My brother had a mustache, and when my brother had a mustache, it was cool. When I had a mustache, everyone just assumed I'm an immigrant and I don't speak English, which is fascinating. It was a fascinating thing to discover how I looked versus my brother with a mustache.

When you're a person of color in white America, you know white people. You know why you know white people? Because you can't enjoy any kind of entertainment if you are not able to humanize white people. If you watch a film and are like, "Oh, this has white people in it? Then I'm not interested," then you can't enjoy anything in America!

For years now, people have mentioned my mustache and get disappointed that when they see me live I don't have a mustache.

People always talk about the content, in terms of the politics of it or whatever social issues are in it, and it's like, "Yeah, but I'm also a good comic." You could at least talk about the form of it, and I feel like that's always the thing that's missed.

If I was just allowed to talk and handle the whole thing by myself without the audience interrupting with laughter, the show would be much more interesting. Think about all the time we waste by waiting for them to finish their noise, you know?

When I go to a bar or a party, I feel like a student invited me to the kegger, and I actually ended up going. And everyone's shocked: "Oh, my god, professor, I didn't know you were actually going to come!" That's me in any circle, really, especially when I hang out with my brother's friends.

I like playing with that space between laughter and discomfort where your discomfort can also make you laugh, and you're confused about the mixed feelings. That's challenging, and I think that's what makes for some of the best art.