Stand(ing) Up
It's not often that you get to see discrimination balanced out right before your eyes; to see justice dished out and the tables turned by those who are being victimized, but I saw the definition of poetic justice tonight in Vancouver, BC at one of the best comedy open mics in recent memory.
It demonstrated one of the things I think is really great about performance art: it's a great equalizer for performers. You may be someone who is used to having your ego stroked by your friends, because you're rich, attractive, connected, etc, but when you're on a stage in front of a bunch of strangers who just shelled out hard earned dollars for a good time, they don't care about any of that. You're either entertaining or you're not.
Conversely, you may be someone who is shamefully underserved in society, but on stage, you can still be a juggernaut if you have the chops.
When the second comic of the evening was announced, there was a long wait while he made his way to the stage. I began to speculate that maybe he didn't show up, since it was an open mic: comics' plans change, people get cold feet, etc. The reason for the the delay turned out to be that he's a quadriplegic with cerebral palsy, and needed an extra minute to navigate the crowd in his chair, get a lift onto the stage, and to have his mic adjusted.
He was struggling speaking into the mic, and his speech was labored. I'm not proud to admit the first thing that popped into my mind was that I didn't think he'd be entertaining.
I was so wrong. He SLAYED that room. He used a lot of self deprecating humor (he had a hilarious bit about buying shoes that I can't get away with repeating) like I expected, but that wasn't his only material. He was clever, acerbic, and none of us were laughing because we felt sorry for the guy, which is more than I can say for at least one of the guys who would follow him.
Several more comics followed who were almost all very good until. . .
a guy came on and did about 5 min of really insensitive material poking fun at people with disabilities. It was clear that's what he came prepared with, and didn't anticipate he'd be following a man in a wheelchair who had already won over the crowd. It was awkward, cringe worthy, and I found myself conflicted, both wishing that he would vanish from the stage in a puff of smoke, but also that I could have the pleasure of seeing some sort of serious misfortune befall him. Yes, I am that petty. But, as luck would have it, that thirst would be quenched tonight.
A couple acts later, a dude comes up and says "Soooo, I have Cerebral Palsy too, like that comic in the chair. . . "
The applause from his introduction quickly died down, while we all wondered how he was going to respond to the previous comic's material. It was an uncomfortable pause to say the least.
"I bet that dude who had all the cripple jokes didn't expect to get outnumbered tonight!" was met with a thunderous applause.
Then, much to our delight, he spent most of his 5 min set responding to things the previous comic had set, and just let him have it. The crowd loved it.
I can't imagine what either of those comics felt like listening to the guy while he thoughtlessly mocked them, but rather than complaining, getting his mic cut, or having him kicked out, our protagonist patiently waited his turn, and then peeled the guy apart like a hunk of string cheese.
Of course not everyone is as equipped to do battle as these two guys were, so it's still important to stand up (hey, that's the title of the post!) for those who need it, but only when we're needed. There's a line between being a silent party to injustice, and being overeager to jump in and stick up for someone who doesn't need your help, making them look weak in the process. The reason that this event had so much of an impact on me, and I'd wager others in the crowd, was not because some able bodied person rushed the stage and gave an impassioned speech on their behalf, but because the victims were allowed to defend their own dignity in a way that no one else could have.