BUSINESS LESSONS FROM THE MARDI GRAS PARADE ROUTE

I’m entering my third year as the CEO of an ad agency. But it’s my first year dancing in Mardi Gras parades. Yes, while most of you hunker down to get through January and February, New Orleans is entertaining itself in a blur of a six-week long parade season.

Carnival season has fascinated me since I moved here a decade ago. The parades are remarkably devoid of corporate sponsorship; they are for the people, by the people. The floats, the food, the music, the dancers, the revelry, the beads and throws – all of this is entirely handmade, homemade and self-generated. It’s neighbors entertaining neighbors. And weeks of entertainment that can be watched nearly anywhere in the city, free of charge.

Most people think Mardi Gras is about booze, beads and boobs. We who live here know better; only the tourists do that stuff. The rest of us are greeting families on the street, throwing around a football waiting for the next float, helping kids get a better view, and hoping to catch glimpses of our kids, friends and workmates throughout the day.

In this time of pure joy, it occurs to me that there are some lessons I’ll carry forward in business as I pack away my marching boots and wigs on Ash Wednesday.

IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU.

Marching in a parade is about the effect of the group. Though nothing gets done without individual effort, a parade is not just about individuals but also the whole, the community. Being a supportive team member, being in lockstep, caring for someone injured, not leaving people behind — these things are far more important than whether you personally performed every step as rehearsed.?

?SMILING CAN CHANGE YOUR DAY AND SOMEONE ELSE’S, TOO.

As an entertainer, you pass by thousands of people so very quickly. But not so quickly that you can’t catch someone’s eye and smile. Just giving a smile to another person can change your whole day and theirs. They don’t even have to smile back; your own energy from within given freely is enough. And usually felt.

HUG PEOPLE.

I know we are taught to social distance, to follow protocol, to shake hands. But there is something magical about hugging someone on the street. When I spot one of our employees or a client or a partner on the parade route, I can’t help but run over and give them a big hug. In that moment, we are just two people enjoying the heck out of each other. At work, this translates to being emotionally generous. People should feel your warmth, whether or not a true physical embrace is involved.

THERE ARE NO BRANDS.? BUT BRANDS ARE EVERYWHERE.

New Orleans parades aren’t like Macy’s. There are no brands around in an official capacity. There are beer bottles, Popeye’s chicken boxes, horse emblems on shirts. There are Fords and BMWs driving about. But the joy of the day isn’t brought about by brands. It’s brought about by people and connection. For those of us who help build brands, there is no substitute for the lab of real life.

?GENUINE CONNECTION IS CULTURAL AND PERSONAL LIFEBLOOD.

The connection that people feel for each other and the power of shared experience is innate. It’s tribal. And it’s truly only brought about in shared space. I talk a fair amount about supporting people’s whole lives inside and outside of work, and I feel hybrid work has a lot to do with life satisfaction. But I also believe that standing shoulder to shoulder is humanly profound. And I don’t think we have to choose.

THERE AREN’T ANY SMALL JOBS.

Everyone has a job to do. There’s no parade without work. Driving the float tractor, keeping people safely on the sidewalks, serving food and drinks, street cleaning, unpacking and packing – these are as much a part of parades as the entertainers. Spectators are doing a job; there’s no point in a parade without them.

DON’T FORGET TO LOOK UP.

One of the best pieces of advice I received from a veteran parade participant: every once in a while, allow yourself to step back, look around, and take it all in. Don’t get so caught up in the doing that you forget you are part of something bigger. Take a minute to appreciate where you are, and the part you play.