Margaret Cho, a comedian and three-time Grammy Award winner, has worked in multiple creative industries, including film, television, writing, music, and theater. She is also known for charitable work on gay rights, anti-bullying campaigns, and homelessness.
Your career has been staked, in part, on destigmatizing the idea of deriving pleasure from one’s sexuality. Is that work political, and, if yes, how so?
It’s political in that, oftentimes, when it refers to women, sexuality is somehow all about pleasing your partner or pleasing men. My philosophy about sexuality is that it’s actually not about romance or partnering; it’s about the body and your connection to yourself. When we can actually claim our own sexuality and our own pleasure, it’s political because it frees us from a lot of things — the male gaze, the patriarchy. Women’s sexuality has been used as a bargaining tool or a way for men to control women, as we now see very clearly in the attempt to defund Planned Parenthood. Women’s sexuality is important to define as a stand alone — not partnered sex, not there in service to another being. Our sexuality is our own to understand. That’s why I think it’s political.
You’ve also said that women are socialized to stay silent, especially with regard to their sexuality. With that in mind, to what extent do you think it’s possible to know whether unambiguous consent was given?
Consent is so important. A lot of times we’re forced into silence about [the question of] “where in this act were we complicit?” Women are always questioning that. But the fact is, consent is an absolute, and it’s really very important to understand all levels of consent…It’s very hard for women to get rid of the shame of being raped. Date rape, which is very, very common, or acquaintance rape, are hard to prosecute because if you went on the date, you consented to the date, and the question becomes, “Does that denote consent to sex?” It doesn’t. It shouldn’t, obviously not…I just don’t believe women lie about rape…It’s a crazy thing because whenever we report a rape, we’re still considered somehow part of the crime. We have the burden of proof…This is the biggest disadvantage, and it’s not just in the courts. This goes beyond courts into society. When you say that you were raped, it actually opens you up to [being perceived as a] rape accomplice — which is slut shaming, which is telling this woman that she’s a liar…Whatever the reasoning is, we — not the rapist — are actually considered the criminal.
The word “survivor” is used at Brown to describe people who have experienced sexual assault. You use the term “victim” to describe yourself. Can you speak about the difference between those two words and why you choose to identify as you do?
I actually identify as a survivor. I would rather identify as a survivor but, in certain conversations, victim is actually more appropriate. I would prefer that everybody use the word survivor but just putting it in the context of, “if a woman is a victim of this crime,” we’re still considered a criminal and have the burden of proof. Being a survivor and reframing our history is far more healing, and I’m definitely part of that.
The scope of your work is incredibly broad: You’ve hosted talk shows, done comedy and been a burlesque dancer. Is there theory behind that diversity?
I just sort of made it up as I went along because I didn’t have any kind of real role models or whatever. It’s just kind of a consequence. It’s weird; I never thought that much about having a political agenda until later — it was kind of just created. I was doing comedy very young, and I was around Harvey Milk and around his very earliest supporters, so that sort of drew me into gay politics. So then his assassination was so painful. And then right after that we had the plague of AIDS, and through the AIDS crisis — all the way throughout — I learned how to be political by participating in these political rallies and actually became a comedian by addressing audiences that were made up of really early political groups like Act Up and Queer Nation — these kinds of worlds.
You’ve also done some hip hop and rap. Have you thought about the politics of a nonblack woman of color doing hip hop and doing rap?
I actually don’t do hip hop very often because I’m actually not very good…I’m not really taking on the persona of a rapper. Iggy Azalea is a good example of somebody that always gets blamed for cultural appropriation. My raps are actually very Asian. I’m still really Asian about rapping, and I think that’s good. I don’t pretend to be anything other than what I am as a rapper.
What do you think your role as an Asian-American woman of color is in speaking out against and fighting anti-blackness?
Oh it’s very important, especially the Black Lives Matter movement. We’re really in a state of emergency when it comes to race and police brutality. And I think that this has always been happening, we just had no way to document it…For me, it’s incredibly important to support Black Lives Matter and speak out on issues for all people of color and all minorities: This is really our issue. We are at war with the police and that’s a really disturbing thing.
Given your wealth of experience in different types of comedy and performance, what do you think the specific usefulness of comedy is as a medium to access political ideas?
This has been going on for a while. Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor both talk about culture and politics and race through their work…More actively, you see the effect that the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, Bill Maher, [and] Stephen Colbert have. All of their actions on their shows had a great impact on political conversations, political dialogue — everything that was going on. So we’re still continuing in that era where politics is using comedians as a kind of vehicle for the message, whatever that message is. You see it on the right too…The best medium is through comedy because comedy is just the exchange of ideas. And politics is a very natural expression. It’s a good thing to talk about.