Everybody Gets Paid Except the People Who Made New Orleans

It’s interesting that people come to New Orleans to make money.

They come for the music. The food. The festivals. The architecture. The second lines. The Mardi Gras Indians. The language. The fashion. The stories. The feeling they cannot manufacture anywhere else.

They come here, take pieces of what New Orleanians created, package it, sell it and call it an experience.

Hotels get paid. Airlines get paid. Event producers get paid. Convention centers get paid. Sponsors get paid. Out-of-state marketing agencies get paid. A few influencers get paid. Consultants get paid.

Meanwhile, the people whose creativity made New Orleans valuable are often asked to accept exposure.

Exposure is not a payment.

A social media tag cannot pay Entergy. A logo on a sponsor wall cannot cover rent. A VIP wristband cannot buy groceries. Being invited into the room means very little when everybody in that room is making money except you.

And sometimes, even the opportunity costs us.

The other night, I heard a story about a New Orleans food vendor who participated in Essence. She operated a food truck, but her assigned location was near the Hilton, away from the foot traffic she expected. People did not know she was there. They did not know where to find her.

To Essence’s credit, they refunded her booth rental. But that booth fee was only one part of what she had invested.

She had already purchased the food. She had already paid for the preparation, supplies and labor. When the customers never came, she was left carrying the cost of everything she could not sell.

The experience left a bad taste in her mouth, and not because New Orleans did not support her.

New Orleans never knew where she was.

That is what happens when access exists on paper but not in practice.

Giving a local vendor a space is not enough if the placement keeps her invisible. A refund after the damage may return one check, but it does not recover the inventory, labor or opportunity she lost.

If major events want to say they support New Orleans businesses, that support must include thoughtful placement, promotion, communication and some shared responsibility for the risks local vendors are asked to take.

Our people should not have to gamble their savings to participate in events that make millions from the culture they helped create.

This problem extends beyond food vendors.

It happens to musicians asked to perform for exposure while tickets are being sold. It happens to photographers expected to document an event in exchange for access. It happens to designers whose work appears on merchandise they do not own. It happens to filmmakers, writers, stylists, production assistants and social media managers who are told an opportunity will “look good in their portfolio.”

Everybody else receives a contract.

The New Orleans creative receives a compliment.

New Orleans has never lacked creativity. What we lack is the infrastructure to protect it, fund it and turn it into sustainable careers.

Talent is not the problem.

Our artists are talented. Our designers are talented. Our photographers, filmmakers, musicians, writers, stylists, producers, marketers and culture bearers are talented.

But talent without infrastructure becomes something other people can exploit.

Infrastructure means contracts. It means transparent pricing. It means understanding licensing, intellectual property and ownership. It means knowing what a project costs before accepting it. It means having access to attorneys, accountants, insurance, payroll support and people who understand procurement.

It means getting opportunities early enough to prepare for them.

Too often, local creatives learn about major opportunities after the teams have already been selected. The event comes to New Orleans, but the agency is from somewhere else. The lead production company is from somewhere else. The decision-makers are from somewhere else.

Then somebody remembers that the project needs to feel authentic.

That is when they call us.

They want our faces, our voices, our neighborhoods and our cultural knowledge. They want us to make it feel like New Orleans after the real money has already been divided.

We are brought in to decorate the opportunity instead of being positioned to lead it.

That has to change.

We need an administrative connector that can find the opportunities, read the RFPs, build the proposals and assemble qualified New Orleans creative businesses into teams capable of competing for larger contracts.

One photographer may not be able to handle the full scope of a major festival. One designer may not have the insurance, staffing or administrative capacity required by a large institution. One small production company may not have the cash flow to carry a project while waiting months for payment.

But together, supported by the right infrastructure, they can compete.

Collaboration should help small creative businesses grow. It should not create another gatekeeper that keeps the money, controls the relationships and makes everybody dependent on it.

The goal is not to hold creatives close so they can finance somebody else’s business.

The goal is to help them build capacity, secure larger contracts, create jobs and eventually open doors for other people.

The work should multiply.

That begins with young people.

We tell our children that creative careers are real, but many of the first opportunities available to them are unpaid internships.

That is not a pipeline.

That is a privilege test.

Young people from families with financial support may be able to work for free while gaining experience and building relationships. Many Black and Brown young people do not have that option. They are choosing between basic survival and chasing their dreams.

They need paid internships. They need transportation. They need equipment. They need mentors. They need real assignments that produce portfolio work. They need to understand contracts, pricing, ownership and how to turn their creativity into a functioning business.

They need to see that a creative career does not automatically require leaving New Orleans.

Too many of us had to leave to find work, build relationships or be taken seriously. Then, after establishing ourselves somewhere else, New Orleans suddenly knew how to celebrate us.

We should not have to leave home to become valuable to home.

Organizations such as The Ella Project, Cutting Edge, Studio BE and others have already been doing important work. We do not need to ignore the people who have been building. We need to connect that work, fund it and make it easier for creatives to move from one opportunity to the next.

We also need stronger relationships with Black business owners, attorneys, accountants, institutional buyers and procurement professionals.

Creatives do not only need inspiration. They need people who can help them negotiate, protect their work, understand their numbers and enter rooms where contracts are being discussed before the decisions are made.

This is not about keeping outsiders away from New Orleans.

People can come here. They can collaborate with us. They can invest here. They can create here.

But collaboration requires respect.

If you use the creativity of New Orleanians, New Orleanians should share in the value created. If you build a campaign around our culture, local creatives should have leadership roles and ownership opportunities. If your event generates millions of dollars in this city, local vendors should not be treated like decorative proof of community engagement.

Do not put us in the brochure and leave us out of the budget.

Do not celebrate our culture while underpaying the people who carry it.

Do not tell us how grateful we should be for access when that access leaves us in debt.

New Orleans does not need another promise that creativity will save us.

Creativity has been saving this city.

The question is whether we are finally willing to build systems that protect the people doing the saving.

Our culture creates value.

Our creativity is labor.

And our people deserve the check.

Everybody should not get rich from New Orleans except New Orleanians.

Anisa Parks

Hey, my name is Anisa Parks. I am a New Orleans-based brand strategist, storyteller, and founder of The Curated Misfits, a creative agency grounded in the belief that Identity is Architecture.

With more than 25 years of experience, I help nonprofits, healthcare organizations, small businesses, and purpose-driven brands communicate who they are and why they matter.

I am launching The Misfit Creative Network to connect overlooked creatives with collaboration, visibility, and paid opportunities. As The Curated Misfits grows, I plan to partner with HBCUs to build a talent pipeline for the agency's future.

I believe being a misfit does not mean you don't belong. Sometimes, it means you were meant to build something that did not exist before.

https://www.thecuratedmisfits.com
Next
Next

We Don’t Need Another GateKeeper