Gina Brillon: The Loss of My Grandmother Pushed Me to Pursue Comedy

Gina Brillon is a Puerto Rican actress, stand-up comedian, writer, and mom born and raised in the Bronx. In 2012, she became the first and only Latina winner of NBC's Stand Up for Diversity Showcase. She went on to release comedy specials on NuvoTV, HBO, and Amazon Prime. She has appeared on "The View," "Late Night With Seth Meyers," and "Jimmy Kimmel Live," and was the first Latina comedian to be a finalist in season 16 of "America's Got Talent." For Mental Health Awareness Month, we asked Latine comedians and creators we admire how comedy has supported them in overcoming trauma and confronting life's most significant challenges. Read the pieces here. We don't talk enough about the healing powers of humor. The old saying, "laughter is the best medicine," as cliché as it may be, actually has a lot of truth to it. I learned about the power of laughter at a relatively young age. In Latino families, we often use humor to heal from traumas and hardships. It helps us get through so much. At home, we made jokes about everything from the government, cheese we ate, to the broke, kid games we played. I greatly touched on this in my Amazon Prime special, "The Floor is Lava." Related: Mental Health Is Complicated For APIA Folks. Let's Talk About It. My childhood was good but came with its fair share of struggles. Money troubles were real, and I remember us being on food stamps at one point. We had our challenging times, but we somehow always managed to find opportunities to laugh about it. It was one of those, "if you don't laugh, you'll cry" type situations. But it wasn't until I lost my grandmother that I realized the momentary relief a good laugh can bring, even in the face of loss and grief. I say this all the time, but my grandmother is the entire reason why I decided to pursue a career as a stand-up comedian. I was probably around the age of 8 or 9 when I realized I had a gift for making people laugh. It was also around that age that it really hit me how healing laughter could be. Once I realized I could make someone laugh, it became a mission to make those around me laugh because I loved the joy I got out of it. My grandmother was the first grown-up in the family who noticed I was funny. She would tell my mom things like, "Your daughter is talented. She's going to be on TV one day," and I slowly started to believe her. For a while, I kept the jokes for the family. I was this crazy, funny kid at home, but I was much more reserved whenever I was in public. As a kid, I was self-conscious because I was the chubby, funny girl. So, if I didn't know you like that, I wouldn't attempt to make you laugh because I was already too insecure. In fact, peers and schoolmates who knew me growing up were surprised when I became a stand-up comedian. They always thought I was funny, but they also thought I was shy because I was growing up. I was never the class clown. But I was the kid who was always quick with a joke. If I saw a joke somewhere, I would say it quickly before anyone else could say it first. My grandma was probably one of the toughest women I've ever met - to this day. This was my grandma on my maternal side. She lived with us and passed away when I was 16, but a large chunk of my childhood was spent around this woman whom I absolutely adored. She came to New York from Puerto Rico and never really learned English like that, but the English she managed to learn was from watching "I Love Lucy." That's when I started understanding how much my grandma appreciated comedic relief. Once I learned that, I made it a point always to crack her up. My grandmother wasn't an easy woman to make laugh. She was tough, and she was serious. She also hated pranks. But she loved silliness. Something about silliness allowed her to soften and fully bring down her guard - regardless of what she was going through at the time. I started to study her sense of humor and provided her with the silliness I knew she enjoyed. When my grandmother laughed, she laughed with her entire being. She exuded absolute joy - it brought out another side of her that I appreciated at a young age. That became our biggest way of connecting - making her laugh. But when I was around 11, my grandmother's health began to decline. She would get cuts and bruises randomly. She started experiencing body aches more often. I knew she wasn't the same when I started noticing my mom had to shower her daily. That was hard for me because I grew up seeing this strong woman who never wanted to be a burden finding herself in such a vulnerable place. I almost didn't know how to connect with her anymore. My siblings were quick to help in taking care of her physically, but I was never comfortable doing that. It was hard for me to witness her at her weakest. During that time, I realized that the best medicine I had to offer her was laughter. On her hardest day