Old Beginnings

This week I got a new job. After 18 months away from classroom teaching I have decided to return to it. 

Over the last 18 months I’ve made a living from education without doing any classroom teaching. I made this change to free up more time and energy to pursue stand-up comedy. I thought it was what I wanted. Prior to doing this, I would only gig in the school holidays, meaning over seven years I amassed just 50 gigs. I’ve now taken that number to over 300. So why am I giving up on my dream? My line-manager asked me this week if it was my girlfriend’s doing. Like she was Yoko Ono. The sub-text being: had she grown tired of our meals out being subsidized by Groupon? I would love to say that I’m sacrificing my dream to offer a concrete future to the woman I love, but that’s not the case. In fact, she’s been the one who has urged me to continue as long as I’m happy doing it. The truth is stand-up doesn’t make me happy. At least not performing it with the regularity I have.

I’ve had amazing experiences doing comedy. There have been gigs where I’ve experienced true transcendence: highs so high I’ve felt in danger of never coming down. I’m reminded of a gig in Luton where a heckler, Esmeralda, threatened to derail the whole night by talking loudly and persistently through the opening acts. It was only 8 o’clock and she was already hammered. She was only going to get worse, so I wasn’t in any way looking forward to going on. But then the MC challenged her discourtesy to which the audience, instead of sitting and saying nothing, applauded him; thus making her aware she was not wanted. Embarrassed, Esmeralda upped and left, returning to whatever fairytale kingdom her stupid name came from. The gig from that point on was wonderful. The other acts were brilliant, stripping the audience of any inhibitions. By the time I went on the crowd's reserve lay like knickers on the floor, all I had to do was jump on and ride those lungs to laughter town. Which I did over and over again. It was the most incredible feeling. Elated, I barely slept that night.

I've done this to people.

However, there have been time when I’ve failed completely to elicit any joy from an audience. Like a limp dick at an orgy, I’ve disappointed every fucker in the room. It is times like this when the stage feels a very lonely place. The trouble with my material, other than its questionable quality, is that it's narrative-driven. If the audience isn’t on board at the beginning, then it’s very unlikely they’re going to be on the train come the end. Consequently, a poor start usually means a 5-minute set can feel interminable. It’s not just the failure I find difficult to deal with; it’s the nerves. I always feel nervous before I go on stage, particularly when I do new material. Instead of recognising comedy is a process where failure begets success, I beat myself up and think the only thing I'm succeeding in is failing. This clearly isn't healthy.

I've done this to people.

The truth is I feel I’ve pushed my confidence as far as it can go. I know this isn’t what you would read in self-help books but there you go. Just over ten years ago, I left school with no confidence at all. I had gone through secondary education without saying a thing in class. I had confused my Catholic school for a monastery and thought it requisite to take a vow of silence. At university I fared little better: intimidated by students from the debating school classes, I said less. Leaving university I knew that I had to turn myself around; as a result I enrolled on a comedy course. This in turn led me to have the confidence to be a teacher. Comedy gave me the belief that I could stand in front of a group of apathetic teenagers and imbue in them a passion, an enthusiasm, at the very least, a begrudging respect for literature. Without that first foray into comedy, I would never have had the belief that I could lead, motivate and – dare I say - inspire.  I’ll always be grateful to comedy; it has taken me further as a person than the schoolboy me would ever have dreamed.

So yes, I’m returning to my old job, but I don’t see it as a step back; I see it as a return. Better to be a successful teacher than an unsuccessful comedian. If you want to be successful in something, then you have to have a passion for it. I love watching stand-up comedy but I haven’t enjoyed performing it of late. I have huge respect for the people who have the strength of character, dedication and natural charisma to make it; I have neither of those things. What I do have is a burning passion for language and I will do my utmost to impart this on young people. I’ve even been asked to start a stand-up group at my new school so maybe I’ll be responsible for helping inspire a new wave of comedians. 

Comedians who want it more than me.

Ryan is an honorable man of art so will fulfil his contractual obligations to promoters by appearing at their nights up until his last gig in June. If you want to see him unshackled from comedy as a career plan, then dates will follow soon on Facebook.