As a kid in Houston, comic Ali Siddiq's father was largely absent. But there's one parenting moment that Saddiq tells onstage with great detail. Ten-year-old Siddiq had a sore tooth, and his dad pulled a Cool Whip tub from the fridge — where he stashed his cocaine — and applied some to his son's tooth.
"My dad was insane," Siddiq laughs. When he first told the story onstage, his father was in the audience. "[After] he was like, 'I can't believe you remember that!'"
He wasn't a perfect father — and yet Siddiq always admired him. He pays homage to his dad, who died in 2018, in his new special, My Father.
It's the latest in more than a dozen specials Siddiq has released on YouTube. He remembers that his dad would watch all of his shows on a computer in the library: "And [he] would call and tell me, ... 'I watched about 10, 15 times.' So I'm always missing those 10 or 15 views that I know that I would get from him," Siddiq says.
For Siddiq, who served six years in a Texas prison for selling drugs before turning his life around, comedy and storytelling have always been a source of healing.
"I think that's the biggest part of it, that I take the stories and me reliving them in front of people or revisiting them in front of people is a lot healing," he says.
Interview highlights
On the regret he feels about selling drugs
I remember I was in San Francisco, the homeless population is so crazy. ... And I just stopped in the streets and I just started sobbing. And I remembered saying, "How much of this is my fault?" Because I have been so destructive and reckless in my behavior. Obviously this is not the first generation. This is the generation that was affected by the first generation of what I did. Like, you can't conceive the magnitude of destruction that you do when you sell drugs in a community. It's people doing things that they would probably never do in order [to get drugs]. [It's] ruining relationships. What child didn't get fed because their mom or their father decided to do this? What uncle or aunt stole something ... like, what did I do?
On the fact that he still remembers his inmate number, or "spin" number as he calls it
I think that these psychological wounds are different than my physical wounds. My physical wounds start to fade. Why haven't these wounds faded yet?Ali Siddiq
You do not get out of this situation unscathed. You may have survived it, but you still have wounds. I've been out 29 years at this point. Even if I'm at home by myself, I'ma lock the bedroom door [and] I still know this number. ... You may survive, but you don't get out unscathed. You gonna lose some skin in this game. And I think that these psychological wounds are different than my physical wounds. My physical wounds start to fade. Why haven't these wounds faded yet?
On how his imprisonment impacted his family
My mom, even though she wasn't physically there, she's there in mind. Like, when you're inside, your sister is concerned, your mother is concerned. Your dad is concerned your grandmother is concerned. It is all of these people that's concerned about you because you're in a position of danger. You're in a dangerous place and there's no guarantee that you will make it out of this place.
On getting his start in standup
When I started doing standup, I actually didn't even know how to even start. ... I literally started from a place of zero. Like I had zero information on how to become a comic, zero information of where to go. ... I was at scratch. … I remember when I first got my first payment, it was $35 and it was in like fives and ones. And I thought it was a lot of money. I was like, boy, I came up.
On raising his own son differently than he was raised
I love the way that he lives. I applaud him and I just hope that he comes out on the other side and loves being a kid and then gives his children the opportunity to be a kid, and always have a softness for me. I need somebody to roll me around when I get old. So hopefully, hopefully he's there taking me to go eat oysters and asking me, Do I want to go to a Boney James concert? or something. I just love him. I just loved the softness of his life.
Lauren Krenzel and Susan Nyakundi produced and edited this interview for broadcast. Bridget Bentz, Molly Seavy-Nesper and Luis Clemens adapted it for the web.
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