MC Means…
“The idea was to bring together a group of of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could.”
Any time that I ever host any type of event, I always keep in mind that I need to move the crowd before I am a “Master of Ceremony.”
People come to open mics from all different pathways of life. Traditionally, the mics are a week day evening with your occasional weekend or midday event; however, no matter when it takes place, people are coming from their own universal paths. Somebody is walking into the building after a long day at a job they hate, somebody else at the beginning of what is about to be the best night of their life, and somebody else who is wondering if this might be the last night of theirs.
The Pre-Show
The open mics always started the same way… Late.
That’s where the magic happens though. People are filing in, but not enough to get a meaningful show going. The music is… almost ready to go. People are frustrated, tired, hungry, high, whatever it may be.
There are usually a couple of people who thought we started at 8, and are wondering if they even came to the right place because nothing hints at an open mic about to start. These are secretly my favorites. We do start at 8, if we are ready to start at 8. People who come to the show weekly know that very well, so they come closer o 8:15 so there’s less idle time. The newbies eventually catch on, so now 8:15 is the new 8, and 8:30 the new 8:15.
The problem is, the newbies may not become returners if we are never on time. Regardless of how you feel about “CPT,” the Eventbrite said 8pm, and for some people (my people), that’s the time they want to get there by. The most ambitious of planners may even get there at 7:30-45 just to make sure they can park, and get their social anxiety under control. They then end up with a chair in their hand. I mean… if you there anyway, worst case scenario you are helping the show start earlier… maybe. Once the show actually gets started, if you are part of the organizing crew, there is limited opportunity to engage with people individually and intently; therefore, many connections are formed before the rules even get shared. That’s when you learn about people’s days, what’s going on in the city, and what the temperature of the room is building out to be.
There are some nights when people come in filled with energy, others where the vibe is down - sometimes for obvious reasons, sometimes for hidden reasons. It’s on those nights where even the most introverted version of me ensures that there are a few extra “how are you doing’s” handed out sincerely. I always have in the back of my mind that I could be the first person to ask someone how they are doing in quite some time. That pre-show assessment goes a long way in moving the crowd through the night.
People go to open mics for a myriad of reasons: to be seen, to feel heard, to feel something. The host plays such an important role in that. As the first person to touch the mic formally, there is so much power in what is said first. Something going on in community or the larger world that needs to be addressed? There’s no room for elephants hidden on the list! People are coming from jobs and social circles that quite frankly do not give a FUCK about them or anything they are going through. Even just acknowledging that things aren’t as normal as we pretend, can go a long way.
The Rules
No matter how long the list is, you always gotta start with the rules. Even if you don’t remember the exact cadence of the rooms, you at least have to get #1 right. And what’s the number one rule at Black Xpression?
Rule #1: Respect the mic.
Someone in that room has been preparing all day to share something extremely vulnerable with a room that might be filled to the brim with strangers.
Someone on that list lost their favorite person in the world to issues they don’t even fully comprehend yet, and they just want to talk to somebody about it through a song they used to sing together.
Someone stumbling through their comedy set lost their job today and was just trying to share a moment of laughter with one other soul today before hey find a safe-ish spot to sleep in their car tonight.
Someone came to that door late because they were dealing with an abusive relationship, and didn’t know where else to look for resources besides their fellow artists.
You just never really know the full gravity of someone’s moment on that mic. So yeah, I get it… Beyonce dropped that new video, and you haven’t gotten the chance to talk about it with Black people yet. The rapper who just went up did have some bars that are sticking with you. You just wanted to ask a quick question. That last poet was looking good!
Just wait a second. Respect this human’s moment on the mic.
When I’m up there moving with the crowd? Let the conversations flow then, respectfully. Respecting me while I’m on the mic, is just being present in the night with us. If I call order, trust me that it is for a reason that you would want to be a part of.
Rules #2 through whatever
Part of respecting the mic is owning your voice behind it too. Every opinion expressed on it is the opinion of you. You don’t have to agree with everything said on the mic, but you must ensure that people’s words are with their right owners. As a testament to that, everything you are reading is how Kyler feels when Kyler is hosting.
Open mics don’t hold opinions. People do. There’s been plenty of nights where things are said on the mic that are antithetical to my core beliefs and values. The most challenging moments as a host come in protection of a respectful mic in balance with a safe crowd.
This is where the greatest of hosts show their experience. Every moment matters. If I hear some transphobic shit on the mic, inaction is not an option. While everyone is entitled to an opinion, some “opinions” are harmful, and the moment you let shit slide, you are setting a precedence for who is protected in a space.
Also,
Creative spaces are comprised of a random selection of people in a city filled with random selections of people from random selections of cities and experiences. You get enough of these people together and empower them with time to spit their truth, you are going to get varying degrees of belief systems, values, etc… What made Black Xpression such a powerful space when it was operating at optimal wavelengths, was that people could fall flat on their face on that mic, and somebody was going to call them in and aim to educate for the sake of a more cohesive and inclusive community.
Everyone is entitled to their 5 minutes. For that 5 minutes (5 to 12 if we keeping it 100), someone is doing one of the most courageous things you can do in this digital age. Get up in front of a group of people, and express how you feel. I always acknowledge that bravery. In some moments though, you gotta let them know there has to be timely intervention through dialogue and education.
Somebody learned the importance of pronouns tonight through someone’s spoken word piece.
Someone learned they caused someone harm through someone’s song.
Someone doesn’t even really understand what transphobia is.
When we say that an open mic isn’t your “snap your fingers” type of open mic, we mean that it is a dialogue in every aspect of the ecosystem of the night. Energy consistently moving through the crowd - from performer to listener, from piano to ear, from setup to punch line, from inhale to exhale. We encourage you to remind performers of how powerful they are while they are using their superpowers.
Someone got on that mic and didn’t think they were good enough.
Then when they finished, the host got on the mic, and scolded and chastised the crowd for not giving an applause that was fitting enough to the work of magnificence that was just presented.
Then when they sat down, somebody asked them for their Instagram.
Then the host gave them extra time (even though their poem was 6 minutes) to plug their business that until tonight they thought was “little".”
Then someone came up to them afterward and said their poem gave them the inspiration to perform next week.
My favorite nights were the nights where like 6 people would show up before 10pm. Even more than the nights 100 did.
Those were the nights where 5 minutes for 1 piece was just tradition. When you make peace with each night being its own piece of art, even the smallest of crowds leave the mightiest of impacts. That’s where the podcaster started being born.
Move the Crowd
The most powerful way I like to communicate with performers, is asking them a specific question or relating to a specific segment of their performance, right after they finish. Immediately letting them know they were actively listened to, and that their mic was actively respected. Those more intimate nights, you might end up hearing the piece that inspired the piece behind the piece.
You also just get to have conversations about the world. When there’s only a few performers and audience members, you want to make sure people still leave and feel like they got their time’s worth. Sometimes I soft launch my stand-up comedy career with bits, sometimes I’m topical, but the goal is always engagement and making sure that the crowd knows they are just as important as a crowd at full capacity.
My favorite affirmations I have ever received center on people saying I make them feel safe, seen, heard, and supported. It means even more when it comes from people who saw me for 3 hours most Fridays, and not much outside of that. There’s a lot that goes into hosting - the seen and the unseen. It truly is a song and dance from everybody involved to keep the crowd moving. SME.SHZ always held down the 1s, 2s, and the nunchucks. Kovu was always primed for some corny, petty banter about the superior beard. All aimed at dismantling a lot of the bullshit that is sold to us on a daily basis, the mic was really a spot to kick it authentically.
The amount of vibes caught by people from all walks of life with so much fucking talent. Whether they got up there and read us their fantasy epic, belly danced, hummed, sang their ABC’s, talked about their day, skated, praise danced, sat in silence, cried, beat boxed, freestyled, cyphered, just all… magic.
My primary goal as a host is to move the crowd through the night. Remind them of how beautiful life is, and affirm how treacherous it can be on the same side of the coin. Holding space for tender moments, extending euphoric ones, and navigating choppy ones.
Then do it all again next week.
