CLASS CLOWN
Eddie B turns time as a Houston teacher into comedy gold mine. |
Eddie Brown, better known as Eddie B, can thank three things for his burgeoning comedy career: Instagram, preteen misbehavior and the undying gratitude of teachers across the country. It was just a couple of years ago when the fifth-grade teacher at Houston’s Varnett School East hit upon the idea of making videos where he rants about his experiences as a teacher. Brown, who had been moonlighting on the comedy circuit, made his first such video in the middle of a school day. “I edited it in class while I just gave my kids some busy work,” he says now with a laugh. “I shared it on Facebook and put it on Instagram. I was done by lunchtime.” He checked for feedback later in the day and had his usual “few thousand views.” But then his world changed overnight. “I woke up the next day, it was at 100,000,” he says in an interview at one of his favorite places, Pappasito’s off Loop 610. “I had to wipe my eyes … I’m looking at it throughout the day and it’s ballooning. By the end of the week, it had a million views. I’m like, ‘Man, that’s what they like? I’ve got 11 years’ worth of this.’ ” Today, after a series of such videos as “What Teachers Really Say About Students’ Names While Calling Roll,” “What Teachers Really Say About What They Get Paid,” and “What Texas Teachers Really Say About Hurricane Harvey,” Eddie B, 37, can headline large venues like Sugar Land’s 6,400-capacity Smart Financial Centre, which he plays March 12 as part of his Teachers Only Comedy Tour.
It seems teachers were thirsty for someone to reflect their struggles with low wages, stifling bureaucracy, budget cuts and difficult children, as well as their parents.
“I come to find there was a need among all teachers (for this),” he says. “I knew what my immediate circle was going through. I didn’t know it was across the country, all districts, states, the DOD (Department of Defense) teachers teaching our troops’ kids.”
The accidental teacher
If Brown fell into comedy stardom by accident, getting into teaching wasn’t part of the original plan either.
Born and raised in Houston’s South Park neighborhood, the former student at Fairchild Elementary, Addicks Middle School and Jones High School, originally wanted to play football. Failing that, he was interested in physical therapy — “something around athletics,” he says — and studied kinesiology at Texas A&M University-Kingsville and the University of Houston.
But he had trouble landing work after graduation and ended up in a series of odd jobs. Reluctantly, Brown decided to get a teaching certificate.
“I didn’t want to but (I thought), ‘I’ll coach,’ ” he says. “But the way it worked was, my first job was a science position at an alternative school. I needed a job … I wasn’t that good at first. I didn’t really care … but I started to like science. I loved to be around the kids from the jump. Once I started taking it seriously, it started changing for me. I started to become Mr. Brown as opposed to that dude who just gotta teach for a living.”
After sports, comedy was one of Brown’s favorite things, so when he wasn’t leading class discussions and doling out homework, he began performing at area comedy clubs.
“Teaching was my side hustle. Comedy was my job,” he says, noting that many teachers have to have more than one job to make ends meet. “To make the money I needed to make, I was in the comedy clubs.”
After a decade of juggling teaching (mostly at Houston’s Fonville Middle School) and comedy, he decided to make the move to Los Angeles to see if he could compete in the comedic big leagues.
“I had my son enrolled in school in LA. I had a going away show at the Improv,” he says, of the Houston club.
However, custody issues with his son stopped him from leaving. “I had a going away show but didn’t go nowhere,” he laughs. “I took a big leap and nothing happened.”
It wasn’t long after that he was inspired to make his teacher-themed videos.
“Teachers from everywhere were saying, ‘Bring the tour (to my town). We need it,’ ” Brown says. “They come up to me taking pictures, crying, out of air, like they ran into a celebrity. I tell them I’m a regular guy from South Park. They just want to express how much the videos mean to them.
“At the end of the show, I have a serious moment with them … . My point to teachers is we have to support each other because we are all we have.”
Making a choice
With his comedy career taking off, Brown had to make a decision: stay in school or take the stage?
“I continued to teach that year (after the videos took off) because I committed to do it,” he says. “People asked me, ‘Why are you still teaching?’ I committed to the students to finish and the lady who hired me … . It was rough, sometimes having to leave work on a Friday to catch a plane for a show Friday night.”
He couldn’t keep up that pace forever. Brown is now devoted to comedy full time, but that didn’t mean his final day of teaching last July wasn’t full of mixed emotions.
“It was sad,” he says. “I was happy to get out of there, but it was the last day with my kids, so it was tough. The principal asked me in class, ‘Are you coming back next year?’ I told them I won’t be able to but I will be here, and I do go back and volunteer and help out.”
He also visits schools across the country, talking to teachers about their problems. “My new commitment is to teachers,” he says. “All these teachers are happy, having a good time, and they’re going to take that back to their campuses. Happy teacher, happy classroom. I reach their kids through what’s going on with me.”
Staying in H-town
Brown is now in a financial position where he could finally make that move to Hollywood. If he wanted to.
“Houston is my home. I brag on Houston. I go to LA, do a show, and come right home,” he says. “I get homesick after the show.”
He’s reminded, though, of his recent struggles when he’s out and about.
“I went to an apartment and one of the ladies who recognizes me was a teacher and she’s an apartment manager on weekends. I had a teacher pick me up for an Uber ride who knew me from my videos,” he says. “I said, ‘Wow.’ I tipped as good as I could. It’s a damn shame, you (as a teacher) have got to drive Uber.”