Hannah Gadsby: Three ideas. Three contradictions. Or not.
Hannah Gadsby skewers the straight world's dismissal and outright hostility toward the LGBTQ community in her stand-up sets, stage performances and television shows. Full bio
Double-click the English transcript below to play the video.
the same forwards and backwards,
because I'm a comedian.
you know about me already:
you can know about me:
to speak my own mind.
of a contradiction, then,
who is so bad at the chat,
a stand-up comedian.
comedi -- comedie ... See?
virtual mute with low self-esteem
and stood in front of the audience,
landed my first joke,
I couldn't work out why.
at doing something I was so bad at?
I could not understand it.
at something I'm so bad at,
of contradiction into the work
I worked out why that was,
that little oppositional cat
where after quitting comedy,
comedian on the planet,
at making retirement plans
of biographical detail
that I have three ideas
three contradictions:
I am good at talking;
why there's only two things
a list of contradictions.
that with a talk of this length,
with just sharing one idea.
what is clearly very good advice,
to the beginning of this talk,
of the comedian trade,
create a pattern,
Kayak. What?
fundamental to the way I do my craft,
to the way I communicate.
anything for nobody,
stands for three ideas:
as a professional comedian.
that fine line between being charming
to generate the amount of charm I needed
are filled with stories:
my coming out story,
for being not only a woman
and a masculine-of-center woman.
check the comments out below
where I shift into second gear,
about everything I've just said.
was the loving matriarch
the connection already,
to say goodbye to my grandma
cocooned within herself by then,
in a long time,
to write to my grandma
stories and anecdotes
as I tried to carve my tiny little life
comfort in those letters,
with my grandma in mind.
more and more overwhelming
got worse, not better,
that Grandma would want to read about.
if I had a boyfriend.
a conscious decision in that moment
was drawing to an end,
the ways we were different.
the ways were we connected.
like the right decision.
to my grandmother's life
I'd made a mistake
part of my life.
I'd missed my opportunity,
I had to deal with too many onions
where homosexuality was illegal.
I could see how tightly wrapped
internalized shame I was.
about all my traumas:
kept popping into my mind
I felt the most akin to my grandmother.
traits in common.
most akin to in the world
a great-grandmother,
of my branch of the family tree.
I was still connected to the trunk.
was the most intensely creative
at an end, my thoughts gather
of sensibly collected think pieces.
language of hieroglyphics
and think deeply with.
or even haberdash,
process of translation,
like I said, I'm not great at it.
like an inadequate freeze-frame
than I've ever been able to communicate.
sort my life out like a normal person
like a normal person,
I still don't struggle.
what my struggle is,
of normal is not it.
of the storm as best I can.
us spectrum types find our calm --
and obsessive thinking --
into the eye of the storm:
I'm neurodivergent, yes,
that scares the hell out of most people.
on which to hang bits of me
with a newfound confidence
that confidence took a dive,
and always had been.
and PTSD have so much in common.
that the way out of trauma
of my traumas.
but the onions still stung.
my stories for laughs.
cutting away the pain
for the comfort of my audience.
other people through laughs,
the literal, visceral pain of my trauma.
would be through a comedy show.
that did not respect the punchline,
and trusted to pull their punches
and hold my pain
as a mindless, laughing mob.
and I called that show "Nanette."
is definitely not a comedy show,
I broke comedy.
so I could rebuild it and reshape it,
that could better hold everything
when I said I quit comedy.
where you're going, "Yeah, cool,
who have already identified three ideas.
that I don't have three ideas.
and that was a lie.
I'm very funny.
whole handfuls of my ideas as seeds,
all throughout my talk.
my grandma always used to say.
it's the gardening that counts."
the truth to that truism.
the contract of comedy
in all its truth and pain
into the margins of both life and art.
that cost in order to tell my truth.
It pulled me closer.
I found connection.
of that contradiction
at something I am so bad at.
makes it difficult for me to think,
with my audience.
taught me anything,
not just on me.
in a whole world of other minds,
bigger than me,
is so much bigger than all of us.
ABOUT THE SPEAKER
Hannah Gadsby - Serious comedianHannah Gadsby skewers the straight world's dismissal and outright hostility toward the LGBTQ community in her stand-up sets, stage performances and television shows.
Why you should listen
How would Hannah Gadsby describe herself to a teenager at a dinner party? "I am a stand-up comedian from Tasmania. Courtesy of my Netflix special, Nanette, released last year, I have found some rather sudden fame, and I am deeply uncomfortable with so much positive attention. Prior to said special, I had spent a decade or so quietly working my way round the live stand-up circuit in Australia and the UK and had thought of my career as a reasonably successful situation. I am yet to recalibrate my definition of success since the event known as 'said special.'
"I am on the spectrum. I have two dogs whom I love deeply. I enjoy gardening. And I am so sorry you are sitting next to me, teenager."
Gadsby is also on the cast of Please Like Me on Hulu.
Hannah Gadsby | Speaker | TED.com