Shambhala Sun Home Free Gift with Order Current Issue Subscribe & Save Half Give a Gift Renew Current Text
spacer spacer spacer


spacer spacer

Shambhala Sun | September 2013

The Funniest Thing Is a Deep Truth

Q&A with comedian Margaret Cho.

Margaret Cho is Teri in Lifetimeís hit show Drop Dead Diva; sheís a vaudevillian

burlesque dancer who sambaed and waltzed for Dancing with the Stars; sheís a longtime anti-racist, anti-bullying, and gay rights activist. And then thereís her main gig: side-splitting and boundary-pushing stand-up comedy. Her latest show, Mother, takes an untraditional look at motherhood and explores Choís sexuality. She says being bisexual is an odd experience: thereís really no representation of it in the media, so she has to make it up as she goes along. ďNothing is sacred,Ē Cho has quipped about her show, ďleast of all this Mother.Ē


Despite the raunchy streak, Choís comedy is at heart about compassion. I became interested in interviewing her when I came across her blog post on tonglen, a Buddhist meditation practice that involves breathing in the suffering of others and breathing out compassion and peace. As she describes it, ďYouíre like an air conditioning filter for the pain and suffering on Earth.Ē


What was it like growing up as a first-generation Korean American? Whatís really beautiful, whatís really funny, and what does it take to be a good actor? These are some of the questions Cho tackled in our interview.

óAndrea Miller


Like most womenómaybe most peopleóyouíve struggled with your body image. Have you reached some peace with that?


I have not reached any peace with that, although now Iím beyond caring, which is maybe peace. I am so sick of thinking about it. There are so many other things that I would rather do than worry about my size. You get bored after forty-whatever years of fretting. You get, like, Iíve got to stop worrying about this because thereís no solution.


How would you define true beauty?


I think itís peace or tranquility, and also compassion and kindness. Itís being real or authentic. Laughing is an expression of beauty because it canít be faked. Something is funny when itís deeply truthful. The funniest thing is a deep truth that is undeniable.


Have you always been funny?


I donít know, but when I saw that people did comedy and that it was a job, I realized that it would be my job. I just knew that that was what I was supposed to do.


How did you get into it?


I started doing comedy when I was about fourteen. I had a teacher who encouraged me, who saw something in me, and she signed me up for sets at comedy clubs. And then I just kept going. I was in a rush to be an adult. I did not enjoy that period of being an awkward teenager. I did not enjoy school. I did not enjoy my peers. I wanted to be around people who I felt were creative. I kind of escaped my childhood by becoming a comedian.


You seem to be really fearless in your comedy, not afraid of crossing a line or upsetting someone. Where does that bravery come from?


Well, I donít think privacy is that important. As human beings, weíre capable of experiencing all kinds of suffering. Itís more valuable to share that than maintain this guise of privacy where we have to keep secrets from each other. It really doesnít matter anyway. Everybody has a body. Everybody has emotions. That experience is more helpful to share than it is to hide. Privacy is something that people want to use to protect themselves, when itís not an actual protective mechanism. Weíve all felt the same, so weíre never really revealing anything.


You have channeled a lot of very painful experiences into your art. Do you think that thereís truth in the idea of the tortured artist? Does someone have to suffer to be able to create something great?


Everybody suffers, regardless of who we are. If you can utilize your suffering in your art, thatís a great way to express it, but I donít think anybody is exempt from suffering. Itís the human experience. There is always suffering, but thereís always joy too. So I donít think that thereís any need for an artist to be tortured because thatís just an identity that you adopt. There really isnít anything that anyone can do to avoid suffering. It is part of being alive. Itís a value judgment even to call something suffering.


A lot of people who might not consider themselves traditional comedy fans attend your shows. Why do you think that is?


I think that people who come see me are generally people who feel unsafe in comedy clubs. Comedy can be very sexist. It can be very racist or rely on racial stereotypes. It can be very homophobic. It can be very hurtful, used to put people down or hurt peopleís feelings, and Iíve never really bought into that. I think thatís what people like about what I do. Itís not about resorting to things like racism, sexism, or homophobia, or hurting people in order to get some kind of idea across.


Your dad writes joke books in Korean, but you donít find his jokes funny. Why not?


I think heís a bit wordy. His jokes are in story form and theyíre

just long.


And why doesnít he think yours are funny?


He thinks theyíre too dirty and that I shouldnít be talking about sex like that. My parents never told me where babies come from, so theyíre under the impression that I donít know yet. They would rather that I donít talk so much about sex because they think that I donít know what Iím talking about.


Can you speak Korean?


No, I canít. My father was deported from the United States when I was four, and when he returned he was determined that my brother and I not have any kind of Korean accent whatsoever, so that we would not be perceived as foreigners. He would speak to us in Korean, but we would have to answer in English. It was so traumatizing that although I can understand the language very well, I cannot speak it at all. My father now has his citizenship and itís impossible for him to be deported, and I was born here, so Iím not going to get deported. But I feel like if I start speaking Korean someone is going to get deported.


You often mimic your parentsí accents in your stand-up. Do they mind that?


No, they like it. They think itís really funny.


How do you keep your routine fresh when youíre doing a lot of shows?


Shows are really a dialogue between you and the audience. In live performance, thereís such a level of unpredictability that you have to be so on top of it and really engaged. My shows tend to change a lot every day.


That means the shows are fresh because they really are fresh?


Yes, I think so.


You act as well now. What do you think is the key to being a good actor?


I think itís really about being able to be compassionate and slip into somebody elseís skin. To be able to understand what it is to look at their life from the inside.

Excerpted from the September 2013 Shambhala Sun magazine. To see what else is in this issue, click here.

Subscribe | Current Issue | Search Archives | Contact Us | Spotlight | Privacy Policy | Site Map | Employment
© 2008 Shambhala Sun | Email: | Tel: 902.422.8404 | Published by Shambhala Sun Foundation