Many collectives in Lebanon have made notable and impressive efforts in providing a common space, such as Cliffhangers, The Poetry Pot, Sukoon Magazine, Fade In, and most recently Sidewalk Beirut open mic, which I founded about a year ago. I was worried that the concept of a weekly open mic wouldn’t succeed, yet I was positively surprised that only a few weeks into it, Sidewalk Beirut was attracting many enthusiastic individuals, who curate a supportive and kind environment that ensures and protects the «safe» aspect of this common space. Indeed, more and more people flock to such events, with notebooks or instruments in hand, excited to share their stories. These common spaces allow people to tackle important political and social issues through their own personal narratives.
Michelle, 22, recent AUB graduate and a regular at Sidewalk Beirut, described these common spaces as: «Unique and inviting. They are necessary if you need a break – they can easily become a place where no one questions you. No stigma comes along with them.» She shared her personal experience of these spaces, saying: «There are two poems I’ve heard that I think I’ll never forget, both triggered by rape and abuse, and I think just having that outlet and support is a huge leap in the healing process.»
Claire Wilson, 26, MA student at Boston University, has led her own common spaces in Amman and Boston. She was glad to find an abundance of common spaces in Beirut upon her recent move to the city. «As a newcomer to Beirut, these common spaces are a way for me to immediately connect with storytellers, poets, musicians, artists and other like-minded people who bring presence into listening and expressing. They are a sliver of time composed of the rare combination of human connection, struggle, vulnerability and love.» She talked about the innate value found in such common spaces and said: «Open mics heal. Because music heals, words heal, stories heal, community heals.» She went on to add, «The stage builds confidence in the self and provides a platform for exchanging experiences of pain and resilience, all the while strengthening community. Everyone can self-prescribe their own remedy for what they share and what they are ready to absorb.» She noted that such common spaces become places where youth redefine their values and stances: «In a very real and tangible way, these spaces ask this generation to wrestle with the contradictions of our yearned freedoms.»
Akil Iskandar, 31, interior designer and frequenter of these common spaces, noted that any social or political differences dissipate in them. He said: «I first visited the open mic to share a poem I like. I was excited to get on stage.» He noted that after a few visits to the open mic, he felt a certain difference and noted that: «After a while, my motivation took a different shape, I was also driven to enjoy the supportive environment that brings together the audience and the side conversations that happen. Through which, religion, money or even gender differences dissipated and left room for interesting dialogues between audience members.»
Farah Aridi, 31, writer, researcher and PhD candidate in Arab Literature and Spatial Theory at Goldsmiths University, commented on Beirut’s common spaces: «Over the past ten years, Beirut has been steadily reclaiming a space that is now becoming proudly transgressive and assertive, starting from hoisting soapboxes on street corners to throwing full-fledged events in pubs, theatres and cultural centers.» She noted its collective and inclusive aspect and said: «Such a space gathers professionals and amateurs; it is a space through which many have grown and continue to do so; it is a safe space where ‘different’ or ‘othered’ voices can be heard.» Farah has performed poetry in Beirut and London throughout the past seven years, and her recent move back to Beirut allowed her to really note the change that has taken place in such common spaces. She added, «This space engendered a milieu through which many could feel involved. Personally, I consider this appropriated socio-spatial entity to be a platform to reclaim a right to difference, a right to voice and participation and a right to the city.» She shared her personal experience with such spaces, saying: «Also, on a personal level, since different people inscribe different meaning and value onto things, it is through such a space that I met my politicized self, through this space’s ability to bring together narratives of the individualistic and the collective. It is beautiful and empowering to watch and it is a pleasure to be part of.»
Indeed, these common spaces become places where people can take back what is rightfully theirs: their pain, stories, voices and humanity. Their necessity is highlighted by the increasing number of initiatives around the country and the growing number of people that depend on these spaces. In an increasingly suffocating climate, these common spaces provide a much-needed catharsis, where people can come together and, for a little while, be themselves and own their pain. And in a region which is in dire need of relief, these common spaces are helping deflate this stress bit by bit. They are a breathing space with a force of life that regenerates itself with every individual that partakes in them. They are a dim light in the darkness of pain that engulf our region.