McSway Poetry Collective
Fostering Community and Creativity in Montreal
Street lamps gleamed against turning trees; juicy oranges, crisp reds, and mellow yellows, on the cusp of tumbling from their branches in the late October chill. I headed to Mcsway Poetry Collective’s Halloween open mic, hosted at the ever-so-cozy community hub, The Yellow Door. Through the iconic sunshine-yellow entryway and down a cramped staircase I went, greeted by fellow guests murmuring amongst themselves and a carved pumpkin–depicting a glowing No-Face from Spirited Away–taking centre stage atop a black stool. Baked goods were set on the side, donations graciously accepted on behalf of the collective, an assortment of tea was at our disposal, and one attendee played a melancholy Chappell Roan tune on an aged wooden piano as people arrived.
Mcsway Poetry Collective was founded in 2012, driven by the noble quest to revive the art of spoken word poetry at McGill University. The collective is organized and run entirely by students, fostering a safe and inclusive community where local Montreal writers are encouraged to network with other creatives and celebrate poetry and art in the city, with a particular–but not exclusive–emphasis on student work.
I had the opportunity to chat with Mcsway’s current Co-Presidents, Raphaëlle Béhar and Natalie Co, who have been with the collective since 2023. “Mcsway is a vibrant hub where writers, poets, and artists come together to amplify their voices, share raw and refined work, and create an electric, supportive community,” they muse. “From workshops and open mics to art shows and our publication Snaps, Mcsway is where creativity thrives. Whether you’re a seasoned poet or just finding your voice, everyone is welcome—students and non-students alike.”
As a writer who has kept her poetry mostly private, tucked safely within the pages of half-finished Moleskine notebooks stacked on my shelves, participating in an open mic event has always seemed–somehow–both thrilling and absolutely dreadful. I was never good at public speaking; I would spend days before an oral presentation at school chewing at my nails in anxious anticipation, sweating profusely as other students took their turns at the front of the class and leaving damp fingerprints on my cue cards. I would often find myself rushing through my speech in an attempt to get it over with as soon as possible, eventually running out of air and needing to take a 10 second pause to catch my breath.
With the horrors of high school behind me, and with No-Face as my trusted confidant, I figured reading a piece of poetry in front of a group of fellow writers couldn’t be so bad. So I gave my name as the Co-Presidents circled the room, and waited patiently for the readings to begin. I didn’t expect to be the first reader up, but it did eliminate the agony of inevitable internal catastrophizing while waiting for my name to be called, so I took my seat on the rickety stool at the front of the room and read a poem I wrote in October titled Gourd.
It was an empowering experience, even if somewhat nerve-wracking. I tend to read aloud as I write, so I was already accustomed to hearing the words take audible shape. Reading to an audience, however, offered a new perspective–how would others perceive my work? Would they like it? Would they “get” it? And most importantly: did any of that matter, for better or for worse? Participating in this open mic gave my poetry an interactive quality that I hadn’t experienced before.
There is a small abundance of literary journals popping up around Montreal, and each one offers our local community of creatives a chance at showcasing their work and discovering new local writers and artists. In many ways, though, Mcsway feels like even more than this; it is a collective, a community, an organization driven by the desire to foster an inclusive space for writers to convene through physical gatherings and networking. A student-run poetry collective, to me, feels vital to the nurturing of a space for young adult artists to thrive. Being a university student–or, hell, just being a 20-something-year-old–can be such a daunting, isolating experience, and finding community is one of the most effective remedies I could think to prescribe.
Reading my own work at an open mic was something I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d ever have the guts to do, but the experience was incontestably a positive one. I would recommend for any writer, no matter how new or experienced you are at your craft, to find a safe space–whether that be an open mic or just a gathering of your closest friends–to share your work aloud. Reflect on the vulnerability, perhaps even discomfort or fear, that comes along with it, and let that inspire your identity as a writer in whatever way that looks like for you.
Mcsway Poetry Collective hosts a variety of events for writers in the city, including open mic nights designed to showcase local talent, as well as workshops aimed to help writers hone in on their skills and learn new writing and editing techniques. They also run a literary journal titled Snaps, publishing poetry, short fiction, and inter-media pieces biannually. Join them at their next open mic, hosted at Bar Milton-Parc on Tuesday, November 26, or at their next workshop taking place at Building 21 on Thursday, November 28. Further updates regarding upcoming events and Snaps can be found on their Instagram.
