This week, we’re highlighting 25 talented writers and performers for Vulture’s annual list “The Comedians You Should and Will Know.” Our goal is to introduce a wider audience to the talent that has the comedy community and industry buzzing. (You can read more about our methodology at the link above.) We asked the comedians on the list to answer a series of questions about their work, performing, goals for the future, and more. Next up is Asha Ward.
Tell us a story from your childhood you think explains why you ended up becoming a comedian.
I used to get kicked out of class a lot for laughing. I remember once I moved schools, and on my last day, at the end of the day, my teacher pulled me aside and told me she was glad I was leaving because I would make whoever I sat next to in class laugh too much. She moved me around the room multiple times, but no matter who I sat next to, we would be laughing too loud and not paying attention — which is interesting, because I was never popular or the class-clown type. I was obsessed with marching band and primarily wore graphic T-shirts from the men’s section of Five Below. I was a weirdo in a very classical sense, so people didn’t really talk to me unless they had to. So I kind of made it my mission to prove to whoever was assigned to sit next to me: No, actually, you’re wrong, I’m cool and funny.
What unscripted or reality series do you think you’d excel at? What archetype do you think you’d be?
Probably Jersey Shore, because I use a bunch of hair gel and I love being in groups of eight to ten people. I was also born to party and not go to work on time. My archetype would be nonbinary Snooki or the female Pauly D, because I am a jester and I don’t like to be in drama, but I do love to be in the room while it’s happening.
What’s your proudest achievement of your comedy career so far?
I’m the youngest writer at Saturday Night Live! Less than a year ago, I was a receptionist and doing stand-up at bars at night. So it’s very cool and almost surreal.
I graduated in 2021 right on the back end of quarantine. As a result of the pandemic, a lot of comedy institutions and underground comedy venues in Chicago had shut down, and many comedians there were moving to either L.A. or New York. I had no idea what I was gonna do with myself, so I moved back in with my dad in Baltimore and started working this virtual job that sucked. The plan was to save up and move to New York to pursue comedy, but they fired me after three weeks because I was bad at it.
I was at a point where I was sort of just rotting in my bedroom, so I was like. Fuck it! I lied on my résumé and said I lived in Brooklyn and applied for this dental receptionist job. They asked me if I could come in for an interview the next day. I was like three states over and said, “Yeah, no problem.” Then I got on a bus, went to the interview, and got hired. It sounds super-cliché, but I moved the next week with like a suitcase and $100 to my name. I crashed with my aunt in Queens for a month until I made enough money to rent a room in Brooklyn. Then when I moved to Brooklyn, I started doing open mics again, and things just started rolling from there.
Doing comedy in a new city is definitely challenging because you’re essentially starting from the bottom. I was a part of the scene in Chicago, but in New York, nobody knew who I was, so I had to sort of prove myself again, which was super-daunting. New York comedy also operates at a different level and speed than Chicago because of the sheer amount of mics, rooms, and other comedians. It’s a little more difficult to stand out here, and that pushed me to become better.
I was spending more time doing comedy, which was great, but I was also waking up at 6 a.m. every day to work my day job six days a week and then doing shows at night. I was averaging around four hours of sleep a night. I knew that lifestyle was not sustainable, but I had a feeling something would come of it.
I got a meeting with Ego Nwodim to talk about writing for her, and they hired me mid-season. It was crazy and superfast. I was clocking in as a receptionist on Monday, and by Saturday the same week, a sketch I helped write was being aired on live television. I later found out one of the writing supervisors, Gary Richardson, saw me do stand-up and got me the SNL audition and pushed for me superhard. So shout-out Gary and Ego! Working at SNL can be super-intense and stressful, but I am legit having the most fun in my life there. Anytime I get paid to be funny, I’m still like, Wow, I can’t believe this is real.
What have you learned about your own joke-writing process that you didn’t know when you started?
I love a one-liner. I used to try so hard to make my jokes longer and try to tell stories, but that’s just not me. I just want the meat and potatoes of it. I love to cut jokes down to the least amount of words possible so it’s as quick and as punchy as possible. It’s like, Yes, girl, shut up!
I used to approach writing in a way where I was like, I want to talk about this subject — let me think of funny things to say under that umbrella. Now I write the punch line first and find a way to set it up later, sort of like a puzzle. I’m always thinking, How do I take this one line and connect it to the greater whole of my personal identity? How do I take this dumb thing I just said and make it art?
I went to college for comedy, so I was constantly being told rules about how you should do it — like joke structure, how you should act onstage, how you should hold the mic, the volume you should speak into it — and I’ve noticed I tend to stray away from those rules. I do pretty much everything my professors told me not to, and it’s been working out well. Overall, the more I do comedy, the less I think about what it should be and the more I think about what I personally want to create. Something I always ask myself when writing is, Do I like this, or does this just sound like something a comedian would say?
Tell us everything about your worst show ever. (This can involve venue, audience, other comedians on the lineup, anything!)
The worst show I ever did was in the back of a super-cold bar. Only one guy showed up as the audience. The host of the show didn’t cancel, he made us do the show for one man. He did a 15-minute host set, and the guy didn’t laugh once. It was so surreal. I did a protest set where I told one new joke, asked the guy if he liked it, then I said to the other comedians, “You know we don’t have to do this, right? We can maybe all just get a drink and talk to each other like humans.”
Nobody was in a good mood. It was terrible. The guy stayed the whole time, though! I don’t know why comedians are like that, but we will do a set no matter how bad the vibes are. I am no stranger to a bad show — it’s all good fun. The power went out on the first show I was ever booked on. I did my set with no mic under the flashlight of an iPhone. It was low-key magical. And not to brag, but I kind of murdered.
Let’s say we live in a “Kings of Catchphrase Comedy” alternate dimension where every single comedian is required to have a hit catchphrase. What’s yours and why?
“And that’s on cooter!” I love the word “cooter.” I think it’s so funny, and my favorite jokes are when I’m talking about my pussy for some reason. This is a silly question. If I can’t say “cooter” on Vulture, can I say “cooch”? And If I can’t say “cooch,” I guess my catchphrase would be “That’s just where I’m at.” Sometimes I say things and I’m just like, “Yeah … That’s just where I’m at.”
Nominate one comedian you don’t know personally you think is overdue for wider recognition and why you’re a fan of their work.
Richard Perez. I’ve seen Richard perform multiple times, and every time, I am always entranced. He has such a captivating stage presence, and what he does is so unique. I still have yet to see anything like it. It’s not stand-up, not sketch — I don’t know what to call it; you have to see it for yourself. He does a solo show called I Have to Do This that’s directed by Charlie Bardey, who is also super-talented. Richard is just someone who is proper silly, and he doesn’t even have to say a word to make you laugh. It’s quite magical. I am a hard-core Richard stan.
When it comes to your comedy opinions — about material, performing, audience, trends you want to kill/revive, the industry, etc. — what hill will you die on?
I hate Instagram stand-up Reels. I’ve posted some and probably will again, but I hate it. When I go on Instagram, I want to see what my acquaintances are eating for lunch, I want to see photo dumps, I want to see Family Guy memes. I don’t want to see stand-up, but maybe that’s just me. We live in the age of content now, so we have to do that sometimes to sell tickets, etc. But I love going on a comedian’s Instagram and seeing them be normal. It’s so refreshing.
If you had to come onstage to just one song for the rest of your life, what song would it be and why?
“COSY,” by Ayrtn. Because it’s a cool song, not too slow, not too hype, and I love British rappers.
What is the best comedy advice, and then the worst comedy advice, you’ve ever received, either when you were starting out or more recently?
Worst: Some old man told me my material had to appeal to a mass audience, and “good” jokes are supposed to work everywhere. I disagree. Sometimes you get booked to do a show in the middle of central Illinois for a bunch of 60-year-old veterans, and they don’t know what astrology is. Does that mean your material about you being a Scorpio is bad? No! These guys just don’t know what’s going on.
I enjoy making what I personally like and writing jokes I find funny. People who resonate will find you, and then you’ll have a community of your people supporting you. I would much rather be authentic and appeal to 20 people who get me as opposed to doing something outside of myself in order to appeal to 100 people who don’t.
Best: This is more recent. A couple years ago, someone gave me this advice: “You should never be the best in the room. If you want to grow, you should surround yourself with people who are better than you.”
More From This Series
- 2023’s Comedians You Should Know Reflect on a Big Year
- Zach Zucker Dares to Say Comedy Is About Being Funny
- Sophie Zucker Is Sick of the Irony
- We Promise Zach Zimmerman Was Invited
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