women in comedy

(Repost) Don't Roll with the Punchlines

When I started comedy, the first lesson I learned was that I was supposed to ignore the men's bad behavior around me. In my 3rd month at open mics, a very drunk male comedian wouldn't leave me alone, and the host told me to ignore it because "he gets like that." Later that night, the drunk comic cornered me in a booth and put his hand up my dress, something I'd later find out he had done to other girls.

A few months later, I had to tell a male comedian to stop whispering sexual things in my ear. When I left my phone on the table to record my set, he whispered into the camera that there was nothing I could do to stop him from "beating up that pussy” if he wanted to. When I told the host, he said, "he's just joking around."

Over the years, I would have this experience repeatedly: I'd see a man doing something inappropriate, I'd say something and be told to get over it. It left me with a feeling of otherness. Maybe I was too being uptight about being a comedian? So I tried to be one of the guys and pretend it didn't make me furious when they made jokes where a woman's consent was the punchline. That silence lasted all of six months. I spent the next two years standing on every soapbox I could find and trying to convince people to change, which was exhausting, combative, and ineffective.

It wasn't until a male host told me to quit coming to his show if I didn't like how he touched female comics that it dawned on me: I was going about this all wrong. Here I was trying to change the way people were when I needed to change the people.

So, I started an open mic. But then I realized how few women were signing up and that dudes were extra raunchy because there were hardly any women there. When a room full of overly confident young men are making jokes about murdering the slut who dumped him, you have an environment where most women don't want to spend their time. It is a cycle most people don't bother to break, saying, "It is what it is," but if you ask me, we made it that way, and we can change it.

So I started trying to make my open mic comfortable for everyone. I didn't tell people what to say, but I did start letting them know how what they said made me feel. I butted heads with a few people that don't signup anymore, but most seemed to grow from the experience. My open mic has a culture where other people feel empowered to speak up but rarely need to. After almost four years, we have set a new standard for what is acceptable, and the room self-regulates.

My next opportunity to work on things from the bottom up came when a theater invited me to teach a stand-up writing class. Teaching that course allowed me to intervene before someone got it in their head that a trans-phobic joke was hilarious. It gave them the chance to learn where the line was in an environment where not just one person but a whole class would make sure they didn't cross it again. It taught the entire group how to speak up, something crucial to changing our industry's "get over it" attitude before signing up for an open mic.

Now I run several showcases where I work with the next comedian level. I can influence what passes for acceptable behavior. I have a pipeline of opportunities to share with the comics I've been working with at my open mic and classes- AKA people who have learned to be funny AND respectful.

Overall, I feel pretty good about the community I have created around myself and don't often feel like an "other" anymore. It took some trial and error, but I realized the key to overcoming the feeling of otherness I had wasn't trying to go with the flow. It was to break out of the current. Being visibly true to yourself is like a beacon that calls to other "others," and if you give the signal, they'll find you. Then, little by little, you can cultivate your community and reshape even the most toxic environment.

If you are a person facing harassment, discrimination, or need an ally, email me at Sam@windypeach.com or visit a Windy Peach Comedy open mic. I promise you'll be welcome.

Comedy may not have an HR department, but that doesn't mean you don't have resources.

Don't just roll with the punchlines

When I started comedy, one of the first lessons I learned was that I was supposed to ignore the men's bad behavior around me. In my 3rd month at open mics, there was a very drunk comedian who wouldn't leave me alone, and the host told me to just ignore it because "he gets like that." Later that night, the drunk comic cornered me in a booth and put his hand up my dress, something I'd later find out he had done to other girls.

A few months later, I had to tell a comedian to stop whispering sexual things in my ear. When I left my phone on the table to record my set, he whispered into the camera that there was nothing I could do to stop him from "beating up that pussy” if he wanted to. When I told the host, he said, "he's just joking around."

Over the years, I would have this experience over and over again: I'd see a man doing something inappropriate, I'd say something, and I'd be told to "get over it." It left me with this feeling of otherness-maybe I was too uptight about being a comedian? So I tried to be one of the guys and pretend it didn't make me furious, but that lasted all of…6 months. I spent the next 2 years standing on every soapbox I could find and trying to convince people to change, which was exhausting, combative, and ineffective.

It wasn't until a male host told me to quit coming to his show if I didn't like how he touched female comics that it dawned on me: I was going about this all wrong. Here I was trying to change the way people were when I needed to change out the people.

So, I started my own open mic…but then I realized just how few women were signing up and that because there were hardly any women there, dudes were extra raunchy. When a room full of overly confident young men are making jokes about murdering the slut who dumped him, you have an environment that most women don't want to spend time in. It is a cycle most people don't bother to break, saying, "It is what it is," but if you ask me, we made it that way, and we can change it.

So I started trying to make my open mic comfortable for everyone. I didn't tell people what to say, but I did start letting them know how what they said made me feel. I butted heads with a few people that don't signup anymore, but most seemed to grow from the experience. My open mic has a culture where other people feel empowered to speak up. Y, they rarely need to because, after almost four years, we have set a new standard for what is acceptable.

My next opportunity to work on things from the bottom up came when a theater invited me to teach a stand-up writing class. Teaching that course allowed me to intervene before someone got it in their head that a trans-phobic joke was hilarious. It gave them the chance to learn where the line was in an environment where not just one person but a whole class would make sure they didn't cross it again. Most importantly, it taught the entire group how to speak up, something crucial to changing our industry's "get over it" attitude.

Now I run several showcases where I work with the next comedian level. I can influence what passes for acceptable behavior. I have a pipeline of opportunities to share with the comics I've been working with at my open mic and classes- AKA people who have learned to be funny AND respectful.

Overall, I feel pretty good about the community I have created around myself and don't often feel like an "other" anymore. It took some trial and error, but I realized the key to overcoming the feeling of otherness I had wasn't trying to go with the flow. It was to break out of the current. Being visibly true to yourself is like a beacon that calls to other "others," and if you give the signal, they'll find you. Then, little by little, you can cultivate your own community and reshape even the most toxic environment together.

With that said, if you are a person facing harassment, discrimination, or just need an ally, email me: Sam@windypeach.com or visit a Windy Peach Comedy open mic. I promise you'll be welcome.

Comedy may not have an HR department, but that doesn't mean you don't have resources.