Can a Brooklyn Open Mic be the Answer to Loneliness?
Combating our current scourge of loneliness and social isolation must be seen as a societal imperative. Platitudes about togetherness won’t do; we need action items.
A new survey published by the American Psychological Association unfortunately doesn’t inspire optimism:
“Half of adults in the U.S. reported feelings of emotional disconnection, saying they have felt isolated from others (54%), felt left out (50%), or have lacked companionship (50%) often or some of the time, suggesting loneliness may have become a defining feature of life in America.”
This lack of belonging and connection to something greater typifies the atomization of our modern age: many of us work remote jobs, cocooned in our small apartments, and isolated from the broader community.
As has been widely reported, loneliness and social connection doesn’t just feel lousy; it’s actually really bad for you.
The late sociologist Amitai Etzioni was way ahead of the curve on this. In his 1996 book, The New Golden Rule: Community and Morality in a Democratic Society, Etzioni wrote that “residents of large cities who live an isolated life in high-rise buildings and have no other sources of social attachments have been found to tend to be mentally unstable, impulsive, prone to suicide, and otherwise predisposed to mental and psychosomatic illnesses.”
Circumstances, sadly, have only gotten worse since Etzioni wrote those prescient words in the 1990s.
In 2025, things feel bleak, like we’re destined to a world of AI, DoorDash, and impersonal social media interactions with pseudonymous X users.
The good news: we don’t have to give in to this trend of hyper-individualism. Community can indeed make a comeback.
At Kitty Kiernan’s - a small pub in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, teeming with personality – the communitarian spirit is alive and well.
Just about any day you go in there, you’re met with idiosyncratic locals (like “Mustache Dave” from Staten Island), always prepared with their best stories; affable bartenders who remember your drink order; and an overall aura of hospitality.
But Thursdays are when things really come to life.
Every Thursday since 2016, Antonio Mancilla has been Kitty’s master of ceremonies, facilitating the bar’s wildly successful open mic night.
Under Antonio’s watch, Kitty’s open mic has become the talk of the town, attracting singer-songwriters from Bay Ridge, Staten Island, Manhattan, and elsewhere in New York. Performers know to be punctual, as the sign-in sheet gets full in minutes.
The energy at the open mic, however, isn’t stuffy; it’s casual, and patrons are supportive of newbies.
One of those newbies was me. Just over a month or so ago, I trepidatiously waltzed into Kitty’s with my nylon string acoustic-electric guitar. “I won’t be any good at this,” I told myself. Antonio, being his gregarious and encouraging self, immediately put me at ease and gave me a warm introduction. I got through the one song I was practiced enough to play, an old tune by the Postal Service, and was met with applause and a sticker from Antonio that read, “Kitty Kiernan’s Open Mic, Brooklyn, NY.”
The atmosphere was disarming.
“We don’t take ourselves very seriously,” Antonio told me. That’s certainly true. I recall once when a woman and her puppet – Kevin, I think his name was – performed the 1981 hit “Don't You Want Me” by The Human League. It was a memorable performance, for sure.
For the first-timer, reticent to play live, Kitty’s is ideal. Once, Antonio told me, a woman named Peggy showed up to the open mic under the impression that it was a karaoke night. Upon realizing that she would in fact be performing solo, she was understandably nervous. Soon, though, after the initial jitters wore off, she came into her own. On one occasion, she stole the night with a cover of “White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane. “It was a brilliant performance,” Antonio said. Now, she’s someone who “sees the Kitty’s folk as family.”
While something as simple as an open mic night may appear trivial in the grand scheme of things, it is, I think, an effective tool in combating loneliness.
“People don’t come to a bar to drink, they can do that at home; they come for the companionship,” Jess, one of Kitty’s bartenders, told me.
More and more, however, we’re doing just about everything at home, including drinking. It is when we retreat from social life, though, that we deprive ourselves of the inimitability of real, human connection.
The trick, I’ve learned, is to force yourself out of the confines of your studio apartment and ensconce yourself in social settings. It’s really the only way. You can’t even think about it. You just have to do it. As Antonio says, “shut up and play!”
Frank Filocomo is the Advancement Coordinator at RealClearFoundation. His work has been published in National Review, the Federalist, University Bookman, and elsewhere.
