Cerrome Russell has lived around the world. Now he’s finding his voice in Maryland.

It’s a winding road from growing up in Georgia raising hogs and farming corn and watermelon to becoming a steady presence in the D.C. region’s stand-up comedy scene.

But Cerrome Russell has walked it.

The Fort Washington resident has made a lot of stops from there to here. He enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps in 1998 and was stationed in Germany and Turkey. That’s when he got the itch to grab a microphone after watching comedians perform on a USO tour — coupled with an obsession over Bernie Mac’s routine in 2000’s “The Original Kings of Comedy.”

When he finished his time as an avionics technician shortly after the start of the Iraq War, Russell, 46, bounced around North Carolina, Missouri and Florida. He would perform on sleepy bar stages or alongside poetry readings. These eclectic audiences helped him develop the voice that he showcased in “Son of Sumter,” Russell’s hourlong debut special available on streaming platforms.

“I’m your country cousin that you go visit in the summer,” Russell said during a recent lunch. “Like your elder cousin or uncle, who’s been through some things and just trying to relay his experiences in a funny way.”

The special’s title refers to Sumter County, Georgia, a rural region of the state where Russell grew up. He was mostly raised by his grandfather, who had him and his two sisters helping on the family’s farm. Russell, like so many comedians, struggled to find his place in his childhood and made jokes to endear himself to classmates.

“I wasn’t necessarily the class clown because I think a lot of people forget that when you the class clown, you also have to be well liked and cool,” Russell said.

Developing his voice

Russell vividly remembers his first performance for his fellow Marines at Ramstein Air Base in Germany.

It didn’t go as he planned.

“I bombed for a good seven minutes because I didn’t know how to read the time and get off stage,” Russell said. “The funniest part is that I didn’t know how to go backstage, so I hopped off the front of the stage and walked through the audience. And a lady patted me on my shoulder like, ‘It’s OK, baby.’”

When he got back to the U.S., his urge to perform remained strong, but the towns where he lived didn’t always have stages, so he started telling jokes at a North Carolina Mexican restaurant. “I did a show at the bar,” Russell said. “And by at the bar, I mean behind the bar with the bartenders.”

He began developing his voice during these performances that he said were mostly for his friends and barflies. Russell cuts the imposing figure that you would expect from a former Marine but his comedy punches hardest when he disarms you with musings on relationships and mental health.

One topic he returns to in his comedy is living with bipolar II disorder. Russell was first diagnosed when he was 26 and trying to get help with the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder from serving abroad. He says he didn’t take the diagnosis well at first, but as he approached 30, he came to grips with it.

“I would just want to be like an advocate for mental health and taking care of yourself because it’s still kind of taboo in the Black community,” Russell said. “I want people to know there’s a lot of us out of here and you’re not by yourself in what you’re dealing with.”

This willingness to speak about himself honestly is what continues to astonish Felonious Munk, a comedian and writer who has created critically acclaimed plays and appeared on HBO and ABC.

Munk, who is based in Chicago, first met Russell in 2014 when he was visiting family and friends in D.C. He has since taken Russell on tour as an opening act throughout the country and is struck by Russell’s ability to craft the rhythm of a joke.

“I think that he takes chances that people don’t notice because of his delivery,” Munk told The Banner on a phone call from Virginia, where he was visiting his daughter. “But the topics that he’s touching and the points he’s making in the middle of the joke, if you’re paying attention, he’s really taking some stands.

“I think he’s probably one of the smarter comedians that doesn’t get credit for being a smart comedian.”

Where he’s going

Russell moved to Prince George’s County six years ago with his then-wife and five children for a job opportunity for her. They have since divorced, but are committed to co-parenting their kids. He calls them the greatest achievements of his life.

In short order, Russell has had to reorient his life and comedy to his new home.

He’s tackling more politically minded jokes as he has steeped himself both in online and in-person communities. But Russell is also grappling with more immediate practical matters, such as dating in your 40s. “I wouldn’t advise it,” he said with a chuckle.

He appreciates the smart audiences in the capital region because they force him to keep writing and refining new material. But he also admires his peers who, like him, are grinding at working a day job — Russell is a facilities engineer in Virginia — and showing up onstage at night.

On a recent evening, Russell was part of a showcase of locals celebrating DC Improv’s 34^th birthday. The club is the premier fixture of the region for nationally renowned comics and upstarts.

He spent the night working on some new material for another hourlong set that he’s hoping to film and release.

“The Improv is always a good time,” he said after the show. “I felt the crowd was engaged all night and they showed me a lot of love on stage.”

After a life spent moving around the world, Russell feels ready to stay for a while.

“I think y’all changed my life with seafood,” he said. “Georgia is calling me, but Maryland has crabs. So it’s hard to leave in a situation like that.”