If you’ve ever participated in Toastmasters, you’ve experienced what I call The Spectrum. You have professional speakers who get paid to speak at large events. Also in the room are beginners, whose hands visibly shake while they’re holding their notecards. What’s incredible about this atmosphere is how it holds space for everyone. The newer speakers can learn from the more experienced speakers. The professionals can celebrate how far they’ve come with practice and repetition. The room is a place for growth, trial and error, learning, and community.

If you’ve ever attended or performed at an open mic, you’ll notice The Spectrum there too. It’s a container of bravery, vulnerability, and experimentation. Everyone in the room is either there because they’re supporting someone on stage, or because one day they want to perform. Of all the open mics I’ve been to, there’ve been flawless, breathtaking performances. There have also been moments when an artist forgets a stanza or blanks out in the middle of the song. Moments when it’s silent and awkward and we all hold our breath, finally exhaling and erupting in cheers when the musician remembers the chords and relaxes into the music. Moments when you feel a complete sense of awe and inspiration when an artist finishes a poem or song and you can only smile and shake your head knowing this is what they were created to do and share with the world.

At all the open mics I’ve attended and participated in, there’s a sense of community. The audience is rooting the performer on, thanking them for their bravery, their courage, and for sharing a piece of themselves.

Whether it's Toastmasters or an open mic, you’ll find The Spectrum. It’s a beautiful way of celebrating how far we’ve come, and how much more we can sharpen and hone our craft.

With each scenario there’s a commonality- someone has something to say and the bravery to share it.