incredible suits is something he was born to do.
Today, I am sitting with a Black Masking
Indian family, generations long.
I'm so excited to learn about your family history.
Can you introduce your family?
So we have two chiefs in one household, two different tribes.
And that's never heard because this culture is so secret and sacred.
At the end of the day, it's a competitive culture.
And so it doesn't matter if you're my dad, you're my brother, you're my cousin.
If we're in two different tribes or we meet,
we need to see who put in the most work.
Whose suit is the prettiest, who has the best chant?
You know who has the best foot work?
And so, I mean, competition is a competition.
And family in the same household.
But it's all love.
It's all love. In the end.
All love in the end.
You're very young to be a Chief.
Does it feel like a great responsibility?
It’s a blessing and honor to carry that responsibility with this culture?
Because this culture has been going on for hundreds of years and knowing that
now the cultures on my back is
just is like overwhelming in a way.
Exhilarating.
I'm definitely here for it, like Terrance said, you know,
we got to keep the culture going.
So if we don't be out there, what’s going to happen to this culture
that so many other people have done before us.
They've been trying to keep it going.
And if we just let it go, then, you know, we the ones that fail the culture.
So the creativity of an Indian suit
can go from just humble finding things, to now we spend thousands
and thousands of dollars on the suits to be able to get that look that we want.
So the elevation of the suits is just a testament to the elevation of time
and the ideas of the people that's actually doing it.
Because the things that I might feel like is top tier.
You got a generation that's coming right behind me
that is going to probably blow that out of the water
based off of all the things they’ve collectively seen.
That's the part I love about it.
It's one of my favorite parts of building a suit, honestly.
Why do you think it's so secretive?
Over 150 years ago when to be a Masking Indian in the street
literally was illegal, that the police department was actually given
instructions if they see
any Black men dancing, parading
in any kind of costume that resembles Indians to take them to jail.
So our culture has always been built on secretive
because we couldn't just be ourselves
out of the fear of just being discriminated against,
out of fear of black men who actually had native
blood being taken away to reservations.
So you had to denounce
that part of your family, your heritage.
So it was kept in secret.
So a lot of the words that Indians would use back then,
a lot of people didn't recognize the words because the words weren't meant
for normal people it’s only meant for me and another Indian
because if you understood what I was saying,
it's a possibility you could jeopardize everything.
What does Super Sunday feel like for you?
So there's a lot of weight that you walking around and you walking
miles, you know.
So the physicality of it, that's one thing.
But I think every Indian can probably tell you that they don't really feel it
until after it's over because the spirit carries you when you're wearing it.
It's not you just holding it up, it’s for me, it’s my ancestors.
And when I say my ancestors, it's not only just my ancient ancestors,
like the older guys that I grew up watching.
And I watched these guys as a kid and I seen how they put suits together,
how they pageantry was just always that much better than the next,
you know, and they always had unique things about them.
So when those older guys come around and they teach you things and they see,
okay, yeah, he took what I taught him, that makes me proud, you know.
Can you tell me one of your favorite chants?
*Simeon chanting*
That's my favorite.
What’s your favorite chant?
The same one actually.
Really, yours too?
Yeah but one of my favorite ones is actually Indian Red.
The one that we sing right before we go out.
Cause it's basically
like the calling of all the ancestors calling for protection for that day.
And the whole chant is very emotional and all that.
And I cry every Indian Red.
Can you do a little bit of it as a family?
I mean, if you want us to.
*Family chanting*
*Family
chanting* I feel lucky my own self growing up
in the city and experiencing all of this and seeing it.
But to listen to the stories firsthand, I feel so lucky to sit in your front room
amongst your family and your son's.
Thank you guys. Absolutely.
Thank you so much.
On Super Sunday, the memory of all the sacrifice—the needle pricked fingers,
vision gone cross eyed from the long hours of beading, and the special moments
they missed because of their dedication to the suit—all of it fades away.
As soon as the suit settles on their shoulders,
the person underneath is transformed.
Everyone who sees them walking that day knows they are in the presence of power.
The regal bearing of Black Masking Indians
heightens reality and echoes across the centuries.
This Super Sunday,
each generation activates the ritual with their own memories and aspirations
for the future, as the next one stands by to take their place
in the dance.