My sophomore year at Susquehanna, we did a privilege walk in one of my classes. In a class of 30, I was the second farthest back. I kept joking with one of my friends who was a few steps in front of me and I told them later in reflections and anecdotes that I might've cried had I not made myself laugh.

I come back to comedy again and again because it didn't just make me forget about my problems, it made me feel better about them.

When I was in my freshman year of high school, I got into Bo Burnham, who became one of my favorite comedians of all time. Some of his songs were attractive based on pure wordplay – but others touched on deeply important topics.

All of Burnham's standup specials address serious issues he encountered in his career – in “Words Words Words,” Burnham played off of his belief that pursuing a career in entertainment was selfish and in “what.,” Burnham tackled the disconnect between his stage persona and his actual self.

In Burnham's most recent special, “Make Happy,” one of his last songs began with humorous anecdotes about food, but then derailed to talk about his mental health.

In the song, “Can't Handle This (Kanye Rant),” Burnham admits that he has imposter syndrome and confides that he isn't happy with his work, but he's worried about fan reaction if he doesn't appeal to his success.

Burnham is honest about his mental health and addresses the fact that he's always been open about his unhappiness, but incorporating it into his standup allowed it to be accepted by fans as a part of his persona.

The fact that Burnham was able to take a debilitating topic and address it through his work always stuck with me, especially as I grew older.

My first year in college, I joined the satirical paper, The Squirrel, and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world. I don't know if I thought that two and a half years later I'd be running it.

A year and a half ago, we geared up for the presidential election, knowing that every day there was something to talk about. It eased our stress to make fun of how absurd everything was.

The night after the election, we didn't know what to do. We scrapped nearly every piece we had been writing – none of us expected the outcome. We were still trying to wrap our heads around what had happened before we even tried to write anything.

And that was really when I believed in the power of comedy – not just as a joke or something to pass the time, but something that could make a difference.

Comedy wasn't solely to make people laugh - it was to make them feel less alone. The Onion's managing editor of content, Marnie Shure, said to the Guardian, “Our maxim is ‘afflict the comfortable, comfort the afflicted.’”

It became even more important that we weren't making the same jokes as everyone else and that what we were saying made a point.

In Vulture's interview with comedian Jen Kirkman, she argued that the increased absurdity in the media was not good for comedy, as many guessed: “Sure there’s jokes to make. Yeah, he’s orange. Ha, ha. You’re either going to get the same jokes over and over, or we’re going to be normalizing him by making really silly jokes about him.”

Kirkman’s view of comedy goes back to what made Burnham so successful throughout his career: instead of relying on cheap jokes, giving comedy depth is what allows it to last longer and connect more deeply.

Another piece from Vulture late last year argued that the whiplash effect created by the current administration’s mass of scandals was not what comedians needed, rather: “Comics actually don’t need more material. They need people to care about their material long enough for them to make their jokes better.”

Using comedy to comment on real issues both gives the audience relief in the form of laughter and in introspection, in seeing a new light on the situation that wasn’t given before. Taking away the second aspect makes for a quick laugh, but does nothing to seriously influence the state of affairs.

In a monologue given on election night once the results were nearly definite, comedian Stephen Colbert reflected on moving forward in the current state of the country. Addressing the audience, Colbert said: “In the face of something that might strike you as horrible, I think laughter is the best medicine. You cannot laugh and be afraid at the same time, and the devil cannot stand mockery.”

20 years in and I completely agree – I take most things seriously, but keeping myself alive was and is directly linked to the joy I can find in life. Using comedy to make the most of something bad – both in the commentary, execution and punchline – is lifesaving. I can only hope the people I share that with feel the same way.