MARDI GRAS DRAMA IS ESSENTIAL TO OUR SPIRIT

By Bryan Batt
February 22, 2006

Before I moved to New York to become an actor, I had never missed a Mardi Gras. Unfortunately, Broadway producers don't adjust their show schedules around Fat Tuesday.

Some of my fondest childhood memories revolve around planning Mardi Gras costumes with my family every year. There were several years when I masked as Robin to my brother Jay's Batman. Another year, I moon-walked on a flatbed truck in full Michael Jackson regalia, circa "Thriller."

But far and away my most beloved memory is standing on my aunt's French Quarter balcony on the corner of Royal and St. Peter waiting to capture the first glimpse of my father's flambeaux-lit float to round that magical corner.

In the glow of those beautifully crumbling walls, while blaring brass and drums reverberated, I knew even as a child that this celebration was a unique tradition, steeped in history, music and culture. That spectacle and drama, which connect us to our past, are the essence of Mardi Gras.

There has been a debate both locally and nationally concerning the decision to celebrate Mardi Gras in light of the devastation we have all suffered. Personally, I cannot fathom that we would not. In a city that thrives on tourism, why would we cancel such an important source of revenue? We will be rebuilding every aspect of this city for years to come. Mardi Gras must be a part of it.

I support the city's decision to modify routes and schedules in order to properly manage the revelers, and I applaud the organizations that are dedicated to increased community activism as well as parading. All traditions can be improved, and Mardi Gras is no exception.

We will be under the media microscope this year. I pray that rather than focusing on Bourbon Street, a broader, a more inclusive and more accurate story is told. Families of all kinds -- all races, all religions -- will line St. Charles Avenue to share and celebrate our tradition. Friends will embrace each other, share stories of disaster and hopes for the future. It will be a time to remind ourselves why we love our community so much.

Besides being a Katrina survivor, I am a 9/11 survivor. Two days after the towers fell, I had to strap on butane packs, a fluffy white wig, act like a candelabra and sing "Be Our Guest" in "Beauty and the Beast." It was surreal, but we all went on not knowing the fate of our show, of Broadway, of New York or of the nation, for that matter. Two months later, Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade rolled as always. I've learned as an actor that the show must go on. So must the parades of Mardi Gras roll.

We must put on colorful costumes, ride papier mache floats, throw beads, eat king cake and, after surviving the most devastating natural disaster in our nation's history, shout, in the words of Dr. Seuss' "Horton Hears a Who," "We are here! We are here! We are here!"

It is sadly understandable that those citizens who are displaced and unable to attend will feel left out. Mardi Gras will not be the same until all of our citizens are home, and that should be foremost in our hearts and minds as we rebuild our city and traditions.

I missed nearly a decade of Fat Tuesdays, but when I returned, Carnival was so much sweeter.

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Bryan Batt is an actor and a New Orleans native who divides his time between New Orleans and New York.