Michael Lueger: Welcome to the Theatre History Podcast, a podcast produced for HowlRound Theatre Commons, a free and open platform for theatremakers worldwide. Hi, and welcome back to the Theatre History Podcast on HowlRound. I'm Mike Lueger and it's wonderful to be working with HowlRound once again on this show. We're doing a nine-episode season with episodes publishing every Wednesday. Just a quick note, all of these interviews were recorded earlier—in some cases a few years ago, in other cases, earlier in 2021. Today's interview was originally recorded in 2018. Okay, thank you for listening and enjoy the show.
Hi and welcome to the Theatre History Podcast. I'm Mike Lueger. On November 11th, 2017, Tiffany Haddish made history. That was the night she hosted Saturday Night Live, becoming the first Black female stand-up comedian to do so in the show's forty-two-year history. That striking fact illustrates the degree to a which mainstream stand-up comedy has been largely dominated by straight, white men, which in turn has done a lot to condition our expectations for what comedy is and what we should expect it to do. However, there's a new, more diverse generation of comics who are challenging some of those assumptions. And today we're joined by Dr. Rachel Blackburn, who's been exploring the recent stand-up comedy and how it's beginning to change. Rachel is an assistant professor of theatre at Columbus State University and a longtime stage director and performer. Rachel, thank you so much for joining us.
Rachel Blackburn: Oh my gosh. Thank you for having me.
Michael: Can we start by talking about a term that keeps coming up in your work? It's the term intersectionality; could you please help define that and explain why it's so important?
Rachel: Oh, absolutely. Intersectionality is a term that was coined by a Black critical race theorist and scholar named Kimberlé Crenshaw. And Kimberlé Crenshaw was coming out of the legal field in the early nineties. And basically, she saw overlapping areas of discrimination that were systemic specifically for Black women. And she was realizing that with Black women being subject to both racism and sexism, they were overly being—the population was unfairly targeted in overlapping ways that people who are not sitting with intersections of identity, that are some alternate identities or people that experienced discrimination from two or more facets of their identity. She was realizing that these women were going to jail and being incarcerated at greater rates, and she felt that basically antidiscrimination law was not doing what it should have been doing to help these women.
So she coined the term intersectionality to describe the fact that Black women, especially as defined by the legal system, were experiencing both sexism and racism. And with that is this idea that basically a lot of us have intersections of our identity that inform our worldview. So race, gender, sexuality, religion, nationality, able-bodiedness, or disabilities. Those are all things that shape how we view the world and how the world views us.
Michael: And I've noted that in your writing, you always make a point of identifying—as you talk about each of the comics who you study—you always make a point of talking about them in terms of those various categories: race, sexual orientation, able-bodiedness, and so forth. Why did you feel that it was so important to do that?
Rachel: The short answer is that, that is a very shortcut way to describe their positionality that they're coming from in their comedy, which is pretty essential to getting at a more accurate and insightful interpretation of what their comedy's doing. But also on a deeper level, those that are considered minorities, whether that's race, gender, able-bodiedness, disability, sexuality, whatever it might be, those that are disenfranchised and put on the margins are often required to identify themselves and acknowledge those intersections of identity when they perform comedy. We ask of Black stand-up comics to acknowledge the fact that they're Black and to speak to their Black experience. A couple of the comics that I write about, Francesca Martinez and Josh Blue, both have cerebral palsy. If they came right onto the stage physically differently abled with their cerebral palsy and then didn't acknowledge it or talk about it, the audience would revolt or perhaps maybe just walk out confused.
Anytime someone identifies as something that's other, we are asking of them to acknowledge that. And so for me, when I was writing about all of these different comics, I was with Black comics, with differently abled comics, with homosexual comics, with nonbinary gendered comics, and so on and so forth. I was always having to say, “Listen, you need to know that this is part of their identity because this is what's informing their comedy.” But it would've been a mistake to not also do that for people who identify as white and heteronormative and able-bodied, because if we're not acknowledging those things about ourselves and only asking that labor from others, then we're not acknowledging the idea that whiteness, heteronormativity, these have been defaulted as mainstream or normal; they've been defaulted as normalcy.
So the act of acknowledging that about ourselves, or when I'm writing about a white, straight male comic, who's able-bodied and cisgendered, acknowledging that about him, I'm not just putting the labor of that onto these other comics. We're marking them in ways that are othered. I'm also marking everyone. So I suppose in my writing, it was my way of trying to acknowledge not just where their positionality is for their comedy, but just acknowledging that we all read the world from our identities and marking them as appropriate.
Michael: So as a history podcast, I suppose we ought to talk a bit about the history of intersectionality and stand-up comedy. I wondered if we could start with Moms Mabley. Could you explain who she was and where she fits into the history of stand-up?
Rachel: Yeah, sure. I'll talk about Moms Mabley all day if you want. Moms Mabley—what's interesting about her is that Moms Mabley really came to prominence for white audiences in the sixties and seventies. And well, maybe earlier—maybe fifties and sixties is better. And she was a stand-up comic. Now what's interesting about her is that a lot of people say that in the history of stand-up comedy that they feel Bob Hope was the first stand-up comic because of the way that he structured his comedy performances. But Moms Mabley came from the world of vaudeville and the Chitlin' Circuit, and she was performing comedy on those circuits in the thirties and forties. So really, it's my own historical designation, but I would claim that she's the country's first stand-up comic, period. Not just first female stand-up comic, but first stand-up comic.
So Moms Mabley is very interesting because part of her stand-up comic persona was that she was this older heterosexual woman that was a bit lecherous and that she lusted after young men. One of my favorite lines of hers is, "He was so ugly, it hurt my feelings". But unbeknownst to her audiences, Moms Mabley was actually a lesbian and considered herself somewhat non-binary. And she dressed androgynously in private and with her friends and immediate family circle. So yeah, she rose to prominence later on, and she's often tokenized as the country's first Black female comedian. But again, I would say she's really the country's first stand-up comic. And unfortunately, sadly, her life is an example of—she had this whole hidden private world of the intersection of her sexuality and her gender and was not able to explore it in her comedy at the time. But that said, she did pave the way for so many more comedians to come after her, particularly Black female comedians to come after her, and to take up that mantle and move with it in new directions.
Also, interestingly, about Moms Mabley, CNN did a documentary series a couple years ago in 2017, and it was, I want to say a five or a six-part documentary series where each episode was devoted to a particular subject of stand-up comedy. And there was an episode devoted specifically to women, but the only two women that they spoke to, or even showed clips from on that episode, were Ali Wong and Margaret Cho. There were no Black women at all. If I remember correctly, I think there was a brief image, a still image footage of Moms Mabley, but they didn't talk about her. They didn't address her, didn't talk about how she really got the whole art form started in the US. Yeah, it's a shame. Actually, years later, Whoopi Goldberg took a real interest in her and did a documentary on Moms Mabley—I think that's on HBO. And there's also a woman, a performer, and I really regret that I can't remember her name right now, but she researched Moms Mabley and performed a one-woman show as Moms Mabley on Broadway in New York years ago.
Michael: Now, you just mentioned Whoopi Goldberg, probably a name and a face much more recognizable to most listeners. But you've said that there's some interesting history there as well. You especially point to her 1985 special Direct From Broadway as this underappreciated landmark. Could you explain a little bit more about that?
Rachel: Actually that's the best way to put it; underappreciated landmark, for sure. Whoopi Goldberg's performance in 1985 was a one-woman show called Direct From Broadway. And I have written about this show—until someone proves me wrong, I'm going to say it is the first truly intersectional performance that focuses on intersectionality and intersectional identity that we see in the theatre or stand-up comedy in this country. So the reason I say that Whoopi Goldberg, this show, is so ahead of its time. First of all, obviously Kimberlé Crenshaw hadn't yet coined the term intersectionality. Not that she invented the idea of it, because obviously Whoopi Goldberg and Alice Walker and the Combahee River Collective, these were groups that were talking about intersectionality and intersectional identity in scholarly or artistic ways. But just to give you a sense of how ahead of this time this show was, so Whoopi Goldberg in Direct From Broadway, she creates five characters and each character is someone who sits at the crossroads of identity of Blackness and another identity that… well actually, multiple. Two or three or four identities—the facets of their identity that place them in the margins.
So you have five characters and there are some things that are perhaps slightly outdated about the show, which is mainly the language. So when I say the names of these characters, I'm referring to how she refers to these characters, not my own terms for them. But she calls one character The Cripple, one character The Junkie, there's a little girl, there's a Jamaican woman. And these are all characters who are confronting intersections of Blackness and disability, Blackness and being female, Blackness and being young. Even though it's purely comedy, they all have stories that we see the confrontations they have with the world stemming from those identities and how the world doesn't respond to them in kind ways as a result of those identities. The Jamaican woman gets essentially hired by a white man and brought over to the US. And he really approaches her one of two ways: either as a sexual partner or as a maid.
And The Cripple has experiences of course, being someone who lives with disability. The young girl is already facing the idea that she has a hard time seeing herself as be beautiful because her features and her hair do not meet the standards of Eurocentric beauty standards. So they’re all facing these things in different ways. The show ends with the character of The Cripple and ultimately, The Cripple gives us the last line of the whole show, which is: “Normal is seen in the eye of the beholder.” And what is really significant about that is that, the Americans With Disabilities Act hadn’t come out until 1990. And it wouldn’t be until the mid-nineties that we would have academic departments studying and doing disability studies at major universities across the US. That wouldn’t happen until 1994.
And at the center of studies and disability theory is what they call the social model of disability, which is to say that essentially disability, the way that Whoopi Goldberg frames it too, she’s essentially using a social model of disability when she says, “Normal is in the eye of the beholder”. So normalcy is not necessarily what we think of it is. Normalcy is a socially constructed model. So the idea that for example, perhaps someone living with the disability of only having one working leg, let’s say. To people who have two working legs, we look at that disability and see it as not normal and different, but for the person that walks around with one leg, that is their normalcy, that is their life. And essentially, they live in a world that’s determined socially that walking on two legs is what’s normal. But not necessarily, or it doesn’t have to be that way.
And so, centering on the question of, What is normalcy? is really at the heart of disability studies and Whoopi Goldberg is doing all of this in 1985. So it’s funny actually, speaking of theatre history, I was just teaching ancient Indian Sanskrit theatre to my theatre history students this past week. And I was talking about how they were incredibly ahead of their time in terms of understanding the effect that theatre had on its audiences and how to connect with audiences. And essentially Sanskrit theatre and people living in ancient India in the fourth and fifth centuries of the common era, they were really using audience reception theory to inform how they created their theatre. And then when I was talking about this with my students, I was like, “Guys, audience reception theory doesn’t come out as a body of theoretical work until postmodernism thousands of years later. Do you know how ahead of their time there was?”
So anyway, so I look at Whoopi Goldberg and I look at her Direct From Broadway happening in 1985. She is on the cusp. She’s really quite on the cutting edge of using the intersectional statements that the Combahee River Collective and writers like Alice Walker and Audre Lorde and these great figures are putting out at the time. They’re just beginning to talk about this. And Whoopi Goldberg’s already created a whole performance around this concept.
Michael: Another intersection involves race and gender and identity. And in particular, you point to Wanda Sykes and Margaret Cho as two really interesting examples that started to change the popular understanding of queer female identity in stand-up. Could you talk a little more about those two?
Rachel: Yeah, absolutely. So Wanda Sykes and Margaret Cho are two queer women of color. And really—and again, until I learn otherwise; it's quite possible that there were other female comedians that were owning their queerness in their performances and I'm just not aware of them. But to my knowledge, Wanda Sykes and Margaret Cho are really the first two mainstream, nationally popular stand-up comics to own their queerness as part of their stand-up comedy. And Wanda Sykes is really exploring what it means to be gay and Black in the US and Margaret Cho exploring what it means to be a person of South Asian descent and queer in the US. And so really, they bust open that door from a national, mainstream perspective.
Michael: You identify a number of Black female American comics who have continued the work of comedians such as Goldberg, such as Sykes, but in doing so, they've also challenged some of the preconceptions of what's known as fourth-wave feminism. Could you explain what that term means? And also, what specifically some of these women are doing in their performances?
Rachel: So scholars are beginning to say that we're now in the fourth wave of feminism and third wave, being roughly... well, okay. First wave being pretty much any time, but a lot of people pinpoint the suffragists of the 1920s as first-wave feminism. Like, “Hey, we should be able to vote, right?” And then second wave is considered to pick up in the 1950s. And of course, that's the era of housewives who are essentially doing domestic labor and that's the only role for which they're considered. Now, I should comment, that's actually specifically a kind of white woman feminism. Black women, of course, were expected to do lots of different kinds of labor as maids and other things, so there's that. And then the third wave is picking up in the seventies and eighties and then perhaps early nineties.
So fourth wave—here's what everyone is saying defines the fourth wave. It's defined by the internet taking a hold of our lives in a significant way, which is why I actually would date fourth wave a little bit later than the mid-nineties. The mid-nineties, the internet exists but it hasn't become a daily part of our routine yet. And social media hasn't been invented yet. So a lot of people date fourth-wave feminism as starting in the early aughts and partly as defined by this integration of internet and social media into our use as a socially progressive movement that's activist. So that's part of it. Actually, one scholar dates fourth wave as beginning with Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama debating in the primaries in 2008. And the reason for that is because when that was happening, and it was looking like it was coming down to either Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama for the Democratic nominee, a lot of women of color and Black women specifically, were being asked: Are you going to vote with your race or are you going to vote with your gender? As if they had to choose one to side with.
And in response to this, a lot of things happened. There's an organization in Brooklyn, New York called the Black Women's Blueprint. And they really started responding to this and coming together as an intersectional body of women and saying: “Listen. Yes, we live at intersections of marginalized race and marginalized gender. And that does mean that we face specific problems that don't happen for other groups of people.” But what's interesting about fourth-wave feminism is that it's defined by the internet and social media. Also though, a lot of people are talking about how it's defined by humor, and this is where I've jumped in and said, “Okay, well, what does that mean? Let's look at this, let's unpack this.” And the humor part is really playing into street protests. Of course, it's part of the stand-up comedy world. And it's really infiltrating what have previously been considered serious mainstream news organizations, such as CNN.
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