‘What are you willing to sacrifice?’ The upshot for comedian Steph Tisdell

Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Steph Tisdell. The Yidinji stand-up comedian, actor and screenwriter, 31, is best known for her roles in Total Control, Bump and Love Is In the Air. Her debut book is the young-adult novel, The Skin I’m In.

Steph Tisdell: “Me, if I don’t pursue my dream and my passion, I’ll just wither away and die.”

MONEY

You were born in Mount Isa and grew up in Brisbane, the youngest of four. How was money growing up? Really good. I didn’t realise that until I got older. It was different for my older brothers, but when we moved to Brisbane it was better because my parents had a business. It was called Prime Pump and it made specialised engineering pumps for mines. My dad’s a bit of an expert, like a nutty professor – clever, switched-on and knows how things work. So I’ve been incredibly privileged, but also my parents were really, really good with money.

What kind of lessons did they impart? Oh, I’m actually terrible with money …

So you didn’t inherit money-management skills? No, I’m way too impulsive! And I’m a gift-giver. That’s my love language.

You studied law and journalism before getting into comedy. Why comedy? Financial security? F--- no! [Laughs] Comedy was kind of an accident and then it was like, “Oh, I think I might be good at this.” Whenever I do talks with kids – and even sometimes with adults – I often say that the one thing that I wished that somebody had said to me at school was that the choice isn’t about, “What do you want to do when you leave school?” The real question is, “What are you willing to sacrifice?”

What do you mean by that? There are really only two choices. Are you willing to sacrifice your dreams and passion for stability? Or are you willing to sacrifice stability for your dreams and your passion? Me, if I don’t pursue my dream and my passion, I’ll just wither away and die. Whereas my oldest brother was like, “I can do that as a hobby. I need to be safe and stable and secure, otherwise I’ll wither away and die.”

Your best and worst money decisions? I’m shocking! All my money goes on my [pet] birds and cigarettes. My best decision was buying a house.

Complete this sentence, money can’t buy you … [Thinks] Full stop. “Money can’t buy you.”

POLITICS

Were politics a motivation for you to pursue comedy? Very much so. I had a lot of privilege growing up, but also recognised the ways that the world just assumed I was downtrodden. I grew up in a really white suburb in Brisbane and a lot of my peers were white people who were ignorant but not necessarily badly intentioned. But I can talk like them and be this bridge because I’ve educated myself and because I’m proud of being from these people. So I’ve always walked this line where I could speak to white people about Black issues.

One of your on-stage jokes is, “The government treats blackfellas like a fine set of silverware: they lock it up.” How do audiences react? I want them to be shocked, almost winded. It’s funny because it’s true even though it’s a bleak observation. But you can’t argue against it. That’s why comedy is a great vehicle for politics: you say things that are really deep. People recognise it’s true and that allows them to see what needs to be changed. In saying all this, I’m very scared of this topic because to be an Indigenous woman with a profile, you don’t get to avoid politics. It’s inherently political to be any kind of person of colour – or a queer person – with a public profile in this country. You’re expected to be representative of everyone and there’s no nuance in lived experience.

Is it true you’ve considered running for office? I’ve thought about writing policy; I’ve thought about being a politician. I used to be really interested in that space: fighting for reform. Then I recognised that legal systems and government systems aren’t about justice. They’re about systems. Politics is never about the right decision: it’s about the easiest decision, the cheapest decision or what-looks-the-best-from-the-outside decision.

Were they your takeaways from Total Control? Pretty much! That show asked all of those questions: how do you keep your morals intact in a place that’s not about morals but systems?

What else does Australia get wrong? I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but when it comes to Indigenous issues, I think it’s got almost everything wrong. Australia makes a lot of decisions that fundamentally disempower people, that perpetuate marginalisation, poverty and addiction over and over and over again by issuing blanket laws and having policies around things that are incredibly nuanced.

What does Australia get right? Welfare. It doesn’t get it completely right, but the fact that we have access to welfare is fantastic.

RELIGION

What’s the last big thing you changed your mind about? What gender I dated! [Laughs]

What’s your personal version of heaven? Life without insecurity.

What’s your personal version of hell? Life with complete nothingness.

Do you have personal rules to live by? Leave something better off than you found it. Honour myself; honour my truth; honour my journey.

Any commandments for good comedy? Love your audience. They’ll love you back.

If you started a cult, what would be its main tenets? Stopping self-doubt. It would be a place where everyone goes, “I think you’re the best thing in the world” and people achieve everything they want because they’re being built up constantly.

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