Saved by Bill, Chris, and Jon: The Healing Power of Humor

I recently read Elizabeth Smart's memoir of survival, My Story. I like reading survival stories to see how the protagonists cope with the hardships of life. Ms. Smart, a blue-eyed, angelic-looking blonde, who was living a happy, upper-middle-class life in Utah when she was kidnapped at fourteen, would seem to have little in common with a dark-skinned, mean-looking, sixty-something black woman, who survived an unhappy, working-class childhood in the Jim Crow South. But as I read her book, I discovered one common trait--a bitingly sarcastic sense of humor.

I was not surprised to discover that Elizabeth relied on her Mormon faith and her strong family ties (she felt that her grandfather, who had died just before she was kidnapped, was with her, giving her strength) to survive the nine months of torture that she endured, but that she was able (at fourteen) to fight back in her head with witty takedowns of her captors shocked me. I never laughed out loud at her sarcastic comments, but I enjoyed them and recognized that they gave her strength. If she had just found her captors scary and crazy, she might not have survived or had the courage to outwit them, but because she also saw them as ridiculous and foolish, she was able to trick them into taking her back to Utah where she was saved.

While I didn't experience anything as traumatic as being kidnapped from my bed by a sadistic pedophile, masquerading as a prophet, my memoir recounts how I coped with alcoholism (my father's), verbal abuse (from my mother), TB (mine), and rape (of my mother), as well as racism and sexism. Still, the Kirkus reviewer described it as "improbably comic." That's because I am a clown who loves to laugh and provoke laughter. When one of my officemates realized that I was more popular with the men in the department than she was because of my sense of humor, she said, "They (the men) don't take you seriously, Mary." My response was: "I don't take myself seriously. That's been the key to my survival." My humor was also the key to my success as a teacher. Even the students who disliked English found my classes fun and me funny. And the few times that I disliked teaching a class it was usually because something happened that caused me to lose my sense of humor.

Earlier this year, I spent a few weeks debating (by e-mail) one of those intolerant religious fanatics who get on my last nerve. This one has little or no sense of humor. At one point during the debate, I named as my saviors the atheist Bill Maher, the Jewish Jon Stewart, and the black man of unknown religion, Chris Rock. I was being facetious, of course, but I was also giving these three liberal clowns credit for keeping me from exploding during heated political periods, especially election years. When I'm going crazy over how the Republicans are treating Obama or the lies that are being told about the healthcare law, I'll check out Jon Stewart during the week, hoping he will ridicule the people who are getting on my nerves or I'll watch Bill Maher on Friday, hoping he will call them out during his New Rules and Republicans in a Bubble segments.

But the best example of how I was saved by a comedian involves Chris Rock during the 2008 election. At some point after Sarah Palin had joined the Republican ticket, Bill Clinton appeared on "The View" suggesting that women voting for Sarah, who had nothing in common with Hillary, was the same as blacks voting for Obama, who had minor differences with Hillary. Mind you, this was before Colin Powell endorsed Obama. Bill was suggesting that women, who were Democrats, could vote for Sarah for the same reason that blacks, who are overwhelmingly Democrat and have always supported white Democrats, were voting for Obama. I almost lost my mind. I was upset all day because liberal female comedians and co-hosts of "The View," Joy Behar and Whoopi Goldberg, didn't take him on. That night just before I went to bed, I decided to catch a bit of the usually amusing David Letterman's show, hoping he could say something that would make me forget Bill. When I turned to CBS, guess who was sitting there talking to David. Right, Bill Clinton. I could feel my blood pressure rising, but fortunately, he was finishing his interview, and the next guest was Chris Rock. Chris came out and started joking about how Bill acted as if Obama was a brother-in-law that he had to recommend for a job. When Chris ended his comic rant with, "I love Hillary, but she lost," I jumped up as if I were in a Baptist Church and had been hit by the spirit, "Tell him, Chris!" I shouted. "Right on! Right on! Right on!" Thank God (or Clowns), my mother's hearing was going by then because she probably would have thought I had lost my mind if she had awakened and heard me shouting, but actually Chris and the other comedians have helped keep me sane.

I feel sorry for people who don't have a sense of humor. I don't know how they survive without it. My sense of humor and my favorite comedians have saved me from strokes, heart attacks, and probably even murder throughout my now lengthy life.