Atlanta’s Laughing Skull Comedy Festival Has Booked No Black Women This Year

When people began commenting on Laughing Skull’s Instagram asking about the lineup, the club responded by saying less than 10 Black women submitted. The addition of “Cheers!” at the end of the message led commenters to feel they were being blown off.

Thursday evening, Laughing Skull explained the festival’s selection process on its Facebook page:

When reached for comment late Thursday night a Laughing Skull representative told Paste they would be releasing a statement at some point on Friday. As of press time it hasn’t been released.

The idea of any comedy festival in 2019 not featuring any Black women identified performers is absurd, but in Atlanta of all places, it seems particularly strange. The city is largely African American, 54% as of the 2010 census, with a long and rich history of Black art. However, the comedy scene in Atlanta remains passively segregated between “Urban” and largely white rooms.

Atlanta’s Uptown Comedy Club is widely considered to be one of the best “Urban”—white shorthand for Black—clubs in America. Rising stars like Karlous Miller and DC Young Fly got their start in Atlanta’s Urban scene. A new crop of upcoming talent is developing in venues like the Atlanta Comedy Theater.

There are also exists a largely white comedy scene, which encompasses the city’s alt scene and clubs like Laughing Skull and Punchline. People of color regularly flourish in these spaces. Atlanta vets like Dulce Sloan, Mia Jackson and Rob Haze graduated to TV spots after leaving the city. Sloan herself was the second place winner of the 2015 Laughing Skull Festival. But that doesn’t change the often overwhelming whiteness of the scene.

As a former Atlanta comic myself, I know first hand the complicated racial issues that surround comedy within the city. Sometimes I caused them, and when I did I was rightfully called out by my peers. It’s important to not discount the work of the numerous Atlanta comedians of color who perform and promote outside of the city’s alt scene. Rooms like The 1AM Secret Show, now run by David Perdue and Anthony Driver, book some of the most diverse lineups in the South. There are also comics across all racial lines who work in both spaces. As I said, it’s complicated.

Another issue at play is the importance of what “fairness” means. Laughing Skull says they booked the festival based on a simple metric: delivery, material, originality, professionalism, and overall impression. That sounds fair enough on paper. But when no Black women make it through 1,000 applicants, the question then becomes, who was watching as much as how many submitted?

Laughing Skull doesn’t list who is on its judging panel, but the makeup of that panel is radically important to the scoring of those categories. A panel made up of five white men, or hell, five men period, will have a different perspective on comedy. If the panel has one woman and four men, it would be easy for those four men’s opinions override the woman’s.

When we talk about diversity in comedy the focus is usually on lineups, like the conversation we’re having right now. But diversity in booking goes beyond who’s on stage. The people booking a festival need to be as diverse as the audience they hope to draw in. If your judges are all white men, and we don’t know if that’s the case with Laughing Skull, that’s going to impact how comics are scored.

People in the industry like to say “funny is funny,” but that’s absurd. Anyone who’s ever told a dark joke on stage to soul-crushing silence knows that’s true. Different audiences respond to different things, and if you want to build an audience that’s diverse you need to make sure your gatekeepers have eclectic tastes. The best way to do to that is by making sure your judging panel doesn’t all the look the same. When ranking is based on blind scoring that becomes even more important. The numbers may be blind, but if the judges are five white guys, those blind numbers learned to laugh in similar places.

A problem can exist without being malicious; in fact, passive problems often take the longest to solve. Laughing Skull Festival is wildly successful, selling out shows in almost every comedy venue in the city during the week it runs. It’s a beacon for the comedy industry, from late night to Just For Laughs. When you’re on top there’s seldom reason to reflect.

Laughing Skull has stated that “fewer than 10 Black women” out of 1000 comedians submitted. That statistic is staggering. More Black women have asked to do my bar show in Los Angeles in the last three months than one of the most nationally recognized comedy festivals in the country. Laughing Skull has a reputation for showcasing the best and brightest in the industry, but one of comedy’s most vital, flourishing communities is absent from this year’s festival.

Booking a comedy show or festival goes beyond “this is the best of who submitted,” especially for a club like the Skull. It’s a reflection of the humor an institution sees the value of. It’s easy to say “they should submit if they want to be considered” but it’s much harder to ask why they didn’t submit at all. These may be painful questions, but they’re important ones, especially for institutions the industry respects.

Note: The author of this piece is currently booked to perform at the Laughing Skull Lounge later on in the month of March.