The Space RI

10/23/2026

I think you HAVE to come out and see these incredible performers we’re lucky to have perform at our Block Party!
THIS SATURDAY 11-3
SEE YOU THERE

10/14/2026

Get to know us!
Check out our Calendar of Events on our site to attend an event and stop by. :)

10/09/2026

Our Block Party is coming up!
Reserve a spot in our eventbrite (in bio).

Come one, come all! Free and open to everyone!
Oct 24 11am-3pm
Chestnut St, PVD

(This post was not made with AI)

The Space is hosting a big ol’ BLOCK PARTY on Chestnut St and we hope you can make it! In-between Elm st and Elbow st

09/20/2026

Come one, come all! We hope to see you there :)

07/14/2026

Some people don’t just work in a place, they become part of its foundation, and that’s what Lenna has been for The Space.
This week, we’re saying goodbye (for now) to Lenna as they head off to New York to begin the next chapter of their journey: nursing. While we couldn’t be more excited for everything ahead, it’s impossible to put into words just how much they’ll be missed.
The truth is that The Space would not be what it is today without Lenna. Over this past year, they have welcomed people through our doors with warmth and authenticity, cared for this community with so much heart, and quietly carried countless pieces of this place that many people will never see. They showed up with kindness, curiosity, steadiness, and an unwavering belief in what we were building.
Personally, I don’t know that I could have done this without them. Lenna, thank you for believing in this dream, for caring for this community as if it were your own, and for leaving your fingerprints on every corner of The Space. You’ve helped create something that will continue to ripple outward long after you’ve gone.
While no one could ever replace you, we’re also incredibly excited to welcome Evie into this role. We know they’ll bring their own gifts, heart, and magic to this community, and we’re so grateful for what lies ahead.
But this week belongs to you. Thank you for everything you’ve given us. Thank you for helping make The Space feel like home. New York is so incredibly lucky to have you. ❤️

07/07/2026

Only A few seats remain!
THIS SUNDAY, we’ll gather around the table for an evening of Indigenous food, storytelling, history, and community led by Destiny Spears of Wisagate and storyteller Lynsea Montanari.
Come be in community, listen and bear witness to the stories that have always belonged to this land.
100% of ticket proceeds will be donated directly to the Tomaquag Museum.
There are only a couple of tickets left, and once they’re gone, this gathering is full.
We’d be honored to share the table with you.
DM us for tickets.

06/18/2026

This year marks 250 years of the United States. There will be parties, flags, fireworks, and celebrations across the country, but there is another story here, too. One of colonization, displacement, cultural erasure, and unimaginable loss for the Indigenous peoples who were already here. 

The very first event ever held at The Space was a storytelling dinner. It feels fitting that one year later, we return to a table once again. Not to celebrate ourselves, but to make room for the voices, histories, and living cultures that have always belonged to this land.

We are incredibly honored to welcome caterer Destiny Spears of Wisagate and storyteller Lynsea Montanari for an evening of Indigenous food, storytelling, history, culture, and community. These are the stories that existed long before any of us. Before Rhode Island. Before the United States. More than anything, we are grateful for the opportunity to be in witness, gather in community, and learn together from people willing to share their stories, knowledge, and culture. It is a privilege to host this event, and an even greater privilege to share it with all of you. 

Tickets are $50, and 100% of ticket proceeds will be donated directly to the Tomaquag Museum. This event is deeply important to us, and will sell out fast. Please DM for ticket information.

06/08/2026

I have a magical backyard filled with fuzzy little nature creatures. Truly, sometimes it feels like something out of a movie. One of my favorite things about my yard is that I never know what I’ll find. On a walk the other day, I saw a blue jay sitting beside a squirrel like they were old friends.

Twice now, I’ve stumbled upon tiny baby bunny dens hidden quietly in the earth. Both times it was because one of them was found out of nest. Not even a week old. So small they barely looked real.

After the first den was attacked by predators, I tried harder with the second. We covered it gently, left a tiny opening for mama rabbit to come and go, tried to offer just enough protection without disturbing what was wild.

This morning, I stepped outside during a work call and saw a crow carrying the last baby away. I could barely finish the call. My heart sank. I looked in the nest and they were all gone.

And I know, intellectually, this is nature. Rabbits feed crows and foxes and hawks. Life feeds life. The earth has always been beautiful and brutal in equal measure. But something in me feels deeply sad about it. Ancient sad. The kind that makes you wonder if you failed some small sacred thing.

I keep thinking about the Gita. The part where we are reminded that we are responsible for our actions, not the outcome. That we are asked to act with devotion, care, love, and somehow loosen our grip on the ending. I think I believed, quietly, that if I cared enough maybe I could change the story. But maybe the lesson isn’t about the rabbits.

Maybe it’s about the unbearable tenderness of loving fragile things in a world where everything is temporary. Many ancient texts speak often of impermanence, of surrender, of life moving through cycles much bigger than us. Maybe the practice is not becoming hard because we cannot save everything. Maybe the practice is staying soft anyway.

Loving what is fleeting, caring without certainty, protecting what we can, and grieving when we can’t.

06/03/2026

Pride was never about being digestible. It was resistance long before it was rainbow logos.

It was q***r and trans people, especially Black and Brown people, disabled people, s*x workers, drag queens, weird kids, outcasts, getting tired of being criminalized, erased, pathologized, abandoned, legislated against, and told their existence was too inconvenient. And saying:

absolutely the f**k not.

So no…we’re not interested in respectability politics over here. We are interested in protecting people.

In chosen family. In mutual care. In making spaces where people don’t have to explain themselves to be loved.

This one is for the people still becoming. The people unlearning shame. The people surviving systems that were never built with them in mind.

And to the people making being human harder than it already is; through policy, cruelty, indifference, judgment, or fear:

a very loving, deeply rooted, unwavering f**k no.

Anyway. Happy Pride! Be gay, stay weird, question authority, take up space. 🌈

04/02/2026

In a world built for neurotypicals, being different often comes with an unspoken expectation to adapt, translate, and conform. That’s what it can feel like to be autistic in this kind of world. And instead of asking how the system could be more flexible, more inclusive, the expectation becomes: adapt, translate, conform. But this doesn’t just happen with autism. It shows up anywhere difference exists. People are asked to shrink. To mask. To make themselves more digestible. But the problem was never the person.
It’s a world that refuses to be multilingual.
Autism doesn’t need fixing. Difference doesn’t need erasing. What we need is curiosity. Flexibility. A willingness to understand ways of being that aren’t our own. Because inclusion isn’t about forcing people into a system. It’s about building one that was never exclusionary to begin with. Binaries aren’t truth. Question them.