Night to shine: Where every guest is royal

On a Friday night in Rabieh, the usual script of Lebanese evenings was rewritten. The lights dimmed, the music swelled and a red carpet rolled out. Not for premieres or politicians, but for guests who are too often asked to stay on the sidelines. The SKILD Center, with the Tim Tebow Foundation, created Night to Shine, which transformed the Liqaa venue into a prom night experience that honored people.

The guests arrived at the event to experience something beyond a mere display of goodwill.

The hall operated as a busy space where makeup stations created an environment of focused work and cheerful laughter while people styled their hair and selected footwear, which they proceeded to show off. Dresses were fluffed, jackets straightened, mirrors leaned into. Everyone was being prepared not just to attend, but to shine.

That intentionality, Hiba Al Jamal explains, is the point. The director of SKILD Center describes Night to Shine as a response to how people with disabilities are often treated in Lebanon. “Night to Shine creates a visible, joyful counter-narrative,” she told The Beiruter. “It sends a clear message: you are seen, you are celebrated, and you belong.”

What a crown can undo

Nowhere was that message clearer than in the crowning. One by one, each guest was named, welcomed and crowned king or queen. No winners, no exceptions.

The crown, Al Jamal insists, is not a prop. “Symbolically, the crown represents dignity, value, and honor,” she explained. “Many individuals with special needs are accustomed to being defined by limitations. That moment of crowning reverses the narrative.”

Watching it happen in real time, the pause before the crown is placed, the sudden smile, the straightening of shoulders makes the symbolism tangible. “It honors their identity not in diagnosis, but in worth, beauty and strength,” Al Jamal said. “The message is to portray that they are kings and queens in the eyes of God, and royalty for us as well.”

The evening’s theme, “Honored, Valued & Loved,” echoed through every detail. In a society where people with disabilities often have to fight to be included in schools, workplaces and public spaces, the phrasing felt deliberately public. “We want to publicly recognize their presence and contributions to our society,” Al Jamal explained, “and honor their value as an integral member of the community. They are loved and embraced not out of obligation, but out of genuine belonging.”

There was a red carpet moment, professional photos and a dance floor that never quite emptied. Public figures and celebrities such as Michel Azzi, Elsa Sghayeb and more participated in a public event together with educators and volunteers, who performed dance activities while taking photographs with event attendees. The event wanted to spotlight its most neglected participants, who usually receive no attention from others.

Joy as a form of resistance

For Al Jamal, Night to Shine is careful to position itself as more than a feel-good evening. “This is not just a social event, it is a statement,” she explained. By placing people with disabilities at the heart of a glamorous, high-profile celebration, complete with media attention and familiar faces. “It confronts unconscious biases and invites society to rethink inclusion as something beautiful and powerful.”

Holding such a celebration in Lebanon today also carries weight. In a country marked by ongoing crises, joy can feel indulgent.

Al Jamal sees it as necessary. “In times of crisis, the most vulnerable communities are often the first to be forgotten,” she said. “That is precisely why this celebration is necessary. Joy becomes an act of resilience.”

That resistance to pity is carefully built into the night’s structure. Guests are referred to as “honored guests,” not beneficiaries. They arrive with buddies or prom dates, not caregivers. “We are intentional about language, structure and atmosphere,” Al Jamal explained. “The focus is on experience, agency and celebration, not on highlighting limitations.” Empowerment, she added, comes from equal treatment and from creating an environment where participants lead the joy.

For families, the transformation is often just as striking. Many arrive unsure of what to expect, especially if it is their first Night to Shine. “When they witness the royal treatment with dignity, their smiles tell a story different from the one they are used to in society,” Al Jamal said, pointing to how rare it is for their children to be publicly catered for at this scale.

That shift is felt just as strongly by the participants themselves. “I wait for this night every year,” said Elie, one of the evening’s guests. “Here, I don’t feel different. I get dressed, I dance, I take pictures, I feel like everyone else. It’s the one night where I feel fully seen.”

The process of organizing an event of this size needs complete planning which requires dedicated work to make accessibility and comfort needs available to the participants. “Inclusion does not happen by accident; it requires intentional design,” she said. Experience and strong partnerships have helped smooth the process, as has the collaboration with the Tim Tebow Foundation. That global link, Al Jamal notes, adds another layer of meaning: participants in Lebanon are part of a worldwide night of dignity and honor.

As the music swelled and the dance floor filled, the most moving moment for Al Jamal remained the crowning. “When the crown is placed on a participant’s head and you see their expression change, the joy they express when they are valued and loved it is rewarding beyond measure,” she said.

If there is one shift she hopes to see beyond the ballroom, it is a move from pity to partnership. “People with special needs do not need sympathy,” Al Jamal said. “They need access, opportunity and respect.”