King of comedy: Fionnán McSwiney
Fionnán McSwiney wasn’t diagnosed with autism until he was 18. It hasn’t stopped the UCC student pursuing a career as a stand-up, writes .
When doctors told 18-year-old Fionnán McSwiney that he was suffering from high-functioning autism, he felt nothing short of pride.
“I felt proud of myself for getting so far in school having high-functioning autism,” he says.
Now, a 21-year-old stand-up comic in Cork, the young man says he has chosen comedy to inspire others to follow their dreams.
“Whether you have autism or anything else, as long as you’re willing to work hard for what you want, you shouldn’t let anything or anyone stop you,” he says.
Although Fionnán was diagnosed with dyspraxia — a developmental disorder which causes difficulty in activities demanding motion and coordination — at a very young age, his high-functioning autism remained undiagnosed for years.
Not getting a diagnosis, caused him to grow up experiencing numerous challenging situations.
At the age of nine, Fionnán was hit by a truck right after stepping out of his school bus, as his father across the street watched in horror.
“I could not focus on my left and right, only what was in front of me,” he says.
The accident left Fionnán with critical brain and pelvic injuries. However, he survived. At school, he was often bullied. One instance has stuck in his mind.
“I remember in primary school a teacher would spill my bag in front of other students and everyone would laugh at me,” he says.
Jennifer Dennehy, an occupational therapist in Cork with more than 20 years’ experience in working with autistic children, says not getting a diagnosis until later in life is quite common.

“Children with high-functioning autism are very bright and might perform very well in the junior cycle but as they enter the senior cycle and have to put more work into things often you see a great dropping,” she says.
High-functioning autism or Asperger’s Syndrome is used to describe individuals with an Autistic Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and normal intellectual functioning. Sufferers lack organisational skills and experience social difficulties.
Ms Dennehy thinks there shouldn’t be a significant problem in sending children with high-functioning autism to mainstream schools “so long as professional support is available within the school environment”.
“It is important for every teacher who works with the child to have a full understanding of how he is processing information,” she says.
“I learn in pictures. Even when I write, I think in pictures,” Fionnán says.
As high-functioning autism often remains undiagnosed, sufferers can go through school years feeling excluded.
“When I was at school a lot of my classmates would run away from me, and one day my mum was at a football match, and she saw that everyone was running away from me and I was trying to chase them, it really melted her heart,” Fionnán recalls.
However, he is determined not to let the past darken his future.
“If you got hit by a truck that means you always have to keep on trucking,” he says laughing.
A fluent Irish speaker and a third-year student of Social Sciences at University College Cork, Fionnán says doing stand-up comedy helps him avoid “down cycles” and boosts his performance in college.

“To be able to go into a room and make people laugh instead of just staying in my room not feeling very well that is my highlight of it,” he says.
How comedy gives minorities a voice is the subject of Fionnán’s final year dissertation. He is hoping that his thesis would open a dialogue about the significance of comedy within the academic world.
Fionnán thinks society is still mostly misinformed when it comes to autism.
“If you have autism you have to put on a mask because people tell you ‘oh you’re grand, what do you mean [you] have autism’,” he says.
“My head is very sensory. If I go to a nightclub and the music is too loud, I can’t handle it and I find it very hard to explain that to people.”
According to Ms Dennehy, individuals with high-functioning autism can have a unique sense of humour.
Fionnán’s sense of humour was known to everyone at school. His first comedy gig was his secondary school’s graduation ceremony.
“I was meant to sing a song for graduation, and I had the iPad, but I forgot the code for it, so I went off the cuff like my man [American entertainer] Andy Kaufman, and I started riffing on the vice-principal, and I got a standing ovation,” he says.
“You, my friend, stole the show,” his school principal told him afterwards.

Fionnán says Kaufman’s style of comedy is most similar to his own. Kaufman was a founder of the “anti-comedy” movement.
Followers try to deliver a deliberately unfunny comedy, which does not conform to audience’s expectation of satire.
Fionnán has done nearly 60 gigs so far including performances in Dublin and Galway.
His anti-comedy style does not go well with every crowd. One night, in Bray, he learned it the hard way.
“Not one person in the audience clapped so I had to clap for myself, but I didn’t let that affect me negatively,” he says. “Tommy Tiernan told me to keep at it.”
Fionnán is hoping to help young people in minority groups kick-start their comedy careers in the future, that is his plan for combining two things he loves the most: comedy and people.
Whatever the future may bring, one can be sure that Fionnán McSwiney will always keep on trucking.

