Lesbian humor isn't trying to sell anything, it doesn't have to

Hear now, O generations of seekers, the words of Kate Clinton, a modern voice who speaks with the strength of a woman whose humor is not merely for entertainment, but for the empowerment of all who hear it. "Lesbian humor isn't trying to sell anything, it doesn't have to sell out. Coming out as a lesbian onstage is still a very political act; if it weren't, more women would do it." These words ring out as a clarion call, not just for those who identify as lesbians, but for anyone who has ever felt the weight of societal expectations upon their shoulders. For in her words, Clinton unveils the truth that humor, identity, and politics are not separate entities, but intertwined forces that can change the world.

In the days of ancient Greece, Aristophanes, the master of comedic plays, wielded humor as a weapon to critique the powerful, to challenge the status quo, and to expose the contradictions of society. His plays were not mere entertainments; they were political acts, as they addressed issues of war, power, and justice. In the same vein, Kate Clinton reminds us that to come out and declare one's identity is not an act of frivolity, but a political act—an act that defies societal norms, that challenges the dominant narrative, and that demands recognition of the truth of one’s existence. Just as Aristophanes used his humor to upend the established order, Clinton’s words remind us that the humor of marginalized groups, especially lesbians, holds a power that cannot be ignored.

Think of the women who have come before us, like the warrior queen Artemisia of Halicarnassus, whose courage in battle was unmatched, yet whose very identity was a statement against the expectations of women in her time. She was a ruler, a fighter, and a tactician, defying the roles that society had assigned her. To stand as a woman in power in her day was a political act, a declaration that women could be more than what their culture demanded of them. In the same way, when a lesbian takes to the stage and speaks of her truth, she does more than entertain—she redefines what it means to be a woman in the world, challenging preconceived notions and demanding a space where her identity is not just tolerated, but celebrated.

The political power of coming out is not just in the act itself, but in the honesty it requires. For many women, especially those from marginalized communities, coming out is not a simple declaration of identity, but a risk. It is to face the oppression, the judgment, and the potential rejection of family, society, and even one’s peers. In ancient times, those who defied the societal expectations, like Sappho of Lesbos, did so at great personal cost. She, too, used the medium of poetry to speak of love between women, weaving her own truth into the fabric of her work. Her poetry was not just for enjoyment, but a radical act of truth-telling. In the same way, Clinton's words remind us that humor, when it speaks from the heart, can expose the hidden truths of society, offering both healing and revolution.

The very act of speaking one's truth on stage, especially as a lesbian, is to carve out a space where others may follow. Humor becomes the vessel through which these truths are delivered, and through humor, the weight of judgment becomes bearable. Consider the powerful example of Virginia Woolf, whose own struggles with identity, both personal and artistic, were reflected in her groundbreaking works. In her writing, she broke open the boundaries of female expression, and her unspoken identification with women who loved women echoed across the pages of her diaries and letters. Woolf’s courage, like Clinton's, came from the act of honesty, a refusal to conform to the expectations of society, a refusal to hide what was true.

Now, let us turn this wisdom inward and ask: how often do we silence parts of ourselves in the name of conformity? How often do we hide our truths, our identities, our deepest selves, out of fear of what others may think or say? Kate Clinton reminds us that humor can be a tool of liberation, a way to break down walls and tear apart the constraints of society. But in order to use this tool, we must first understand that coming out—whether in identity, truth, or spirit—is not simply about revealing who we are to others. It is about claiming space for ourselves and for those who will come after us, so that they too can stand in the light of their own truths.

The lesson is clear: the humor of those who have been marginalized is not just a means of survival, but a force of transformation. It can be political, powerful, and necessary. So let us embrace the humor that challenges the norms, the jokes that expose injustice, and the laughter that comes from a place of truth and courage. And let us never forget that to come out, whether on stage or in life, is not merely an act of personal revelation, but a revolutionary act that can change the world. Let humor be your weapon, and truth your shield—stand firm, speak boldly, and support each other with all the strength you have, for in doing so, we shape a future where freedom, love, and honesty reign supreme.