I’m A Depressed Muslim-American First, Comedy Club Owner Second
Plans to avoid my personal social media for the rest of the summer have been somewhat thwarted. One of my good friends in comedy, as well as outside of it, Sam Grittner, had made similar overtures about stepping away from Facebook and Twitter over the past week but he instead decided to bravely and eloquently write about his latest battle with depression and his suicide attempt. Other depression sufferers have reached out to me over the last few weeks to not only candidly share their own struggles with a sibling-in-arms, but to also point out that they had recognized the signs of a not-so-great period that’s come upon me. I only hope I’m half as articulate and as considered as Sam and everyone else has been.
The Unfairness of “The Privileged Class”
Yes, I’m currently going through a major bout with depression, which is a thing that happens from time-to-time. It can be as mild as sulking over a stinging rejection of love to something worse, like wanting to kill myself like I did in 2013. At this point in time, I’m just trying to retreat to a place where I don’t have to talk to a lot of people and to not surround myself with the negativity that I tend to expose myself to, hence why the social media break and why I don’t respond to texts. But one of the upsides to being self-aware about depression — and spending countless hours in therapy — is being able to pinpoint the triggers. For me, one of the triggers can be easily summed up in this statement:
“Mo, the Muslim-American vs. ‘The Privileged Class.’”
“The Privileged Class” is a loaded term but it’s one that’s meant to illuminate the fact that some people will never or barely be touched by actual discrimination. As a straight cis man, I have A LOT of privileges that I have to keep in check. For example, I can go into the men’s room without being hassled by a Conservative governor and/or state legislature. (With that, I have to not be a dick when a Trans person is complaining about their basic civil rights are being infringed upon. That’s literally the least I can do.) But, there are two factors that will always keep me out of the metaphorical country club:
- Brown-skin
- Muslim background
Now, these are not the cries of victimhood. I’m pointing out a reality that American society, as well as the ones in Europe, have been built on the notion that some shades of the United Colors of Benetton and religions are superior to others. Not “All Lives Matter,” if The Powers-That-Be are ever truly honest. What I do strive for, and what I hope that all political and social minorities strive for, is to be treated exactly like Straight Cis Christian White Men — the apex of humanity, according to our political overlords — are treated.
For example, if I and a SCCWM were to both score 100% on a test, then he and I should be rewarded in the same manner. If a SCCWM scores 80% but I score a 100%, then only I have earned the reward. But that’s not how “The System” works. We don’t live in a Liberal/Libertarian-led society where hard work leads to the fulfillment of The American Dream. SCCWM who score less than us will always be rewarded while the rest of us get shafted or even punished. That old saying that some folks have to work twice as hard in order to get half as much is true.
(And I’m not even factoring in economic struggle at this juncture, though that’s a conversation we all need to also have.)
The anger and disappointment I feel with regards to the purposeful unevenness is a major factor in my lifelong battle with depression. In fact, if you ask any Person of Color, Trans person, or anyone else from a political minority group who suffers from depression, you’ll most likely get the same answer. The most famous, unfortunately, is the late Sandra Bland, who talked about how systemic anti-Black racism triggered her own bouts on social media before she mysteriously died in a Texas jail cell after a racially profiled traffic stop turned into a shitstorm in 2015.
Tough Shit, Muslim-Americans!
This particular bout of depression is fueled, in part, by Donald Trump’s candidacy for President of the United States, and the massive support he has from folks who want to make America “great” again.
Muslim-Americans are victims of hate crimes every single day and those have risen up dramatically thanks to Trump’s bigoted rhetoric and his supporters’ willingness to destroy “The Other.” From attacking a deli owner in New York to laying siege to mosques in Arizona (circling a mosque with guns is a siege not a protest) to hog-tying and murdering three college-aged people in North Carolina, their version of America includes the mass cleansing of Muslims. And that’s not an exaggeration. The Republican candidate’s policy on Muslims has been one of just TWO constants on his campaign trail (the other being the border wall between the U.S. and Mexico), and that actually consists of:
- Banning non-US Muslims
- Creating a database of and then marking US Muslims
- Interning US Muslims, if he deems it necessary
- And flirting with the idea of repealing the 14th Amendment to strip Muslims (and others) born here to immigrant parents of their U.S. citizenship, which then brings us back to Number 1
My Muslim family and friends do not feel safe. My 68-year-old mother who came here from Egypt with her husband for a better life almost 40 years ago can’t sleep well at night. I, who was born here, don’t sleep well either. It’s the early 1930’s Germany for us here in America. We’re uncertain of the future, which looks darker by the minute. And yet, there’s a feeling that no one else seems to care. When you see so-called Liberals still clinging to idea of voting for Bernie Sanders or jumping ship to Jill Stein, who, by the way, is an anti-vaxxer who believes that the election of Donald Trump would bring us closer to “socialist revolution” that she’s been dreaming of, you’ll hear the words “collateral damage” being thrown around. By that, they mean us. We’re the canon fodder of their agenda.
When you see Conservatives go “but we’ll lose the Supreme Court!,” what they’re really saying is that their ideology is more important than lives of average American Muslims. They get what they want from a Trump presidency but for Muslims: tough shit.
That goes back to the purposeful unevenness of “The Privileged Class.” While you might have the luxury of “voting your conscience” this election year, Muslim-Americans — including myself — are voting for our very lives. Muslim Democrats are voting for Hillary Clinton while Muslim Republicans are splitting their votes, with most going to Clinton and a decent few going to Libertarian candidate Gary Johnson to protest Donald Trump.
(By the way, I’m voting for Clinton but this is not a glowing endorsement. I want a third Obama term but that’s not going to happen. But hey, she’s not promising to destroy me and my family. That makes her more than qualified for The Oval Office in my book.)
Mo, the Comedy Club Owner
Now, I see my role as comedy club owner through the prism of that unevenness and I try to counteract that. The fact that I am a Brown Muslim-American informs who I should be as a business owner. As much as that may bother some folks, and as much as I’m far from a perfect ally for minority rights (I have a lot to learn about the everyday plight of Women, for example), separating any part of myself from the whole would be untruthful, and a disservice to me and to many others.
The purpose of The Experiment Comedy Gallery is to create a niche for comics from underrepresented groups who are now free to express themselves without being hassled by those who try to stifle Women, People of Color, Liberals, members of the LGBTQI communities, other White men, etc. by claiming that they’re some “Politically Correct” Corp out to police comedy. I’m proud that the venue is considered a safe space by many who weren’t allowed to find their voices in other, more mainstream clubs and not only am I grateful for those who call it home, I have an obligation to protect them.
(The members of “The Privileged Class” are also welcome at our club. There’s no exclusivity. Just keep in mind that we’re all in the same boat and that, for example, the “T-word” is a thing that Trans-bashers yell out in fits of evil rage at women who were listed as “men” on their first birth certificates just because they were born with male parts. It’s not censorship to point stuff like this out.)
In order for our venue to function under that umbrella of being a safe space, I’ve had to take the extraordinary measures of banning an improv group whose members went on an anti-Brown tirade on social media (I saw the lame derogatory term “cheese beard” on my Facebook page for the first time a few months ago) and three male solo comics for the following:
- Harassing and threatening women
- Harassing and groping women
- Punching his ex-girlfriend in the face, who he was then harassing
The latter instance was a no-brainer, or at least I thought it was. After the ex-girlfriend (who is a comic herself) posted a photo of her bruised face up on Facebook, I asked the producers at the venue to not book that male comic on any of their shows. No abuser of women is going to performing on our stage. I thought I was doing the right thing both morally and business-wise. Who wants to run a venue that’s known to embrace guys who punch women?
Many producers and comics shared my sentiments, thank goodness. Sadly, a few didn’t. They voiced their displeasure about the ban in public and to me in private. Some thought, horribly, that the woman may have brought the abuse upon herself. The one question that I kept getting was, “Why would I want to ruin this man’s career?”
The other one was, “Would you ban me too?”
The gap between what I saw and what these people saw was wide. My feeling was that they should’ve taken into consideration this woman’s career, which would be harmed since she wouldn’t be able to enter certain venues without the fear of seeing her attacker. Or they should’ve taken into consideration my own want of not having my venue associated with a known abuser. Instead of going, “he fucked himself over with his own violent actions, I hope he finds the peace of mind to better himself,” they instead were more empathetic for his “plight” than that of his victim’s because he had TV credits. That made him “untouchable” for some reason. So, for those on his side, it turned into:
“Mo, the Comedy Club Owner vs. all of comedy.”
My disillusionment over people (including someone I had come to see as a friend) defending a man who hit a woman with his fists was then filtered into my depression.
(And that depression intensified with the firing/banning of one of the three male comics who turned out to be physically inappropriate with women. The aftermath of that, which involved him harassing me, was the opposite of fun.)
“The Fathel-ban”
“The Fathel-ban” is both a so-called badge of honor bestowed upon me in a teasing but friendly manner by people who agree with the four bans and a derogatory term used to deem me as “unreasonable” by those who don’t care for my attitude when it comes to comedy. And I get it. I’m a Brown-skinned Muslim-American, who to them, is encroaching on a space that’s been protective of members of “The Privileged Class” since the mid-1970’s; back when people figured out how to make money off of comics post-Lenny Bruce. The image some of these folks have of the so-called “Social Justice Warrior P.C. Police” is either of me or some of our venues’ performers. We “rock the boat,” “don’t know our place,” etc. And while I haven’t banned anyone else, that hasn’t stopped those who aren’t fans of mine or of the venue to be more combative and to be more dismissive of legitimate concerns we as People of Color may have. And that’s fine. Life isn’t perfect. It’s filled with critics and lovers and those who are in between. Otherwise, we don’t get to see each other in the way we’re supposed to, in three whole dimensions.
(By the way, I don’t believe that there’s such thing as a P.C. Police in comedy. That’s just a claim bigots makes when decent folks don’t want to hear their lazy anti-Black/anti-Women/etc. jokes.)
But things did come to a head last weekend, during the weekly standup show I co-produce.
All Muslim-Americans vs. Bigotry
On Saturday, another comic with TV credits dropped-in on my show. I didn’t know him nor did I book him. For most of his short set, he ranted against Muslim-Americans. It started out about his beef with a Muslim that then led to a fantasy that had many more Muslims (not specifically terrorists, mind you) being interned at Gitmo Bay and then having the sounds of their screams — DUE TO BEING TORTURED — recorded for an album. That’s it. That was the punchline.
In the mist of all of the shit being spewed by Trump, his supporters, and the Republican Party over the last two years, this comic thought that the torture of Muslim-Americans was funny. And other people in the audience, including two of my co-producers, thought so as well. (None of them were Muslim-Americans.) It was that sound of the laughter that got to me. That actualization of our lives being fucking cheap. We meant nothing to them. We’re disposal. And what’s worse: they all did it inside of my venue. My life, and the lives of my mother, my sister, and my brother were canon fodder inside of my own space. I had to call it out.
That comic ran out of the club as soon as he figured out that I was angry. I vented to my co-producers, who I also saw as friends. It seemed as though I wasn’t getting my point across or that I wasn’t being taken seriously, so like any good American, I vented on Facebook. That night, I was a depressed Muslim-American first, comedy club owner second.
And that’s how it should be. It was the right way for me, as a member of a group that’s being targeted by politicians and citizens alike, to see this matter in such a way.
Opening up in that manner led to some support and to a lot of criticism. Again, it became:
“Mo, the Comedy Club Owner vs. all of comedy.”
This time, what pissed some people off was my calling this comic’s bigotry out in public and not the bigotry itself. In their viewpoints, he had every right to say what he wanted to say on my stage. (Which he sort of did.) I, on the other hand, ironically had to “be careful” as to what I said and to inject any real world politics was me being “overdramatic.” (Even though I had the right to criticize this shitty bigoted comic.) The Muslim-American stepped out of line again and needed to be reprimanded. The way the critics saw it, I’m suppose to be a comedy club owner first, MA second. That meant, my loyalties were somehow divided.
Now, here’s my angry response to that: Comedy isn’t the NYPD, where so-called good cops try to cover up for the racist bad ones. We — club owners, comics, audience members — have to call out the shitheads who target the powerless in manners meant to provoke negativity and not to entertain, or otherwise all comics will lose the right to being considered society’s “truth-tellers.” And once that right is gone, comedy will no longer be an actual art form. It’ll just be episodes of “The Big Bang Theory.” (What a crappy, unfunny show.)
But this is not a call for a witch hunt. This is an acknowledging that freedom of speech isn’t freedom from criticism. And club owners criticize comics all of the time. Some places won’t give performers stage time if their material isn’t “TV friendly.” There’s a collective in NYC that bans comics from their open mics if they fail to purchase an expressive drink from the bar, and that’s in addition to paying them $5 for a chance at performing. I just don’t want to hear Trump’s anti-Muslim wet dream on the stage that I built — that’s all! — even if I didn’t officially ban this dude from the venue. That’s not unreasonable, which is more than you can say about preventing curse words from being said or forcing comics to fork over $15 to do a crappy open mic.
(Side note: NEVER. PAY. TO. PERFORM. AT. AN. OPEN. MIC.)
Now, here’s my depressed response: I’ve been emotional drained for months now. I’ve limited my social media exposure in order to better myself and to better my comedy club. I’m trying hard not to feel so alone in whatever lifelong fight I’m having, whether it’s with critics or with scummy dudes who have problems with women or with Trump and his racist supporters or with the entire system set up to benefit just those in “The Privileged Class.” I’m trying to not make this bout with depression worse than it already is.
(And thank you to those who do try to make me see that I’m not alone in this fight. Depression does stupidly get in the way of feeling your empathy. That’s all on me.)
But I love comedy. I love it more than anything else in this world. And I know that we can do better. I know that we can produce the next Lenny Bruce who’s out to destroy a rigged system but this time, it’ll be in the guise of a Trans Puerto Rican woman or a Brown-skinned Lesbian Muslim from Pakistan or a handicapped Asian-American man born in a Florida trailer park. Everyone that’s being shit on today will rise up tomorrow and become the truth-tellers that our world needs. My depressed, Muslim-American, and comedy club owner sides all believe that it’s our obligation to support them.
And if you disagree with my sentiments, that’s fine too. The freedom I have to my speech isn’t freedom from your criticism. Just keep in mind that I’m speaking as human being and not as a title.
