Photo by Mindy Tucker
Lizz Winstead
Lizz Winstead isn’t the quiet type. The Daily Show co-creator/author/activist has staked her livelihood on being outspoken—in her comedy shows, her reproductive-rights crusades, and her everyday life. But when we caught her on the phone a few days after she received an award at the National Organization for Women’s annual conference (held in Bloomington in July), her trademark voice was nearly gone. “I think it’s from a lifetime of screaming into the void,” she said, hoarsely.
Her years of candor started right here in Minnesota. She grew up in a conservative Catholic family in south Minneapolis, graduated from Southwest High School, and got her comedy start at Minneapolis's Brave New Workshop in 1983. After working as a touring comedian through her 20s, she co-created (and became head writer of) The Daily Show in 1996. Since leaving the show in 1998, she penned a book (Lizz Free or Die), started Air American Radio, and found her way into activism.
And now, nearly a decade after her activism career began, that void she's been screaming into is starting to listen. Her NOW Woman of Impact award honors this work: In 2012, Winstead founded Abortion Access Front (formerly Lady Parts Justice League), an organization that provides factual information about abortion and reproductive rights to underserved communities (and the internet). In addition to performing USO-type quasi-comedy-show-fundraisers for clinics across the country, the Abortion AF website provides information and educational materials on abortion laws in every state. When we heard she was in town for the conference and a July show at the Cedar, we knew we had to learn more about the organization, her recent work, and her love for her home state.
How does it feel to be back in Minnesota?
It always feels good to be back in Minnesota. I try to spend August here every year. My 40th class reunion for Southwest High School is on August 10, so that’s going to be fun. And I have to be there for the State Fair, since I’ve only missed the Fair one time in my life. I’m hardcore.
How did you end up missing the Fair?
I went on a vacation to Morocco in 2000, and I chose to go in August, which was stupid, because it was like 130 degrees. But it was cheaper! So, I went on the trip of a lifetime, through the month of August and into September. And I missed the Fair! It was totally worth it.
What’s your favorite Fair food?
Oh, that’s a loaded question. I would have to say some unsung foods, like spaghetti and meatballs on a stick. People don’t talk about it enough, and it’s really great. They also have peaches from the state of Washington that are epic. Fresh fruit, weird, I know. I sound like a buzzkill. But it’s the best peach in the world. Like, Georgia, get in line and learn about peaches, because you are not owning it. The Pacific Northwest is owning the peach game, hard.
OK, you can keep your Minnesotan card. How do you think growing up here shaped your comedic career?
In a way you might not think. Minnesota is a place that doesn’t really suffer shitty people. You don’t get to be shitty here, because we’re nice. Minnesota is so righteous, and the way we constantly ask, “how can we make Minnesota better?” definitely formulated me. I think it was pretty bizarre, because I grew up in a strict Catholic family and was surrounded by Lutherans and progressive people that were not like my parents, who were Reagan Republicans. My dad always said, “I really messed up raising you, because I raised you to have an opinion, and I didn’t tell you it was supposed to be mine.”
You’re the founder of a reproductive-rights activism group, Abortion AF, and you’re very outspoken about your liberal political views. How did you go from that strict conservative family to the position you’re in now?
I think that if you’re a woman who’s walking the earth, you simply try to pursue your own destiny, despite every obstacle every step of the way. For example, when I was a kid, I wanted to be an altar boy and the church said, “Oh, no, we don’t allow that because it’s called ‘altar boy.’” And I thought that seemed like a fixable problem.
I couldn’t understand why the position couldn’t be executed by somebody who was also 13 and a girl. I mean, it’s not like we’re doing a barn raising, the chalice weights about a pound and a half, I could handle it. We’re all wearing unisex dresses. I tried to get a petition going at my school—my mom was so bummed out—and I got a bunch of people to sign it, but never heard back from the archdiocese. So my dreams were dashed, but now there are servers of all genders.
What does your family think of Abortion AF and your activism career?
My siblings were always on board with it, but my parents never were. I had an abortion when I was younger, I moved on with my life, it didn’t traumatize me. I was just happy I could have one and move on. It was very hard to have a mother who was super Catholic and was like, “please never talk about your abortion in public.” My stance was that I was the daughter I got to be for her, and we get to have this relationship, partially because of that. When my parents were growing old, for five years, I flew back to MN every six weeks and lived inside my parents’ retirement apartment with them, so my siblings could take a break from being caregivers—because that’s really hard. And I was able to do that because my lifestyle allows me to think for myself.
My mom and I navigated as best we could around it, and we had a great relationship. She had her way of handling it, which was hard, and I had my way of saying, we’re going to do all those things we love together, and we’re going to be in this relationship together. And if praying for me is what gave her solace and peace, I’ve gotta believe there’s a God that looks at our relationship and says, this is awesome. If she got it or not, I don’t know, but I know to the end the relationship was awesome. You navigate those things, but there are some things you can’t back down from.
How did you land on reproductive rights and abortion as your way into making a difference?
I’d gone through The Daily Show and Air American Radio, and we would often talk about every other issue, but never abortion. Back in 2010 I finished up my book and was figuring out what I should do next, and that’s when all those restrictive laws started coming down the pipeline, and we saw Wendy Davis taking on the laws in Texas, when clinics were closing at an alarming rate and it wasn’t getting news coverage. I didn’t see anyone asking, who’s my Wendy Davis, and who are the politicians who are cosigning on these laws? I decided to figure out how I could do that.
I want to have hard conversations and use my art to bring people into spaces where they can enjoy themselves and have conversations in spaces that bring joy and say, don’t feel bad if you aren’t educated on the laws, because nobody’s providing that information for you, but let’s have those conversations so we can all be better advocates and all understand that space so we can live in a world that’s equal.
What are your goals now that you’re almost 10 years into Abortion AF?
I think the goals are to keep expanding this movement. My needle doesn’t change. People ask if we’re preaching to the choir, and we’re not, because many progressives have no idea what’s happening in the reproductive rights and justice space. We need people to understand this issue as a human rights—and not just a women’s—issue.
First of all, on a practical level, not everyone who has a uterus identifies as a woman, so you’ve got right there trans men, and people who are gender non-conforming, and other people who need reproductive care, and it’s something we need to reiterate. But also, there are a lot of men who have benefitted from women having access to birth control and abortion. How many men have been able to pursue their dreams because women had birth control or decided it wasn’t the right time or this wasn’t the right relationship to start a family?
Men have benefitted constantly from access to birth control and abortion, and it’s time for men to stand up and say we are here to support and make space for people. These messages can sometimes be uncomfortable, but they’re really worth it.
Between activism and the growing awareness of the #MeToo movement in comedy, how do you stay sane in the current climate?
I think having an outlet makes me feel sane. If I were talking about this and people were saying, “we’re not interested,” I would feel defeated. But every time there’s a reframing of a conversation that people get to participate in, that keeps me going. When people want to gain information and get active, that’s really great. Humor is a good barometer of the hopefulness of a community. And if someone can organically laugh, they still have hope.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
