Gender construction has had as big of an impact on our society as the idea and construction of time. Just as we’re all bound to be at work tomorrow at a time which we most certainly made up, we’re all bound for the most part to fit into the idea and construction of gender, because this is a game, and if you don’t play it, you can’t even put yourself into a position where you have a chance to do well. For instance, if I go into a job interview tomorrow and they tell me I’m hired, so long as I cut my hair short to look like a professional, respectable man; I best be cutting my hair so I can make rent and pay off these student loans *1. But I don’t wanna write about how its tough being a man with long hair, I’m interested in women in Stand-Up Comedy as an aspect of gender construction. Mostly because, I don’t sell watches and I’m a comedian. “Gender is a concept that describes how societies determine and manage sex categories; the cultural meanings attached to men and women’s roles; and how individuals understand their identities including, but not limited to, being a man, woman, transgender, intersex, gender queer and other gender positions (Dr Zuleyka Zevallos, othersociologist.com.)” The image our culture has of what is acceptable for men and women has a huge aspect on comedians because more than any other performers/artists, comedians traffic in the world of instant feedback from all kinds of people. That has a psychological impact on individuals in both an interpersonal and systemic way.

*1 That actually did happen and I turned the job down, and now I’m broke. So give into the man, kids.

Stand-Up is an interesting window into gender construction on how it effects everyone in different ways because the iconography of what Stand-Up is, or is at least supposed to be in our culture. There is a perceived realness and cynicism that is glued to the larger idea of what Stand-Up is supposed to be. Stand-Up comedy is not an art form that spawned out of things going well. It’s not about how we want things to be, it’s about how they are *2. John Lennon could make a great song imagining a better world, but that would never work in Stand-Up, Stand-Up is a much less idealistic and much more realistic art form that only works if one is tapped into the present minds of its audience. What works in Stand-Up isn’t somebody saying, “This is the age of enlightenment.” That’s optimistic and not funny. People don’t go to a comedy show and expect to hear a positive spin about how things are going well. “This is the age of enlightenment” translated into comedic speak would be how Dave Chapelle recently described the time we’re living in, in his new Netflix Special, The Age Of Spin, “this is the age where nobody knows what the f*** they’re looking at, Chapelle said.” Stand-Upis one of the last places left in society where you still sometimes get peoples unhinged stories, opinions, and philosophies in a way that’s not accepted anywhere else. That’s actually why I got into Stand-Up; it seemed to be this place where you were free to be who you wanna be and think what you wanna think. I love the idea of realness because so much in culture isn’t about what’s real, we’re all living the lie, so realness is in a way its own currency. However, one of the drawbacks to the perceived realness that audiences look for in Stand-Up is sometimes realness isn’t pretty for all parties involved. Particularly, when a large majority of the comedians are male. As long as it’s existed, Stand-Up Comedy has been a boys club. Not even the classic, “Good ole Boys club,” the distinction we usually make to describe an enclosed faction of some sort, just a boys, a boys club. Rolling Stone recently came out with a list ranking the 50 greatest Stand-Up comedians of all time and only ten of them were female (only Joan Rivers was in the top thirty). Most Stand-Up shows are filled with a male dominated lineup, and if you drift into any random Chicago Comedy open mic, for every ten people, at least eight or nine will be men. The game is changing though, there’s more women doing Stand-Up than there’s ever been, so I think that it’s important that we get that perspective. And although most of the shit I write is from the perspective of a rambling know nothin’ with too much time on his hands, that will do you reading this no justice. So I decided to interview some different Stand-Up Comedians who are women to see their experiences and how they feel about gender construction and how image has shaped our culture’s definition of acceptable and unacceptable (You can learn more about them at the bottom of the page), as well as the psychological impact that had had on them on an individual, interpersonal, and systemic level.

*2 Actually, it’s about how we perceive things to be, reality isn’t important in culture in the grand scheme of things (for better or for worse).

Q: How do you feel your gender has effected how you're perceived on stage? How does our cultures definition of what is and is not acceptable gender expression effect you as a comedian?

Emily Galati

I guess the biggest effect being a woman comes before I even get onstage. “Female comedian” conjures up a very specific image for a number of audience members and unfortunately its a negative image. I did a show once and after the host said, “your next comic is a woman,” a guy in the crowd shouted, “Awwwww fuck!” He just assumed I was going to be terrible and wasn’t even willing to give me a chance. I guess that’s the biggest effect being a woman has, I’m not even seen as competent by some members of the audience before they even see my act.

Carly Kane

I think that it has effected audience perception although I do not know for sure. I think culturally comedy has been a “mans game.” There is a certain dominance and power that comes with holding a microphone on stage. I do think that people sometimes have a “shock reaction” to things I say because they aren’t used to hearing a woman say it, especially on a stage. I think this is an important time for women in comedy and people are excited to see and hear a woman’s perspective now more than ever. Although, I once had a woman come up to me after a show and say “I normally don’t find girls funny, but you were great.” So, we do have work to do.

Rebecca O’Neal

Society seems to have different expectations for men and women overall - and that extends to comedy. Some examples are that I dress up for club shows now to be taken more seriously - I'll show up in heels, a dress, makeup, hair done, and the men on the show will be wearing dirty tees and sweatpants, but they're perceived as equally competent. I definitely wasn't finding as much success when I wasn't paying as much attention to my appearance. There's also the expectation of relatively cleanliness from female comedians that I don't really pay much attention to. I have found though - that even though I'm nowhere near a clean comedian - I'm often perceived that way for whatever reason, and I think it's because of the way women are perceived in general.

Q: How do you feel that gender and the images and ideas we've constructed around it have effected how you're perceived by people in the comedy community such as other comedians, agents, club managers etc... What experiences have you had that you feel happened because of the construction of gender in you being a women?

Emily Galati

I had a manger tell me that comedy made me sound "desperate for a boyfriend.” The last chunk of my set was on feminism, abortion, and politics, but he said that one joke about dating made my whole set seem “desperate.” That’s not a note you’d ever give to a man, that’s not anything you’d ever say to a man, and one joke about dating would never paint a man’s whole set as “desperate.” Needless to say we don’t work together anymore. I have about 2000 other stories.

Carly Kane

I don’t know for sure. I’m sure people have perceived me in many different ways, depending on if its because of my comedy or the fact that I’m a woman, or both. I think bookers are actively looking to diversify lineups, there have been times where I can tell I’ve been last minute added because they “needed a girl” which is not ideal but stage time is stage time.

Rebecca O’Neal

As far as perceptions from other comics or agents and club managers - merit seems to be the ruling factor. If you're funny and you're working hard, there's always room for you. But I have noticed that there is no upper limit for the number of straight white guys - who are perceived as the default type of person you can be in American society - you can have on a show generally, but as a Black Woman - it's rare that there's more than one of me around. It's a product of what groups are represented in comedy as a whole but the numbers represented on shows still aren't proportional. My best friend - Sonia Denis - did maybe 5 shows we didn't produce together in 5 years of doing stand up in Chicago bc people never ever ever booked us together. And I think that makes the experience different for us than it is for male comics who are booked with their friends literally all the time.

Q: What experiences have you had that you feel happened because of the construction of gender in you being a women?

Carly Kane

I had one negative experience where I wasn’t getting paid the same as the other men, and there was no other explanation besides the fact that I was a girl. I had to ask to get paid and received only half as the other hosts which was concerning and problematic.

Q: What experiences have you had that you feel happened because of the construction of gender in you being a women? What experiences have had that you feel happened because you're a black women?

Rebecca O’Neal

I've had hecklers zero in on my gender and race before - but I sort of revel in shutting people down so it just comes with the territory. Within comedy itself, the limitations placed on women and people of color are just as evident as they are in wider society. People at venues constantly try to ask me to leave greenrooms because they assume I'm not supposed to be there (but what kind of psycho is just chilling in greenrooms where they don't belong), male fans and audience members at shows get beyond creepy sometimes - and I've had to remove people from my mailing list because I didn't feel comfortable with them knowing my schedule, I've had to take white male friends with me when scouting venues for shows because I wasn't taken seriously as a Black woman. And when I bring those friends for show - even if they're not involved w the event I want to produce - questions and answers are usually addressed to the man when I'm the one doing all the talking who has all of the information. That's just a few examples but I could go on and on lol.

Q: Have these experiences had a psychological impact on you as a person and as a comedian?

Emily Galati

The worst part of it all is sitting in the back of a club and listening to male comic, after male comic, after male comic, after male comic, talk so terribly about their wives, girlfriends, or women in general. There’s just so much comedy about how terrible we are, its sometimes hard to believe men ever have anything nice to say about us. I’ve actually gone up and thanked comics when I see them talk positively about a woman which is a very weird thing to have to do.

Carly Kane

I think stand up in general comes with a lot of anxiety, especially for me since I am already highly anxious. That particular experience with payment just made me realize that I need to stick up for myself and not be afraid of authority when I am being wronged.

Rebecca O’Neal

Well, I was born a Black woman who's not exactly straight so I've dealt with this my entire life and remained an ambitious person throughout. There's a phrase among people of color that goes - you have to work twice as hard to get half as far. Add being a woman. Add openly identifying as queer. It's distinguishing in some ways and damning in others. But I continue telling jokes every night despite those things.

Earlier I referred to how I got into Stand-Up, because of the realness I perceived it to have. If you look around enough and pay enough attention, people everywhere seem kind of full of shit. So although I acknowledge that Stand-Up is appealing to me because it’s not fake, it’s important that I acknowledge that that realness has it’s drawbacks. Yeah, its cool that you’re getting a bunch of people who are drunk to laugh at stuff they never would’ve imagined they would laugh at in a million years, but when they’re laughing at a group of people who have been greatly marginalized in this society (As Emily astutely pointed out, a lot of Stand-Up is men bitching about women) that punch may leave a wound that sticks to both the people in the audience, as well as the other comedians in the show. It’s easy for me to argue for artistic freedom and realness because nobody is questioning my humanity. I’m a guy who’s also one of the whites (there’s a lot of comedians who share this broad description) *3, so the idea that people are performing painfully honest art has never been something I’ve thought about in a way that isn’t 100% positive. I realize though, not everybody shares that same perspective because not everybody has the same privilege/formative experience that I’ve had; since I started comedy I’ve been able to be judged for who I am, I haven’t had to be the representative of a group, like many other comedians may have to be on a certain show (a lot of shows). If you’re the only female comedian in the lineup, whether you like it or not you’re in a strange way the representative for your gender. One could see how this could be detrimental to the voice of a comedian that’s a women because now maybe instead of just speaking your piece, you have to address being a women as you’re often times the only women anyone is going to hear that night.

What’s interesting about the answers Emily, Carly and Rebecca gave, is that it’s very clear that female Stand-Up’s are very much effected by the image of what women are supposed to be and what’s acceptable for women to do and not do based on gender construction in culture. They all had experiences with other comedians, managers, and crowd members where things were either said to them or at them specifically because they’re women. Or they had to look nicer than their male contemporaries; specifically because they’re women. It’s very clear that this has had a psychological impact on them as individuals in an interpersonal level as well as on a systemic level because they’re in an industry where there’s such a heavy male influence and where most aspects of it are male dominated, that it effects not just them but all female comedians in a systemic way because this specific system is a part of the patriarchy. So the negative aspects that exist in gender construction in our culture are magnified for women in Stand-Up Comedy. As to whether or not Stand-Up comedy as an art form will pave the way in moving past gender construction, I’m not sure if it’s the chicken or the egg. In some sense, art is simply a reflection of society. If it’s not palpable and relatable for people, they won’t care about it. There’d be no jokes about people getting killed by drones if people weren’t actually getting killed by drones. So for Stand-Up to continue to thrive as an art form it does need to be attached to a perceived realness that people long for and can relate too, but that also doesn’t mean the experience has to be so shitty for so many female comedians simply because of the construction of gender and its impact on people in the culture as individuals, as well as in an interpersonal, and systemic way. Art is just a reflection of society, maybe that's the problem.

Emily Galati:

See Emily on Conan, here

Carly Kane:

Get tickets to Carly’s show here

Rebecca O’Neal:

See Rebecca headline The Laugh Factory here