I Was 'Canceled' for a Joke

On June 5, a comedy club posted a clip from a show I had done in which I depicted Malaysia as the ex who broke up with Singapore—the country I grew up in—and Singapore was now having a "glow-up".

The clip was performing very well, but when I posted the same one on my social media on Tuesday morning, things started to take a nasty turn.

I first saw someone sharing my clip in an Instagram story—the words were in Malay which I didn't understand, but ended with a "wow!" Funnily enough, thinking it was a compliment, I reposted the story. However as negative story shares and comments rapidly piled up, I soon realized that "wow!" had not been meant as a compliment.

By Tuesday night, I was getting calls, messages, and emails from Malaysians cursing me out, issuing threats, and demanding an apology for my "offensive" joke. Queries from media outlets in Asia were starting to pour in.

My Google alerts that notified me whenever my name appeared in the news, a bi-annual occurrence at best, were going off like a popcorn machine.

I knew what I had to do. I am not like some comedians who can just ignore or block nasty comments. I used to be a lawyer, and in the face of a verbal attack, the lawyer in me will rear her argumentative head and engage in battle.

With this kind of massive onslaught, however, engagement would have been both futile and emotionally destroying. Instead, it was time to play defense.

I switched the settings of my social media to limit the comments and messages I could get. I deactivated the two platforms I was barely active on—why give the haters extra repositories for their bile? I turned on an auto-responder for the email address that I was getting unwanted emails on and paused the inbox. I blocked all calls from a Malaysian number. I turned off Google Alerts for my name and did not read anything being written about me.

That night, I barely slept and woke up the next day to a call from the comedy club. I was informed that due to the review bombs they were getting—which eventually amounted to 4,000 1-star reviews—they had taken down the video. They requested that I take the video down too, which had their logo on it, and sent me a video without their logo that I could post if I wish.

So the club had taken down the video. If I reposted it, it would be just me against an angry nation of 33 million people.

The harassment had also intensified. Multiple attempts were made to hack my socials, my personal information was exposed, the comedy club's website was hacked, and every venue I had ever worked at was review-bombed and threatened with strong-arming them into not working with me.

IBM called to cancel me for a series of broadcasts I have done for their American and European offices every quarter for the past 2 years because their Malaysian office was unhappy with my joke. A New York comedy club told me that I could no longer be on a show I was previously booked for.

A full-on war was being waged against my mental health and my livelihood. People advised me to just apologize, saying: "Dave Chappelle can afford to not apologize, you can't."

Yet instead of folding, the ferociousness of the attack made me more determined to stand firm. I was the latest example in a wave of physical or cyber violence being exacted upon comedians for simply doing our jobs, and I was tired of it.

Chris Rock took a punch, Dave Chappelle was attacked, Hasan Minaj received an Anthrax scare, Singaporean comedians had faced condemnation and calls for their arrest by Malaysians, a Malaysian comedian was arrested and is going to be standing trial over a joke, and the list goes on.

Even though I was just one person, I still wanted to take a stand. A stand for myself, my art, my fellow comedians, and for the freedom of speech, especially in a comedic context with no malice involved.

A stand against bullying, the imposition of another country's values on an American acting on American soil, and a cancel culture that I think has reached unjust proportions.

Airing out criticism and making jokes at a comedian's expense was one thing. I even laughed at some of the jokes about me. However, seeking to disable us from continuing to make a living and threatening or worse, exacting violence against us and our loved ones is something that needs to stop.

So I chose to repost the video. I wanted to send my haters the message that I was not going to be bullied into backing down. I also posted humorous stories about my situation, to let them know that there is one thing they cannot cancel—my sense of humor.

The mob went into a tizzy, and managed to get Instagram to take down my account, and TikTok to remove the video. On June 13, it was reported that Malaysian police were calling for my arrest, and had even requested assistance from Interpol.

Ironically, this escalation on the side of Malaysia—to be clear, I am not referring to all the people of Malaysia, just the faction trying to take me down—served as the turning point for me.

Because major news outlets such as CNN, CBS, and the BBC broke the Interpol story, more people started to catch wind of the situation and began rallying to my side. I heard about some American comedians who had been defending me on Twitter, which I had deactivated.

Once I reactivated it and started posting quips about my situation like "the only other comedian more under fire than I am right now is Volodymyr Zelenskyy," more supporters came forth, and they started fighting back at my trolls.

The "cancellation" stopped at IBM and the one New York comedy club. Other comedy clubs I worked with, especially the one that had posted my video, and clubs as far as Europe and Asia, had my back and expressed support, and more bookings came in. Fox News invited me to be a panelist on a comedy segment. Radio and podcast hosts sympathetic to my predicament asked me to be on their show, and articles were written in support of me.

Given the media attention, some have suggested that this debacle will "blow up" my career. I do not know about that.

What I do know is that I took a stand for what I believe is right, and as difficult as it was, it didn't destroy me. Instead, it has brought out a strength in me I never knew I had.

What I do know, is that I took a stand for something bigger than me, and others rose to stand with me. And finally, what I do know, is that I am no longer in this fight alone.

Jocelyn Chia is a comedian based in New York City. You can follow her on her newly reinstated Instagram @chiacomedy, and watch the offending video on her YouTube.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

Do you have a unique experience or personal story to share? Email the My Turn team at myturn@newsweek.com.

Updated, 7/4/23, 06:00 a.m. ET: This essay was updated for clarity.