Know Your Audience

Hecklers, Hatred & Paranoia

So, there’s this Queer Comedy night I do sometimes, and I really like it. The people who run it are absolutely lovely, and put in a lot of effort to make it inclusive. The lineups they book are diverse on many levels, and they treat acts fairly. I’ve headlined the gig a fair few times, and I got no beef with the gig itself. 

The first time I headlined it, it was about a year ago - and most of the crowd were on board. I’m a cheeky sorta gal, and I can get up to some mischief on stage. God knows I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, and before I go into anything too deep - I want to just state that I absolutely am used to some people not enjoying what I do. I couldn’t help but notice though, during this particular set, that at least 5 or 6 people (all seemingly sitting near one another) had their arms crossed, weren’t laughing and looked very much “not into it”. Again, this comes with comedy - not everyone is going to like what you have to offer - but what I would say that stands out to me about this experience, is that this being a “queer” night - usually crowds are a little more so up for a cheeky gal, doing cheeky bits about how she’s a cheeky little trans nightmare. It’s my MO. I get it when some gammon-pink clean-shirt and his Missus aren’t vibing with me. Usually the queers are better at cutting loose, is what I’m saying. 

Ok, so a few weeks after that gig - and I’m at the LGB Alliance conference in London. I won’t go on about it here, as it’s been covered extensively by myself and many others - but for the uninitiated, I crashed their conference and got shouted at by a man who isn’t very well. A lot of weird things happened at that conference, but one of the more unexpected for me, was I bumped into two of the young women who were at that very gig, with their arms crossed - not enjoying my cheeky, cheeky jokes. They appeared to be there, not in the capacity that I was attending - ironically - but instead as card carrying members of the fold. It was an uncomfortable moment for them - seemingly. I was on a bit of an adrenaline kick that day from being a sneaky little mouse journalist, so I made the effort to engage with them. They acknowledged that they recognised me from the gig in a way that was friendly, but matter of fact enough to not have to express an opinion on my performance. I asked them if they were enjoying the conference, and they said that they were (I could tell they were anyway, because they didn’t have their arms crossed). It wasn’t a huge drama, and we went our separate ways. But it was something that stuck with me mentally for months and months after the conference.

The thing I couldn’t quite wrap my head around was - why would two women, who are clearly gender-critical LGB Alliance fans attend a comedy night that was billed as “Queer and Inclusive”. One of the main sticking points with people involved in this hate group is the rejection of “Queer Ideology”. Their focus is “Same Sex Attraction” and anything that expresses the complexity of a spectrum is kryptonite to them (like rainbows, anyone?). If I were “Gender Critical” I’d probably avoid a queer comedy night, headlined by the UK’s most irritating trans comedian. 

That experience, and the entire LGB Alliance conference, had a slightly damaging lasting effect on me, I think - which is it made me realise that you never really know who somebody really is. Even in places where you’ve attempted to cultivate an “inclusive” atmosphere, you can’t course correct for people’s secret beliefs. I mean, how many horrible racists are reading this right now? None, I hope. But I’m sure a few of you are, you horrible bastards. 

It sort of contributed to this ever-present, and growing complex I’ve been developing - where I wonder how many people I encounter in my day to day life are anti-trans. Does this guy at reception in Foyles think I’m an autogynephillic pervert? Is my therapist Susan secretly calling me a man in her head? (Just kidding, I don’t have a therapist). It’s not a healthy way to live your life, constantly worrying if people resent or hate you - but it’s unfortunately the climate trans people live in in the United Kingdom. The media, and the government, and many health institutions are currently rabidly against us, and it has residual effects like that. And to be honest, there are even worse mental residuals that many of us don’t like to mention, but I will. I think about killing myself a lot. I don’t bring it up because I’m looking for outreach or sympathy or anything like that. This really, honestly isn’t a cry for help. This is a thing that I have been dealing with, and trying to manage for years and years now. I bring it up, in this context, because I want you to know that this is the reality of life as a trans person right now. I’m tired of being coy or sensitive with people when talking about these issues. I don’t think it’s helpful to not highlight the domino effect this transphobic climate creates. 

A few nights ago, I headlined the gig again. Again, as before, the night was incredibly well run, billed as inclusive, had a diverse lineup and I was treated brilliantly by the organisers. I love the gig, and I love them. Again though, I noticed a certain portion of the audience with their arms folded, looking unimpressed - but after doing comedy for as long as I have been now, I am more than willing to accept how annoying I am. I do not know if the two girls from the LGB Alliance were in again, but I’m sort of past the point of caring. But one woman in the audience kept heckling me. She was a bit older than most of the crowd (early 50’s) and was visibly very drunk. She had an answer for almost all of my set-ups, but wasn’t very interesting when you actually engaged with her. Most comedians will know the type. She announced several times that she was a lesbian, and seemed to really want to let me know that she “was behind me 100%”. Now, I know that last bit is going to sound jarring to you. You might be thinking “wow, she’s behind you. That’s lovely - she’s an ally” but, as anyone who was bullied growing up will know - tone and execution are everything. The way it was said, didn’t chime as sincere. It reminded me of when I was at school, and bullies (for lack of a stronger word) would tell me they liked my long hair, before trying to set it ablaze with a lighter. 

I thanked her for her ally-ship, and tried to move on with my set. But, she wasn’t yet done being the centre of attention. She continued to shout out and make what I can only describe as backhanded compliments. On several occasions during my set, she referred to me by “man” and “bruv”. A more naive person would give her the benefit of the doubt - maybe she just speaks like that? As someone from South London, let me tell you - she wasn’t pulling it off. The audience were audibly uncomfortable when she said it, with one member ever going “…wow”. Look, I don’t like to think the worst of anybody, but I went to an all boys state school in Kent. I know when people are fucking with me. 

The encounter ended with me one upping her, and I don’t mention that out of pride - as I said, she was very, very drunk. She left shortly after.

The organisers of the gig were brilliant, and checked in with me afterwards to see if there was any way they could have handled it better. That isn’t something most gigs would do. In fact, this story isn’t really about them at all - it’s about all audiences. 

I absolutely adore doing stand up - it’s been one of the defining things that’s kept me going for the past 6 or so years. But every day I can feel my mental health declining slightly, as I get more and more paranoid. If you feel as if a good proportion of the United Kingdom hates you - as demonstrated in the media, government and institutions - that’s only going to have a spill over effect in your day to day life. 

I once heard a story about a trans theatre performer who had a brigade of TERFs turn up to their show. They stood up at the back of the room, interrupting with chants and signs. I’ve often wondered what my reaction would be, if something like this happened at my show. 

I’ve come to the conclusion, that a ticket sale is a ticket sale. And it’s no refunds, I’m afraid.