Last night I watched some special hosted by Russell Peters, that Indian comedian with the wasp name.

He’s quite funny! And I saw a commercial for his hockey movie called Breakaway that actually makes me want to go see it!

The special he was hosting was on comedy channel and for some reason last night I needed a laugh. (Actually it might have been because I was worried about my daughter, she was overdue.) Plus I was conflicted over some advice I received last week at the Scholastic Soiree.

By the end of the Russell Peters show, I started thinking that maybe I should try stand up.

Wait, wait. It’s not that crazy.

And in fact, it’s something other people have suggested. Including my husband!

And my husband’s opinion is one that I really trust!

A while back, we were watching some show and a commercial came on for Canada’s Got Talent. He said I should audition–as a comedian.

Ironically I chalked it up to a joke.

And in 2008 I went to receive an award from the Council for the Advancement of Muslim Professionals (C.A.M.P) . They gave me an Award of Excellence.

It was a gala event–everybody dressed up real pretty, and they even had two Muslim comics on hand to entertain the crowd.

Everybody I spoke to told me I was way funnier than the Muslim comics and said I should do stand up as well.

And then, a few nights ago, my hubby says again, “You should audition for Canada’s Got Talent. As a comedian.”

Yeah, tell me that right before I have to go to bed where I have to wake up early the next morning to a day full of presentations and see how well I sleep!

All night I dreamed in stand up!

And yet I woke up feeling quite refreshed.

Drove across town to Mississauga to do my ESL to Author presentation to 200 grade nine and ten students.

Some of the kids remembered seeing me before. When they were in elementary, but I wasn’t worried. They hadn’t seen this particular presentation.

That’s actually happened quite a bit. Where kids remember seeing me before.

I have developed presentations for basically every age group. (K-grade 3) (grade 4 – 6) (grade 7 – 12). What I vary is the amount of detail I go into in the presentations.

ESL to Author is definitely geared towards the older bunch.

It’s funny.

People think that kids are so jaded these days.

That you have to be ‘hip’ and ‘with it’ to relate to kids.

Uh uh.

What did worry me with the grade nines and tens was that there were so many of them, and they were so tall, sitting in their chairs in the cafeteria that they wouldn’t be able to see me properly.

I usually don’t like going up on stage. I find it ‘distances’ me too much from the audience, but under these circumstances I thought it best. 

I had a microphone so I didn’t have to strain my voice, and a podium, and except for the moment that I dropped my Waldo the Worm  manuscript and the pages scattered , the whole thing went off perfectly. Masha Allah.

The only thing I find is that by the time I get to the end and tell them the two things I really want them to take away from the presentation…that’s when some of them get a tad restless.

It happens every time! I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out why.

And I’m thinking maybe it’s because I warn them that this is what I want them to get from my presentation. That if they don’t remember anything else, they should remember this.

Maybe it sounds too much like a ‘lesson’. Maybe that’s why some of them tune out. Not all of them mind you. Not even most of them. But some of them, and it  bothers me.

True, I can still see most of their eyes are still fixed on me, listening intently. But some of them start whispering to their friends.

They don’t whisper when I’m relating incidents from my childhood!

And they definitely don’t whisper when I’m telling them the beginning of my novel Dahling if You Luv Me Would You Please Please Smile (that’s the book the presentation is based on).

They don’t even whisper when I talk about seeing the pictures when I’m reading!

You’d think of all the parts of my presentation–that’s when they’d get distracted.

Next time I do the presentation, I’m not going to announce at the end that this is where they need to pay attention.

I’m just going to tell them the two things I want them to remember and see how that works.

I mean the rest of the presentation has no hitches whatsoever!

It bugs me that for just an instant, I lose their absolute concentration–right there at the end.

But what no longer amazes me is how they always react when I get to the part about the suicide.

I’ve presented this presentation to the poshest rich kids in the swankiest private schools and I’ve presented this it to the scariest gangster types in the most disadvantaged schools.

Doesn’t matter.

They all get real antsy and look around at their peers to see who’s watching them when I start talking about the suicide.

And it’s because they’ve thought of it.

I was thinking of this when I realized that I shouldn’t do stand up after all.

Stand up comedy isn’t supposed to have serious elements to it.

I don’t think it’s supposed to make you think that much.

So I guess I’ll just stick to school visits.

The principal told me she heard the kids talking as they were leaving one of my presentations. They said I was ‘sick’.

That’s actually a good thing!

And this morning, one grade twelve student had begged the teacher librarian to be excused from her classes so she could hear my presentation. She’d read Wanting Mor and had loved it, and wanted to see me!

Sure makes me feel good!

And then, just an hour ago, I heard the good news. My daughter had the baby. A bouncing little boy she’s named Ibrahim (Abraham) Masha Allah. My fifthy grandchild!

Life is so good! Alhamdu lillah!