Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle have earned a reputation for mining the collective trauma of middle school. Over two seasons of their cringe comedy PEN15, the pair conjure a vision of early aughts adolescence that feels, as Erskine has put it in the past, like an âinterminable hell.â But somehow, itâs also cathartic and sweet and deeply, wonderfully, horribly, heartrendingly funnyâenough so that it received an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Comedy Series earlier this year. Konkle and Erskine first met in an experimental-theater workshop while studying abroad in Amsterdam, and have remained close friends ever since. Their bond endured the rest of their undergraduate years at NYU, a bicoastal stint when Konkle attempted to leave the entertainment world for good, and even their first creative collaborationâa Kickstarter-funded Web series called MANAâduring which Konkle took up residence on Erskineâs couch. (Thatâs how they met Sam Zvibleman, a writer and director on PEN15 and the inspiration behind the showâs âSamâ character.) They also, unexpectedly, became mothers mere months apart, during a worldwide pandemic no less, earlier this year.
Today, the pair have a steady stream of new projects on the horizon: among other things, Erskine will appear in the upcoming Obi-Wan Kenobi series on Disney Plus, and Konkle is completing a memoir. Sadly for the avid fans of PEN15, this likely means the showâs current season, now streaming on Hulu (called 2B), will likely be the last. During a recent stay at the Standard Hotel, the two shared a meal and chatted about middle school, the ups and downs of the popularity game, andâhead-trip warning for everyone who thinks of the 34-year-olds as forever 13âwhat itâs like to become a mother. âEVELINE CHAO
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MAYA ERSKINE: Okay, so going right for itâ
ANNA KONKLE: Do it.
ERSKINE: How old were you when you first masturbated? And what did you think when you heard of girls doing it, when we were 13?
KONKLE: I never heard of girls doing it. Ne-ver.
ERSKINE: At that age? Wow.
KONKLE: I think it has to do with the community we moved to outside of Boston that was predominantly Catholic. Sex was not talked about. I mean, guys would joke about jerking off, but the idea that girls were masturbating never crossed my mind.
ERSKINE: So you didnât even know it was a possibility that you could get pleasure from yourself?
KONKLE: I guess not. Actually, when I was in seventh grade, thatâs when the âIceboxâ rumor started, that I had masturbated with an ice cube. And really, in fifth or fourth grade, I played Truth or Dare and dared someone to put an ice cube in their underpants. And I was like, âIâll do it,â which is really weird and who I was and amâ
ERSKINE: I can so see that moment.
KONKLE: I know. I thought it was funny. But I never in my wildest dreams thought it was sexual or could be construed as something sexual because I was so not connected to that side of myself yet.
ERSKINE: Right.
KONKLE: So when it surfaced in this way in seventh grade, that was mortifying because not only was it not true, but I wasnât there yet. And the way that people perceived me going into high school, to be sexually somewhere I was notâI got a lot of attention for that, good and bad. Good as in, I liked getting attention from the older guys.
ERSKINE: Yeah.
KONKLE: But it was also sexualizing me when I wasnât ready. And I think that experience caused me to even vilify masturbating as a girl and woman more than I wouldâve naturally, because I was so ostracized by my fellow girls about it. They hated me. There were signs put up about me that said âslutâ with my picture and shit like that.
ERSKINE: Itâs crazy.
KONKLE: But I also remember getting so many IMs even before the Icebox, from guys asking if I masturbated. Anyway, I didnât masturbate until, I want to say like, 24. I had already had sex beforeâ
ERSKINE: That experience made you want to run away from it.
KONKLE: I think so. I know there was something about my own sexuality that I put bottom of the list. All I cared about was the person I was being sexual with feeling pleasure. It wasnât about myself until a long time later. And I didnât realize that I was repressing that.
ERSKINE: Itâs so funny because even though I did do that, originally, I also didnât give myself pleasure in my experiences with men. It was all about servicing the man and I didnât know how to connect the two.
KONKLE: How old were you and did you hear about it before you did it?
ERSKINE: I think I discovered it organically. It was an urge that I felt strongly.
KONKLE: Iâm jealous of that.
ERSKINE: It didnât feel great though. I felt a lot of shame for so long.
KONKLE: I know, thatâs our patriarchal society.
ERSKINE: I felt like a monster.
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KONKLE: Iâm so sorry that you went through that. But just discovering the physical urge naturally, Iâm sad that I didnât get that feeling.
ERSKINE: But you felt hints of it. Like as you watched Saved by the Bell, you would get a tingleâ
KONKLE: Yes, you know everything.
ERSKINE: What is Scituate like? Be brutally honestâlike if I went to your school in seventh grade. I find it fascinating that we grew up in such different places.
KONKLE: My school was predominantly white. Very Catholic, very preppy and WASPy. There were outliers, of course. I was relatively included at first in elementary school, and then very much ostracized. And then I figured out how to play the game, I think. There is a part of Scituate that was homophobic, and could be racist; unfortunately I saw that in our school. Itâs interesting because the âShadowâ episode that we did, with fetishizing Ume: I think I saw that happen in our school. So I think you wouldâve experienced racism.
ERSKINE: Blatant, not microaggressions?
KONKLE: I might be naive, but I think it wouldâve been microaggressions. Obviously this is horrible, but I think you wouldâve been both revered and fetishized.
ERSKINE: Remember how I looked, just want to spark your memoryâ
KONKLE: [Laughs] I donât know. If youâre alluding to nobody liking you, I think in my school, you wouldâve been sexualized in a way that is in our show.
ERSKINE: There were moments at my school similar to that actually. In my yearbook, being called Lucy Liu, like, âGive me those $5 hand-jobs.â And that was attention from a seventh-grader that was cool, so I thought, âGreat, heâs kind of sexualizing me, so maybe Iâm kind of hot.â Which is ⊠yeah. But he did it as a joke, to be like, âYouâre nothing even close.â
KONKLE: What do you mean?
ERSKINE: I mean, I was called ugly bitch by his friend, soâ
KONKLE: Ugh, I could kill him.
ERSKINE: I think heâs an actor now.
KONKLE: I do think we wouldâve been best friends in middle school though.
ERSKINE: I think so too.
KONKLE: Maybe Iâm naive, but I think I wouldâve recognized racism and been ride or die for you and wouldâve spoken out.
ERSKINE: I think you were able to straddle this line of fitting in while still having your unique sense of self there. Iâm curious about your sense of humor growing up in that town. When did you know you were funny?
KONKLE: I never thought of myself as funny. But I think it was part of my survival mechanism from when I was very, very young. My dad was very funny. My momâs funny in a different way, unintentionally. Which I also have. People will laugh and Iâm like, âWhatâs the joke?â
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ERSKINE: But then weâre all dying laughing around you because youâre being hilarious.
KONKLE: I have a weird part of myself that doesnât totally pick up on whatâs happening or whatâs funny. Or Iâll be on a different page when everyoneâs talking about somethingâ
ERSKINE: Thatâs what makes you so lovable. But thereâs also a side of you that is intentionally funny, and itâs irreverent funny.
KONKLE: Everyone would say that about you. But I donât think a lot of people would meet me and say that Iâm funny.
ERSKINE: No, youâre quirky. Quirky funny.
KONKLE: Quirky funny, there you go.
ERSKINE: Because you also let it come out. Iâm thinking of when we [first met] in Amsterdam. You were very goofy funny, and outgoing and not afraid. And I was inspired by that because I was scared to make any joke or do anything that might fail. But you donât have that fear.
KONKLE: Youâre right. Weâve talked about this, I grew up as an only child, so I had to put myself out there. I went on a cruise, and had to introduce myself to people or else Iâd be alone. Iâm just used to things failing and people not getting me.
ERSKINE: Thatâs why youâre so funny, because you will throw any idea that comes to you out there. And out of 20, thereâs one that no one in their goddamn right mind would ever come up with, and itâs the most genius idea.
KONKLE: Thatâs so cuckoo. I think Iâm just really used to being misunderstood and ⊠I think I have some learning differences, probably? Youâre laughing because itâs true.
ERSKINE: Iâm laughing because it was so genuine and emotional for a moment. And then youâre like, âI have some learning differences.â Itâs just a very funny way to put it.
KONKLE: I do because I would break story and everyone would be like, âWe have no idea what the board says.â
ERSKINE: Itâs like A Beautiful Mind.
KONKLE: Iâve always had trouble learning the way other people did. There was suffering there, but also stuff that I learned to embrace and appreciate. I think weâre both very visual. Iâll just see six scenes in my head really quickly, and have to get it outâ
ERSKINE: Which is why you write so fast.
KONKLE: Youâre the same way. You have a certain visual thing Iâve not seen replicated. First of all, you are a genius writerâ
ERSKINE: Weâre not going to go into compliments. But I appreciate that.
KONKLE: I mean, you set a very high bar, donât you think?
ERSKINE: Youâre asking me, do I know if I set a high bar? I canât think of myself that way.
KONKLE: Maybe itâs because you traveled so much when you were young, but every part of you is set at such a crazy high bar. And you raised the bar for PEN15, in a way that Iâm so grateful for, because Iâve learned so much from you. You had more experience in filmmaking also, and your brotherâs this amazing editor, and your dad is a very high-level musician, and your mom⊠youâre all very down-to-earth, kind, loving, funny, smart, but the bar is fucking high.
ERSKINE: Wow. Itâs so nice of you to say. It sparks a memory of being in theater, actually, and never feeling like we killed it. And kind of applying that to everything I did, sometimes to a negative degree. Itâs not that I canât be fulfilled, but itâs never like, âItâs great and itâs the best.â I have to keep trying to make it better and go further.
KONKLE: Why do you think you have that instinct?
ERSKINE: Because I think if it ever felt like, âGreat, I did it. That was amazing,â I would stop.
KONKLE: Thereâs a humility in everything.
ERSKINE: Yeah, from my momâs background. Japanese culture is definitely about underplaying everything, being modest about your accomplishments. So thatâs an aspect of it.
KONKLE: You are very self-deprecating, I have to say. Youâre not one to just take a compliment.
ERSKINE: But Iâve learned how recently.
KONKLE: Youâre much better now. Itâs a very endearing quality, but I also think itâs great when youâre like, âYes!â
ERSKINE: Whatâs interesting is that sometimes I have an insane amount of confidence and then the next day, itâs like crippling insecurity about the very same thing.
KONKLE: You are definitely an interesting dichotomy of those two things. Like, the questioningâ
ERSKINE: The questioning = is part of my process. I remember talking to a therapist and being like, âI have to stop being insecure.â And sheâs like, âWell maybe you doubting the things youâre doing every day is what creates the thing.â I donât want that to always be the case.
KONKLE: As long as itâs not torturing yourself, right?
ERSKINE: Right. I would like to experience the, âWow that was great.â But itâs more fun to experience, âWow that felt great.â Trying to focus on that as opposed to, was I good or not.
KONKLE: I aspire to that too. But itâs not easy. I think thatâs the way we line up also.
ERSKINE: The fact that Scituate is a fishermanâs village on the East Coast feels so exotic to me. I know there are downsides to having a small community where everyone knows everything about each other, but I grew up in L.A., so it was kind of vast. At one point I was going to move to the East Coast during middle school, and then it fell through.
KONKLE: I bet if you had, youâd like it. Or maybe it wouldâve been the mixed bag that most peopleâs middle school experience is. I felt more comfortable in Vermont, so it was a culture shock, because I was used to a bunch of hippies and we were Unitarian and there was a lack of diversity there. Vermont does not have a lot of diversity, butâ
ERSKINE: Well, even though I was in a big city, the school I went to had a lack of diversityâŠThis shrimpâŠ
KONKLE: You donât like it?
ERSKINE: No, I can taste, like, that tap waterâ
KONKLE: Oh no, thatâs not good. Donât eat that.
ERSKINE: No. But this French onion soup is so good.
KONKLE: Youâre right, it tastes like tap water. I weirdly like it, but I donât know whatâs wrong with me.
ERSKINE: Is it okay?
KONKLE: I think itâs fine. What age were you when you were the least popular? And were you aware when it happened?
ERSKINE: Seventh grade. That was where the shift happened.
KONKLE: Because you were cool before that.
ERSKINE: I wasnât cool, but I was with the cool girls.
KONKLE: So you were a version of cool. You have to own that. If you hung out with the cool people, you were a version of cool.
ERSKINE: Well it was a small school and we all were there since kindergarten. So I got along with a lot of people. And in sixth grade I clung very tightly to these girls and I was getting pushed away slowly, and I could not face that reality. So seventh grade felt like my most miserable, lowest point. I donât know if other people saw me as unhappy. I hid it.
KONKLE: Right. As we do.
ERSKINE: Kindergarten was probably my peak. Iâm not kidding.
KONKLE: Thatâs hilarious. I love that.
ERSKINE: In elementary school, I was a wildcat. I was so confident. I had not a care in the world. But middle school is where it started to change. I would raise my hand and get made fun of for what I was asking, or little things like that.
KONKLE: Fuck middle school. Brutal.
ERSKINE: And then tenth grade, I switched schools, and it was way more diverse and bigger, so it wasnât as stifling. So I had a rebirth. I know your most unpopular year was fourth or fifth grade. When was your peak?
KONKLE: Maybe senior year. Because youâre also the oldest. There was a culture in my school [where] the older girls bullied and threatened the younger girls. I remember how wrong it felt when I was a freshman. It was such a trope: The people that were bullied as freshmen were bullying the freshmen as seniors. That blew my mind.
ERSKINE: Why repeat the pattern?
KONKLE: I feel like people need to know about pumping. When you were directing the Yuki episode in our last season, you were breastfeeding when you came to set. Because I knew nothing about pumping, all those logistics.
ERSKINE: Not just that, the many rules about breast milk. How to store it, how long it lasts if the babyâs lips have touched the bottle⊠Also, I donât listen to the rules about how long it can stay fresh in the fridge before you freeze it. I have sometimes left breast milk in the fridge for six days.
KONKLE: Really?
ERSKINE: Should I not?
KONKLE: I donât fucking know.
ERSKINE: A doula would tell us about this, but I donât know.
KONKLE: I had no idea you have to pump every three hours. And trying to work while you do that? I just started pumping in front of all the men in the room all the time.
ERSKINE: Yeah, same.
KONKLE: I was like, âLook away, or not.â
ERSKINE: If we were in another country, we would probably get paid maternity leave. Here itâs like, âI donât want to hear about your period. I donât want to hear about your baby pain.â Iâm like, if men were bleeding from their buttholes once a month, for a weekâ
KONKLE: Oh, billboards everywhere.
ERSKINE: Thereâd be a national holiday every week for the, fucking, butthole bleeds.
KONKLE: And somehow the bleeding would be, like, marketed into the hottest thing thatâs ever happened.
ERSKINE: Thereâd be blood everywhere.
KONKLE: The older I get, the more I say âthe patriarchy.â You know itâs true because youâve been with me for three days.
ERSKINE: [Laughing] Agreed. Itâs so true.
KONKLE: Itâs just, the unmasking of it as I get older, its in places I never saw it before. I was so naive with my liberal self and my hippie parents, da-da-da. The male gaze.
ERSKINE: Oh, same. What are you most excited to do when you get a full break? You havenât had a break in years.
KONKLE: Thereâll never be a full break because I have a baby. Next.
ERSKINE: Does your life look like what you wanted it to when you were in college and when we fantasized about our futures?
KONKLE: My god. Beyond my expectations. What about you?
ERSKINE: Yeah. There are big dreams still. But when I think about what I thought I wanted and what Iâm actually experiencing, this is so much cooler. Not to be like, weâre living cool lives. Itâs just that your idea of what success or happiness is looks very different. Um, what would you do if your daughter said she wanted to be a writer and actor?
KONKLE: I would say, âI will support you, and Iâm proud of you, and I want you to experience a lot of different things.â
ERSKINE: Thatâs what Iâd do. Of course, inside Iâd be like, âThat will be hard but I canât protect you from everything. Maybe Iâm not going to set you up with an agent right away, but I would let you join theater. Learn to love it.â
KONKLE: One hundred percent. Love that.
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Special Thanks: Polaroid