Meet Luc Ashley

Today we’d like to introduce you to Luc Ashley.

Luc, please share your story with us. How did you get to where you are today?
It started early for me, around a ripe age of five or six. I grew up with very limited resources (that’s my way of saying poor without saying poor) and interestingly enough while we were minimalists (another word for poor) we had television and an affordable HBO package. I would hear my mother’s TV in the other room and I’d lie in bed, and I just thought, “Whatever she’s watching, people are cracking up.” So one night, I begged to stay up with her to see what was so funny, and it was The Tracey Ullman Show, Larry Sanders Show and The Kids in the Hall. It took a second for me to understand what I was watching but I just paid attention to the laugh cues and was like, “so that’s what’s so funny.” Not to mention I was intrigued by the sketch comedy format, plus Larry Sanders show was about a guy hosting a show on a show. I immediately altered my bedtime schedule so I could watch these shows. Now, not for anything these were white people performing, material that was at best understood by there peers. I wasn’t white, I definitely thought I was–as my family loves to remind me–but that’s purely because I assumed white was a personality or a perceived attitude, not a race or skin tone. That doesn’t help my case, I know, but I grew up in Terre Haute, Indiana it’s a place you really only hear about if you have to drive through it or on an episode of Parks & Rec.

So, naturally, TV was my compatriate. Over the next few years, I discovered Def Comedy Jam and The Chris Rock Show (late night). Now, this is where I saw blacks in a more urban setting navigating the late-night lineup on HBO. Tracey’s show had ended, which allowed me to find stand-up comedy. It was the greatest yet; it was electric and contagious and so provocative. Def Comedy Jam came on late and my mother was growing stricter, probably because the content was for adults and probably because I had run out of VHS tapes and all that was left was my parents’ wedding. She was mad, but when they divorced, she gave me the tape back. What? She didn’t need it.

Soon, Tracey Ullman had another show, Tracey Takes On, and it was still invigorating. She had gotten better, funnier. I was like, “This bitch, this bitch right here is good!” And I just wanted to be her. I went to school with prepared bits, excited to entertain my classmates, my teachers, even the lunch ladies which resulted in getting the larger pizza or warmer sandwich. There was definitely a fan base–small, but they existed.

Years later, I had a revelation, especially as I have had to encourage my children and share my days of schooling, I realized I was simply at school to perform and offer a service. It was like I was the resident comedian I just didn’t get paid. I didn’t get good grades for it, either. Don’t get me wrong, I was a speller. I never liked homework–hence the term, I felt like school should stay at school. I could never focus on studying, too boring; but for a short stint I had a knack for the spelling bee and was beating out highschoolers in elementary. It’s in the newspaper, so there’s proof. I just, again, never studied that Scripps book they gave us and so I’d happily lose to a group of really good kids. The craziest part was that they couldn’t understand how I had made it. I could read their faces at the competitions. Plus, I didn’t have major accolades or a big introduction when I’d make it into these crazy rounds, and the kids and probably their parents were confused how this black girl, a C student, made it on stage with them.

Yes, I know, C student. Maybe low B, mid C. I mean I’ve had my share of Ds and the rare F, but if you were to read the comment sections from my report cards from elementary all the way through high school, they would reflect a very social student but not a studious one. I’d get a C in just about everything and my mother was often confused because teachers would mark “Pleasure to have in class” and “We all adore her” but then I was barely passing or mediocre, at best. My mother was like, “What are you doing?” Clearly, not homework, but I was well-liked. Which became a demon later on, but I had found this to be my calling, entertainment.

The likeability factor started to rise when my friend’s parents were enjoying me more than their own children, and then boys noticed, and that’s when I was like, “Ooh, boys!” but I had a goal: don’t be the standard h*e amongst friends, ya know? Like, I would like the boys, but from my observations, I found boys liked the girls, truly liked the girls that were well-groomed, smart and teacher’s pets. Not the goofy ones. No one wanted a goofy girlfriend, at least not where I was. Goofy wasn’t pretty, memorable when good, but definitely not attractive. And my friends were getting boobs and boyfriends and I was a tad behind, and by middle school, I had to keep the silly, funny version of me on this sort of schedule so that I wasn’t exposed to my crushes. That lasted a few months and fizzled out as soon as In Living Color surfaced. Especially Jim Carrey–I was done. He was my goal. The level of funny he went to, how he delved into those characters and never cracked was the key. And so I’d do characters for my family, mocking and imitating them as well, and whenever I dropped character, they became bored and would remind me to do chores, but when I stuck with it, they laughed–and still reminded me of my chores.

I remember I got in trouble on cheerleading camp for dressing up like Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura when he and Courtney Cox visited the asylum. My coach was one of the head cheerleaders so her mother was our chaperone and they were livid with me for being so silly and disgusting–I think I put my underwear on the outside of my clothes. Guess that’s what happens when you commit, right?

Eventually, I found an outlet, theater. We had moved to a bigger city because my dad bought a company where he did stained glass and construction (cough: and had a second family). We moved when I was thirteen, and within a year, my parents split, my grandmother died and we were poor again. Sorry, I can’t find another word. I’m all out.

By high school, I was singing and doing small productions with a local theater. The problem with this new town is there were more blacks than I had grown up with and there were blacks holding office and running more businesses and culture was in full effect. It was actually great, intimidating at first, but I loved the community and seeing other kids like me. No more white girls to compete with, hello black girls–no easy feat (insert Kamala Harris meme here).

I continued on with theater and met my husband there. I won’t mention him too much, people tend to like him more than me. Trust. When you tell jokes for a living you often find yourself asking, “too soon?” well, yes, too soon. And telling jokes comes in so many forms. Like with Tracey Ullman it was sketch comedy, which is what eventually took me to Upright Citizens Brigade years ago in NY and now in LA. I studied improvisation and sketch writing and later found The Ruby, another school that educates funny people and provides a platform for them to perform. Improvisation is by far the best drug. You want mind-blowing? You want “Yes, and…” you gotta study improv. It will unveil thoughts, ideas, roads and levels you never thought you’d go and it’s a great tool in this industry. I had always wished it were that easy with stand up, but that is only fine-tuned by how much you are getting up, which is a great segue… I didn’t really start doing stand up until about ten years ago. I feel like I haven’t made many strides in my career when I hear that number, but having started in the midwest, then moved to New York only to move to LA to pursue writing I have to give credit where it is due, and I learned so much about myself through stand up. New York, I found to be the most supportive for me in stand up. LA, meh, not so much. But you put on your big girl panties and keep moving. Plus, you tend to find other doors will open (and close) and for me those doors have been in television writing, screenwriting, and more recently book writing.

Penning a book was always the plan, but it came at such an unexpected time in my life (as did a pandemic) and is essentially where I am second-most comfortable. Acting gets first place, entertainment is just a default muscle, it’s how I’m wired. Blame God, if anyone. Plus, I no longer have to hide my goofy, raw comedic ways, I’m married and it’s too much work trying to hide my sillies from him all the time.

We’re always bombarded by how great it is to pursue your passion, etc – but we’ve spoken with enough people to know that it’s not always easy. Overall, would you say things have been easy for you?
Smooth road? I’m laughing. Can you tell? Wait… Okay. I’m done.

Uh, did I mention my parents had a more ‘narrow means’ of living? Aha! Got one. It got a little better for a while, only to get worse when my parents split. Not because money changed, but my father’s lifestyle came to the surface and his health started to deteriorate here and strained our relationship heavily. Plus, he was not a faithful man to the many, many women he kept and unfortunately, I recently lost my dad. Too recent, actually. While he could’ve been a more loving father, I think when I finally stopped blaming my parents, I realized that not only was I too old, but I had kids and was for damn sure not going to be at the other end of their finger when they came pointing. That said, I loved my father, his ways not so much. And that’s been the biggest take away from that loss.

Having hosted a stand-up comedy show, Laugh After Dark, for two seasons was a learning experience on all fronts. Not getting that Saturday Night Live audition–not part, but audition–let me be clear, was one for the books. I think when I created the dream to be on SNL, one from afar by the way, it’s like seeing your roadmap from the starting point. First, you don’t quite know how long the travel will be based on a physical map, you just see two points; but second, as you start to make some stride and then you get up on it and start to get close to it, you’re like, “Is this what I wanted? No. Can’t be,” and you just discover and adapt in the meantime and then reassess. It’s not fun or easy, but that’s why this is not for the light-hearted. Would I even want it if it was? Probably not. There’s a ton of times I’ve met people who wanted to be my friend or part of my circle because they sense they could project my potential. Boo, sit down. I can’t do fake. Never could. I love when the elephant is in the room because I bring the whole damn zoo. Zebras?! Come on in. Giraffes, duck down and get in here–speaking of ducks, yeah, bring all your breeds and let’s get it started. Like, why avoid? Ugh. I hate wasting time, it’s about moving forward.

This might contradict my last line, but I recently started keeping a list of the doors that have been shut, just since I’ve lived in Los Angeles, a mere six years. I’ve gotten to about sixty–guess ten a year. I heard someone got to over a hundred before their big break and they were grateful for every door that shut in front of them. So. there’s comfort –but what qualifies as made it? Plus, it’s not an easy list to keep. You have to really sit and think about all the times you were not chosen, not picked, looked past, hurt, lied to, disregarded, neglected, let down, forgotten and unloved…in reference to the efforts and hustle your making in your career. And that’s just what others have done to you, you have to take into consideration what are the doors you didn’t keep open because of poor choices, poor words, or poor relationships. I’m not trying to get Iyanla (Vanzant) on you, but this is where I am right now; and I hate wallowing in pity. I did that. All my little whack boyfriends that hurt me, I’d turn up some Luther Vandross or Gereld Levert–no one young in the 90s had better breakup songs than these two, plus my parents had these CDs on hand– and I played them out. I mean, it was on loop for hours. Talk about crying, and it was an ugly cry too. So, I’m all cried out (another song I played).

So, yeah, with my dad gone and the world’s current mess, raising four daughters, and this damn keto diet that doesn’t want to stick, it is enough to cry about, but why? What does that do for me? Puffy eyes and a lot of snot, like a lot, a lot. Where does snot come from? I’m trying to figure out.

I have a really bad habit of turning something awful into trying to find this hilarious silver lining. Like the time I fell in the Ralph’s Parking Lot rushing last minute for my daughter’s birthday party. I remember how I felt when I hit the pavement and then I was like, “If they have a camera outside the store now but didn’t have one when someone broke into my car, I should get free groceries for a year.” It was a devastating experience. Falling as an adult was injured to my self-esteem most. From the cart boy to the many random cars that drove up to my rescue, my confidence went from 89 that day to a 43.

So many, too many challenges on this road, but the biggest hurdle was accepting me for me. Trying to please people is hard because you’re trying to please too many at once. It’s like that video game where you have to get everyone’s restaurant order done in time. I always fail. So letting me be me was a struggle because there have been moments that I didn’t think I could fully expose my greatness. Gosh, I wish I could insert a song here somewhere! Elsa’s “Show Yourself” is my theme song right now. She gets it. From one super powerhouse to another, these gifts can be too much, ya know? Well, you may not know.

We’d love to hear more about Urban Genius Entertainment.
At Urban Genius Entertainment, we are creators, storytellers and visionaries. I am a writer/performer with no one particular specialty but on many of our projects, I have served as performer, producer and writer.

Having contributed mainly in UG’s comedies, from sketch to stand-up, recently, our team has started to take on documentaries and more drama projects. Many of those stories focus on other’s lives and impact in our society and what they learned along the way.

With the tone of America today, and the many young lives that are influenced in ways that are fleeting and flimsy, I am proud to be part of a company that uses their voice to shed a positive light and encourage many despite the hard times that might surround them, as well as educate and perhaps create conversations that lend to respect discovery and love–which I think is what will continue to set us apart from other platforms. I strive to be a part of the solution, furthermore be part of the example that Hollywood is promising in regards to inclusion, multi-cultural awareness and telling stories that will move people of all races forward.

So, what’s next? Any big plans?
I’m writing a series of comedy books and essays. The first I already mentioned, “Eve, We Need to Talk” is a fantasized novel that meets a woman in Heaven after she has died who is eager to take down Eve. I love writing in this medium, it’s by far been a great tool and release during the current climate.

I also wrote on a show that will air at the end of the year on Hulu, while lately I have been writing and developing my stand-up special slated for 2021 release.

I’m excited to share my crazy inner thoughts with readers in my book series, which is probably why I was drawn towards stand up. It’s a place where the oddities and quirks can live and function without a lot of judgment because audiences have seen the brilliant minds behind stand up share realities that only comedians can conjure up. So much is relatable, and comedians have a surefire way of tapping into that mental space of denial and frustration with their followers. People feel relieved when they realize they’re not the only one with a crazy ex, a dysfunctional relative, or a weird obsession with chicken sandwiches.

There’s definitely a lot more I plan to pursue. I’m always looking forward and have a little bit of ambition saddled with a lot of hope. I don’t think it’s an equal, fair amount but it’s gotten me this far.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.lucashley.com
• Email: [email protected]
• Instagram: luc.ashley

Image Credit:
Kendall Christianson, Jonathan Ward

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