CHAMPAIGN, Ill. — Sharing things with strangers can sometimes be easier than sharing with a friend.
That thought comes alive for me the evening I attend the SPEAK Café, a space full of song, poetry, art and expression. Hosted by local artist Shaya Robinson, the open-mic event takes place in the Rest Lab 8: Greenspace exhibition, a restorative haven tucked within Krannert Art Museum’s walls.
As I step inside, my eyes immediately find the small circular couch draped with blankets, resting atop the soft green turf. The room is scattered with chairs, pillows and spaces to sit on the floor — an open invitation to settle wherever comfort calls. Along one wall, a collection of toys waits, ready to be fidgeted with by thoughtful or nervous hands. It’s a space that asks nothing of you except that you be at ease.
I make my way in with my friend, whom I’d convinced to join me. Robinson greets us with the kind of warmth that dissolves hesitation. She encourages us to sign up for the open mic; we do so, shyly, then find our seats.

Soon Rachel Lauren Storm, the assistant director of community engagement and learning at the museum, introduces the event. Her voice carries both calm and conviction as she tells us that all forms of art are welcome — anything and everything we feel moved to share. Poetry of our own or of others, music, stories, fragments still in progress. Share, share, share, she says.
The first performer steps up to the mic. They preface their poem with a nervous laugh, admitting they’re anxious but grateful to be here. Then they begin. Their voice wavers at first, then steadies as the words spill out — memories of childhood, moments of pain, the slow process of healing. The room listens in stillness. No rustle, no whisper, just the rhythm of their story unfolding.
When the poem ends, tears slip quietly down the performer’s face. For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then the audience breaks into applause, gentle and human. I sit frozen, moved by the beauty of what just unfolded: A stranger’s story offered so openly; the courage it takes to turn vulnerability into art; the safety that fills a room when people truly listen.
The next few performers bring an incredible range of expression. One shares a tender poem about the romance they share with their wife. Another speaks of addiction, recovery and the triumph of growth. My friend performs a beautiful piece on their flute, the music echoing gracefully through the museum. The audience is a beautiful mosaic of students, teachers, parents and grandparents. Yet, at this moment, labels fall away. What binds us isn’t age or background, but a shared devotion to creation and listening. No one here asks whose words, whose music, whose story. It’s enough that someone has something to offer, and we are here to receive it.
I am overwhelmed by how effortlessly this space holds us — a room full of strangers connected through their own interpretations of art; a home for first-time performers finding courage and for seasoned ones returning to a familiar embrace; a refuge for listeners and observers, drawn by curiosity and care; a space for everyone.
If you’re reading this and yearning for community, SPEAK Café will welcome you with open arms. Bring an old poem, a piece of art, a song still unfinished, whatever you wish to share. We’ll be there, ready to listen.
Editor’s notes: Information about SPEAK Café: December, on Dec. 4, at 6 p.m., is available online. Rest Lab 8: Greenspace is on view through Jan. 31, 2026. For information about Krannert Art Museum, contact Evelyn Shapiro at esha@illinois.edu.


