On a Tuesday night at Canteen Brewhouse, the lights dim just enough to shift the mood. Conversations taper off, glasses settle onto wooden tables and all eyes turn toward a single microphone at the front of the room. There is no band warming up, no punchlines being tested. Instead, there is anticipation, the quiet kind that comes when someone is about to tell the truth.
“I’ll go sit somewhere and people watch,” says Marvin Cotton, host of the Duke City Story Slam. “And I’ll wonder what their story is. And the beautiful thing about storytelling events is you get to hear people’s stories.”
Marvin Cotton, the host of the Duke City Story Slam (Credit: Photo by Duke City Story Slam)
That curiosity about the lives unfolding around us is the heartbeat of the Duke City Story Slam (DCSS), a bi-monthly event hosted by the nonprofit Storytellers of New Mexico. What began in 2018 as Albuquerque’s only competitive story slam has since evolved into something less about scores and more about connection.
In early 2025, the organization removed the judging component altogether. The shift, according to organizers, was simple: people don’t need to compete to be heard.
Now, on the second Tuesday of every other month, featured storytellers and open mic participants take the stage to share personal, true stories based on a central theme. The room fills with a mix of regulars and first-timers, longtime Albuquerque residents and newcomers searching for community. There is a suggested $5 donation at the door, but what unfolds inside feels far more valuable.
“I was just surprised to come across this storytelling gem,” says Gladys Morales, who is a featured storyteller for DSCC. Like many, Morales discovered DCSS after years of listening to The Moth Radio Hour and wondering if Albuquerque had something similar. It did and it was local, intimate, and welcoming.
Gladys Morales telling a story at the Duke City Story Slam (Credit: Photo by Duke City Story Slam)
At its core, DCSS is about human connection. Producer Sara Malone, who also serves on the board of Storytellers of New Mexico, says the intention is deliberate. “Our intention is to connect human to human and have people relate to what the storyteller is sharing,” says Malone. “Very little of that is as authentic and immediate as a personal storytelling event.”
In an age of curated feeds and filtered moments, there is something disarming about a person standing alone with nothing but their voice. The stories are not therapy sessions, and they are not stand-up routines crafted for punchlines. They are carefully shaped accounts of lived experience.
Marcos Gonzalez, a featured storyteller, describes the experience of listening and eventually telling as deeply personal. “Storytelling and listening to stories is a little bit like listening to songs you like,” says Gonzalez. “Sometimes it speaks to you in that moment in your life.” A story can land differently depending on where you are emotionally, Gonzalez explains. The right one can feel like it was written just for you.
For Gonzalez, stepping onto the stage meant shifting roles. As an attorney, Gonzalez is used to telling other people’s stories in courtrooms. Sharing his own was different. “Telling my own story, it was a little more vulnerable,” says Gonzalez. “I was nervous about how people were going to respond.”
That vulnerability is something every storyteller at DCSS confronts. Before the microphone is adjusted and the first sentence leaves their mouth, there is a quiet reckoning with fear of forgetting a line, fear of being judged, fear of exposing something tender. Cotton has watched that moment countless times.
On a Tuesday night at Canteen Brewhouse, the lights dim just enough to shift the mood. Conversations taper off, glasses settle onto wooden tables, and all eyes turn toward a single microphone at the front of the room. There is no band warming up, no punchlines being tested. Instead, there is anticipation, the quiet kind that comes when someone is about to tell the truth.
“I’ll go sit somewhere and people watch,” says Marvin Cotton, host of the Duke City Story Slam. “And I’ll wonder what their story is. And the beautiful thing about storytelling events is you get to hear people’s stories.”
That curiosity about the lives unfolding around us is the heartbeat of the Duke City Story Slam (DCSS), a bi-monthly event hosted by the nonprofit Storytellers of New Mexico. What began in 2018 as Albuquerque’s only competitive story slam has since evolved into something less about scores and more about connection.
In early 2025, the organization removed the judging component altogether. The shift, according to organizers, was simple: People don’t need to compete to be heard.
Now, on the second Tuesday of every other month, featured storytellers and open mic participants take the stage to share personal, true stories based on a central theme. The room fills with a mix of regulars and first-timers, longtime Albuquerque residents and newcomers searching for community. There is a suggested $5 donation at the door, but what unfolds inside feels far more valuable.
“I was just surprised to come across this storytelling gem,” says Gladys Morales, who is a featured storyteller for DSCC. Like many, Morales discovered DCSS after years of listening to The Moth Radio Hour and wondering if Albuquerque had something similar. It did, and it was local, intimate and welcoming.
At its core, DCSS is about human connection. Producer Sarah Malone, who also serves on the board of Storytellers of New Mexico, says the intention is deliberate. “Our intention is to connect human to human and have people relate to what the storyteller is sharing,” says Malone. “Very little of that is as authentic and immediate as a personal storytelling event.”
Sofia Salazar performing at a Duke City Story Slam event (Credit: Photo by Sara Atencio-Gonzales)
In an age of curated feeds and filtered moments, there is something disarming about a person standing alone with nothing but their voice. The stories are not therapy sessions, and they are not stand-up routines crafted for punchlines. They are carefully shaped accounts of lived experience.
Marcos Gonzalez, a featured storyteller, describes the experience of listening and eventually telling as deeply personal. “Storytelling and listening to stories is a little bit like listening to songs you like,” says Gonzalez. “Sometimes it speaks to you in that moment in your life.” A story can land differently depending on where you are emotionally, Gonzalez explains. The right one can feel like it was written just for you.
For Gonzalez, stepping onto the stage meant shifting roles. As an attorney, Gonzalez is used to telling other people’s stories in courtrooms. Sharing his own was different. “Telling my own story, it was a little more vulnerable,” says Gonzalez. “I was nervous about how people were going to respond.”
That vulnerability is something every storyteller at DCSS confronts. Before the microphone is adjusted and the first sentence leaves their mouth, there is a quiet reckoning with fear of forgetting a line, fear of being judged, fear of exposing something tender. Cotton has watched that moment countless times.
“Before you go and tell your story, you’re afraid of that stage,” says Cotton. “But I have yet to have a person come off that stage without a smile on their face saying, ‘I’m so glad I did that.’”
What happens between those two moments, the fear and the smile, is where the magic lives. As the story unfolds, the audience leans in. There is laughter in unexpected places. There are collective exhales during heavy pauses. Heads nod. Someone wipes away a tear. For a few minutes, strangers share the same emotional space.
Morales describes storytelling as an act of release. “When I share my story, it’s no longer my story,” says Morales. “It expands because it reaches so many people.” Once spoken aloud, the experience belongs not just to the teller, but to everyone who recognizes themselves inside it.
Over the years, the event has built a steady community. Some attendees come every other month and never step on stage. Others eventually find the courage to drop their name in the open-mic hat. Featured storytellers work with a volunteer coach beforehand, refining their pieces to ensure they are structured and ready for a public audience. That emphasis is not on perfection but on preparation, sharing something you feel grounded enough to tell.
“We’ve built community,” says Malone. It is a word that surfaces again and again in conversation. Community in the sense of gathering. Community in the sense of support. Community in the sense of recognizing that your story matters.
“It’s a very peaceful, loving, funny, energetic community,” says Cotton. Cotton is quick to dispel any assumptions about who belongs in the room. “Don’t think you’re too young, too old. Don’t think this is just for one group of people. It’s literally for everyone.”
And that inclusivity is visible. On any given night, the audience reflects a broad range of ages and backgrounds. The themes vary from month to month, but the throughline remains constant: honesty.
The DCSS continues to meet at Canteen Brewhouse, offering Albuquerque residents a space to gather around something increasingly rare, undistracted attention. No scrolling. No comment sections. Just one person at a microphone and a room willing to listen.
For those looking to tell their own story, the invitation stands. For those who would rather sit in the audience and absorb, that is welcome too. Even if you simply want to relax with a drink and hear something real, there is a seat waiting.
In a city filled with artists, musicians, and performers, the Duke City Story Slam carves out a quieter, more intimate niche. It reminds us that before we are an audience or critics, before we are strangers passing each other in grocery story aisles, we are people carrying stories.
And sometimes, all it takes is a microphone and a little courage for them to be heard.
The Duke City Story Slam returns on Tuesday, March 10, from 6 to 8 p.m. at Canteen Brewhouse (2381 Aztec Rd. NE), continuing its bi-monthly tradition of live, community-driven storytelling held every second Tuesday of alternating months. This installment, themed Women-Inspired, celebrates International Women’s Month. A suggested $5 donation will be collected at the door. For more information about the Duke City Story Slam, visit storytellersofnewmexico.org