Jenan Younis has created a SWANA comedy festival "to tackle racism in the industry"
Words by Jenan Younis
When I first dabbled in stand-up I created a Facebook account with the pseudonym ‘Janine Young’ in a bid to protect my comedy double life from prying work colleagues. Early on, I messaged a promoter directly for a spot advertised; they instantly got back to me with a gig offer. Oddly, this was an individual who had never replied in the past when I had emailed them as ‘Jenan Younis’.
Did using a more anglicised name have anything to do with my success in securing this gig?
With my geek hat on, I ran an experiment. Over the following year I contacted promoters requesting gigs using my real name versus pseudonym. Importantly, the content of the emails which comprised my comedy CV and a clip performing which clearly cited my Middle Eastern heritage, were identical.
81% of the promoters I contacted offered me a spot when I was ‘Janine’, whilst just 12% replied to ‘Jenan’. This result was replicated even on entering an established national comedy competition. Only ‘Janine’s’ application made it through to the qualifying heats.
“Just stick with Janine as your stage name!” was the remark that was commonly echoed by industry when I discussed my experience. Alex Zane (born Faris Al-Bayaty), Shaparak Khorsandi (who up until relatively recently went by “Shappi”) and Russell Kane (born Russell Grineau) were the examples of why ‘Janine Young’ may serve me well.
I’ve always had issues with my name; my i-Phone autocorrects ‘Jenan’ to ‘kebab’, my surname means cricket fans of a certain generation assume I know and care about the sport, and working in the NHS I’d often find myself rostered for Christmas and Easter with passing comments from rota co-ordinators along the lines of ‘with a name like I wouldn’t have thought you didn’t celebrate either!’ #plottwist I do! Anyone want to fill Susan in on how Christianity is a Middle Eastern religion?
Having said this, whilst my name has been problematic, I wasn’t comfortable adopting an anglicised name solely for the purpose of progression in an industry that clearly had issues in being representative. Pick a random comedy night in the UK, and the chances are the line-up will be pale, male and stale. Whilst debates on how to actively change the landscape have been circulating, I am yet to see any tangible change.
On the occasions where I have been selected for opportunities based on my ethnic background, it’s often to fulfil a particular agenda producers have in mind who frequently fail to do their research and are inevitably met with disappointment when I rock up unable to tick whatever box they need. An example of this includes being a guest on a podcast hosted by an individual known for uplifting marginalised voices. Their first question asked me to comment on the Calais Jungle from the perspective of a Syrian refugee. Tricky given I’m not Syrian, nor a refugee.
These experiences have certainly made me reflect on the stand-up I watched growing up. For quite some time, Omid Djalili was the only Middle Eastern comedian in the UK, and hearing him share stories of racism he faced in the industry 20 odd years ago in his show “The Good Times” were disheartening and a stark reminder of the little progress we’ve made.
Rather than succumb to convention and transform permanently into ‘Janine Young’ I decided to create the ‘Weapons of Mass Hilarity Comedy Night’. It began as a collaboration with the LSE student union’s Middle East Society in 2018 as a charity fundraiser aiming to showcase comedians with Middle Eastern/North African heritage.
The response we had on the first night was overwhelming. We crammed just under 100 people in a small space above the Savoy Tap pub in Covent Garden breaching every health and safety rule of the venue and having to turn away countless others who had queued for hours.
It is fascinating to learn that every single act that has performed with us have their own version of tales from the stand-up world where they’ve been discouraged to disclose their ethnicity. I’ve observed an added freedom with the night; dismantling the need of performers to indulge the masses with safe stereotypes (something I have been guilty of myself) and talk about whatever we like; whether it’s identity driven or not, from the everyday generation-Z struggle, weaving Farsi into a set, or my laser therapist’s lips which look like she’s in anaphylactic shock.
WMH has also become a platform to seek out and present emerging talent in a supportive environment. I recall how challenging it was to shift from the open mic circuit to professional gigs and I ensure that at least one new act is programmed onto each night.
Whilst initial shows were predominantly audiences with Middle Eastern backgrounds, our crowds of late have become more varied. I’m always touched receiving messages from audience members thanking us for developing an inclusive space, many of whom are attending live stand-up for the first time.
As I’ve seen so far with narratives not just within creative industries, the dominant narrative of the Middle East is Arab/Muslim-centric. If there’s one narrative it is then the only narrative. My family are Assyrian via Baghdad and the West Bank; an ethnicity most wouldn’t have heard of outside of a British Museum cloister. A well-known British Lebanese satirist named Karl Sharro described being Assyrian as a made up identity, an opinion that was even published in the New Yorker. If he had suggested that any other ethnicity was made up, you can rest assure there would have been uproar, cancellation, consequences for the publishing editor and the article would’ve been pulled. On the handful of instances where I have been trolled for my comedy content the culprits are often Western born with Middle Eastern heritage who equate talking about my ethnicity as anti-Arab or Islamophobic. Recalibrating people’s perceptions about the Middle East is part of my mission with WMH, especially within our own communities. If we can all laugh under the same roof that’s a great way to start.
The June bank holiday will see the first ever WMH comedy festival with 10 one hour shows from acts from a wide range of genres from story-telling, traditional stand-up, sketch, character and musical comedy, as well as a mixed bill show on the opening night. As far as I can tell it is the only comedy festival in the UK dedicated to Middle Eastern performers. Festivals can be just as frustrating as they are enjoyable for comedians and frequently burn a hole in one’s pocket with organisers concentrating on promoting the bigger names, not to mention the unpredictability of live performance during a pandemic. Instead, I’m working for our performers in a way that can allow them to focus on their creative process as well as this being a brilliant way to welcome new acts and audiences.
Jenan Younis @jenandoesstuff is the BBC New Voices Winner and will be performing her show “A Conflict of Disinterest” on Friday June 3rd 2022 18:00. Get tickets here.
The Weapons of Mass Hilarity Comedy Festival will take place on 2 – 4 June 2022 at 2Northdown, King’s Cross, London, and will feature Yasmeen Audisho Ghrawi, Maria Shehata, Daphna Baram, Jenan Younis, Anoushka Rava, Patrick Monahan, Darius Davies, Victoria Howden, Shirley & Shirley, Yazan Fetto and Amir Khoshsokhan. Find out more here.