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My favorite New Orleans parade: The Krewe de Jeanne d'Arc

I went to college far away north in Ohio, where schools and businesses shockingly did not close for a whole week at Mardi Gras. For me, the most difficult aspect of living so far away from home wasn't snow or ice or even distance from my family—it was no Mardi Gras. My earliest true memories center around parades. I remember around age 4 catching a giant stuffed toy from a float and lugging it through the thick dancing crowds. For a brief moment, I remember losing sight of my parents and grandparents, but feeling entirely unconcerned precisely because it was Mardi Gras—the time when a crowd of strangers becomes one big happy family, helping each other onto ladders, lifting kids up to the floats, dancing together to the jubilant wail of brass bands, sharing fried chicken and beer. Mardi Gras, I have found since earliest childhood, fills and heals.


So one semester I proposed to my friends that we should skip a day or two of classes and drive down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Some were scandalized. Not about the skipping classes, but about the Mardi Gras. "You go to that?" they asked. "Isn't it like, kind of... crazy?"


If you're not from Louisiana in general and maybe the New Orleans region in particular, you may not know anything of carnival but the sequestered hedonism of Bourbon Street (tourists, y'all). But Mardi Gras is not the bacchanal portrayed by outsiders who don't understand; it's a singular and shining experience of what we are made for: communion.


I could yammer on for hours about each unique krewe that rolls during carnival, but today I want to tell you about my favorite parade.

The tiny and beautiful Krewe of Jeanne d'Arc rolls every January 6 to open carnival. This date marks both Epiphany and Joan's birthday (how fitting, given her special mission was to crown the French dauphin, that her birthday is King's Day!).

Unlike most krewes that ride elaborate floats through the streets, this one is a walking parade modeled after medieval tableaux.

Exquisitely costumed women, children, and a few men walk through the chronology of Joan's life, from her childhood to her military campaign to her martyrdom and finally to her entrance to Heaven—this last group dresses in gauzy white and gold and sings a gorgeous hymn.

Each section carries banners that proclaim Joan’s own words in both French and English.

Their throws include tiny handmade toys, dolls, candles, and other symbols of Joan's story. I even received a handknit golden crown.

The parade route winds through the French Quarter, including a stop in front of St Louis Cathedral for a blessing by local clergy (peak New Orleans may actually be a Catholic priest blesses a raucous, bourbon-swigging crowd as they watch a costumed krewe parade the story of a saint's life). Fun fact: every year, a local teenage girl who studies French is chosen to ride horseback as "Joan" through the parade.

We stand to watch at the Maid of Orleans statue in the Place de France near the French Market. The statue was a gift from the people of France to the city of New Orleans ("Nouvelle Orléans"). The small surrounding park features plaques with coats of arms from towns and cities connected to Joan, including Orléans, Rouen, and Reims. (Fun: This statue looks like a twin of another located across from the Louvre in Paris).

The Krewe of Jeanne d'Arc also hosts many events throughout the year, including art contests, French-langauge readings, and their annual May 30 festivities for Joan's feast day. The feast day events include a service of vespers at the Old Ursuline convent, followed by bringing flowers to the Maid of Orleans statue and, of course, a French Quarter party.

I love this parade so very much—the most beautiful opening to carnival season and reminder of our eternal destiny. Parades, like all feast days and holidays and seasons and celebrations, matter because they're an opportunity to connect the visible and invisible, the goodness of body and soul, the gift of our senses and the gift of grace.  I feel this way about Mardi Gras as a whole, and the Krewe de Jeanne d'Arc parade shines with that sacramentality.





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