On Mardi Gras day in New Orleans, those in the know might witness the Mardi Gras Indians—also called Black Masking Indians—parading in suits covered with beads, feathers and rhinestones. The makers of the suits work on them year-round for the Mardi Gras display, correspondent Bill Whitaker told 60 Minutes Overtime: “And they are elaborate, and meticulous, and colorful, and beautiful.”
Suits worn by big chiefs, the leaders of the tribes, tend to be the most ornate by design, but other roles in a tribe are also costumed and purposeful. On Mardi Gras morning the 60 Minutes team met Elenora Brown, known as Big Queen Rukiya of the Golden Eagles. She revealed a sea-green suit trimmed with feathers, intricate beadwork, a banner reading “America,” and rhinestone alligators tucked into her sleeves. “I tell the people the story of the alligator, and how we lived, and how he took care of us, and fed us… clothes, shoes. And he is a sacred symbol of Louisiana,” she told Whitaker.
Tribes do not follow a fixed parade route; their aim is to find another tribe and stage a mock battle in which big chief faces big chief to decide who is the “prettiest.” To coordinate and protect the procession, each tribe has members with defined tasks: a spy boy, a flag boy and a wild man.
“The spy boy is at the head of the group, and he’s out looking for these other tribes,” Whitaker explained. J’Wan Boudreaux, a spy boy for the Golden Eagles, described his role: “I’m pretty much the eyes of the tribe. I’m the first person that runs into anybody. So if anybody’s comin’ with trouble, I’m supposed to sense that and know what’s coming in contact with our tribe.” Spy boys use secret hand signals to communicate across processions that can stretch for blocks.
Marwan Pleasant serves as flag boy for the Golden Eagles. The flag, bearing the tribe’s name, is used to relay information from the front to the big chief in the back. “I would send a signal to the back to let the big chief know what’s going on,” he told Whitaker.
When two tribes meet, the wild man clears space so the big chiefs can confront each other without interference. Askia Bennett, a wild man for the Young Seminole Hunters, said his job is literally to “open a big old hole” for his chief and tribe. Asked whether being a wild man requires an inner wildness, he replied, “Definitely, yes, sir.”
Encounters between chiefs can get heated and boastful. “They confront each other, talking a lot of trash… it’s like, ‘You think you look good? I know I look better,'” Whitaker described. Walter Fair, a spy boy for the Young Seminole Hunters, called it “warfare”—a competition to see who has the best suit. Ultimately, Fair said, the crowd judges the outcome: “The ‘oohs’ and the ‘ahs’ tells.”
Those public reactions matter because, as Whitaker noted, the tradition is largely about community. Historians trace Mardi Gras Indian practices back to the 1800s. The lore says the custom honors Native Americans who sheltered enslaved Black people who escaped in New Orleans. It also provided a creative outlet for Black residents who historically were excluded from the city’s main parade routes.
Joseph Boudreaux Jr., who recently became big chief of the Young Eagles after years of masking with his father, explained the tradition’s purpose: “When we say we’re out there to look pretty, it’s really for the community… back in the day, people of color weren’t able to actually participate in the carnival that New Orleans, you know, posted on post cards and everything, the parades. So to give them something to celebrate, we create these suits.” On Mardi Gras, he said, the tribes are signaling to working-class and Black communities, “Hey, you’re special as well. We’re doing this for you. You are the reason we are here.”
Whitaker asked Big Queen Rukiya what her title means to her. “It’s an honor to carry this title. Because other little girls get to see me and women get to see me,” she said. “That is the best love in the world, because they don’t know me, like, know me, know me. They know me for being a big queen. They always gonna see me in a beautiful light. When I see that they feel better, I feel better.”
This video was produced by Will Croxton. It was edited by Nelson Ryland. Jane Greeley was the broadcast associate.
