Can Diversity Be Funny?

This article was published in The Five Disciplines of Inclusive Leaders: Unleashing the Power of All of Us.

Before the live taping of The Daily Show begins, a video mocks the safety demo before a flight takes off. The live audience is warned that there may be jokes made about Black people. They calmly instruct us to look if your Black friend is laughing first before you start laughing. We see the African American actor Roy Wood, Jr. laughing before his White female colleague Desi Lydic finally releases her nervous tension with a culturally appropriate laugh. The show hasn’t even begun yet, but we’ve already chuckled together through a conversation about race and been primed for the diversity lessons we are about to receive.?

American society is a tinderbox right now due to its inability to reconcile its differences across political ideologies, race and ethnicity, gender, religion, sexual orientation, immigrant status, etc. As I sit in the middle of an audience reflective of this vast diversity, I think about how we could all use a good laugh together. And I wonder: can Trevor Noah, and other comedians like him, help us bridge the divides?

In an ideal inclusive society, people from different backgrounds wouldn’t laugh at each other, but would laugh together.?Just as food has been one of the most prevailing ways to bring people together, can laughter do the same?

This is an urgent question for me personally and professionally. I work in the field of diversity and inclusion (D&I) in Silicon Valley and it is work fraught with so many pitfalls that it’s tempting to say that it’s not even funny. But there I am in that TV studio outside my workspace laughing at the very discomforts I lean into so seriously as a corporate consultant who does training and D&I strategy.

"Unlike the audience of?The Daily Show, most of the people in my diversity classes don’t choose to be there... As you can imagine this does not put them in the best mood to learn."

Unlike the audience of The Daily Show, most of the people in my diversity classes don’t choose to be there but are informally mandated or strongly encouraged by their employer. As you can imagine this does not put them in the best mood to learn. But the goals of Trevor Noah’s show and of the work I and many others like me do in D&I are the same: getting people to rise above their daily suspicions and antagonisms, see their own blind spots, and be more empathetic toward others.

I use reason, business cases, and the shared goals employees of the same company have. It works, and actually quite well. But it’s often all so serious and we don’t laugh much at all.?But when interviewing Miss Universe Zozibini Tunzi on The Daily Show, she expressed her concern about gender-based violence and how she feels “...women are an endangered species these days. I feel like one day we’re just going to wake up and there’s no women anymore.” Trevor replied, “That would be horrible! That’s why I am an ally!” Bam! While we are doubled over with laughter, he slips in past our weakened defenses and unmasks our prejudices.

Comedians such as Trevor Noah, Issa Rae, Mindy Kaling, Hasan Minhaj, Arturo Castro, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Ellen DeGeneres, Ali Wong, Ronny Chieng, Ilana Glazer, Abbi Jacobson, Kate Willett, Awkwafina (Nora Lum), Amanda Seales, and Wanda?Yvette Sykes are educating audiences around the globe about diversity and inclusion. Through personal stories, they ignore politically correct taboos and engage in the painful realities of people from underrepresented communities.?

Trevor Noah tells jokes about living under apartheid. In his book Born a Crime, he states, “The hood made me realize that crime succeeds because crime does the one thing the government doesn’t do: crime cares. Crime is grassroots. Crime looks for the young kids who need support and a lifting hand. Crime offers internship programs and summer jobs and opportunities for advancement. Crime gets involved in the community. Crime doesn’t discriminate.” Issa Rae navigates the challenges of Black womanhood through personal coming of age stories. In Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, she states, “When I was a teenager, for example, others questioned my blackness because some of the life choices I made weren’t considered to be “black” choices: joining the swim team when it is a known fact that “black people don’t swim,” or choosing to become a vegetarian when blacks clearly love chicken.” Mindy Kaling and Hasan Minhaj demonstrate the challenges of growing up in immigrant families. In The Mindy Show, her character proudly explains her choice to have a Hindu head shaving ceremony for her child, “I just don't want my kid to learn how to be an Indian from a Bombay Palace menu on my fridge.”?

Similarly, in an episode of Alternatino with Arturo Castro, he describes how he goes on dates with White women who want him to speak Spanish with a strong accent and salsa dance with him, even though he really doesn’t like to dance. I hate to admit it, but I have been that White woman.

How to bring this irreverence and challenge to corporate diversity? Of course, one must handle charged issues related to race, gender, sexual orientation, and disability with care and in ways that don’t lead to cruel jokes and stereotypes that hurt others and create an unsafe environment. On the other, we need to be less afraid and call things out as they are. Humor, when done right, can take enough of the edge off.

I did ask two comedians who have performed on Netflix whether comedy can save us in these polarized times. To my dismay, they both said no.

I am not ready to accept that answer. When we so desperately need to have more conversations across difference in the U.S., comedy can be the key to open that door. In Trevor Noah’s Netflix show You Laugh But It’s Funny, he declares, “When you laugh at the same things, you realize how much you share.”?Without dialogue between people from different sides and groups, we won’t be able to de-escalate the deepening and growing polarization.?