Last Friday, I attended LanSINGout’s Spring concert. What a joy!
My 24-year-old, Callum, joined the chorus this year when their grad school class schedule conflicted with rehearsals for West Michigan Voices of Pride, Grand Rapids’ local LGBTQ choir, where they had been a member the year before. When Nick, Callum’s section leader in WMVOP, heard they would have to give it up for the school year, he invited them to audition for LanSINGout — which he directs — and even offered to carpool to weekly practices.
Callum has been in a choir every year since 6th grade. To not sing is to not breathe. Joining WMVOP was one of the first things they did after moving to Grand Rapids. They found a lovely community as a new college graduate in a new city.
An early choir pic, well before 6th grade!
On the drive to Lansing for the concert, my husband, Callum, and I listened to Hank Green’s newest podcast, Humans. In the first episode, he interviewed his brother, author John Green. Together, they’ve been the Vlogbrothers for over 20 years — among the first online creators. During the interview, John said he thinks the internet is a terrible third place. I brought up the idea of third places over our pre-concert dinner and admitted I was getting a little tired of hearing about them and their importance. Then I realized: that’s probably because mine is such a fundamental part of my life that I take it for granted and assume others do too. They don’t.
As Callum, a librarian, talked about how few free third places (also often called third spaces) there are, my husband asked, “What’s a third place?”
So, for those who are unfamiliar, let me take a little detour from our conversation. The term was coined by American sociologist Ray Oldenburg in his 1989 book, The Great Good Place. Callum, who has a degree in Sociology, knows the concept more from Robert D. Putnam’s book, Bowling Alone, which was recently made into a documentary called Join or Die.
Oldenburg defines a third place as “a generic designation for a great variety of public places that host the regular, voluntary, informal, and happily anticipated gatherings of individuals beyond the realms of home and work.” In contrast to first places (home) and second places (work), a third place allows you to set aside your concerns and simply enjoy the company and conversation around you.
The theme song to Cheers comes to mind: Sometimes you wanna go / Where everybody knows your name / And they’re always glad you came / You wanna be where you can see / Our troubles are all the same / You wanna be where everybody knows your name
Pubs, cafes, parks, libraries, churches, barbershops — all third places. Oldenburg argued these spaces are vital for democracy and individual happiness because they foster relaxed, voluntary conversation among equals. The Albert Shanker Institute puts it simply: third places are societal glue. They bind people together to construct communities.
That’s not an accident — and it’s not magic either. This concept reminds us that human connections need nurturing and that community depends on things as simple as a few tables (or maybe reformers?), a friendly host (let’s say instructor), and a willingness to see what happens when we get together face-to-face. We build community every day at Pilates in Holland. I love the conversations that happen during and between classes. A new client recently told me she doesn’t know how, but every person she’s met at PIH is amazing. I told her it’s because Mandy fosters it. It’s intentional.
Every. Body. Belongs. is the beating heart of Pilates in Holland.
So back to dinner. In explaining third spaces to my husband, I realized I actually have more than one. Pilates in Holland is definitely important to me, but my most long-standing third space isn’t so much a place as a group of people I am bound to. When we met with tiny kids, we called ourselves Playgroup and gathered at parks and each other’s houses. We had family gatherings and weekends away. Today, we call ourselves a book club. The name doesn’t matter — it’s what happens when we’re together that does.
When we got to the concert and Cal walked out on stage with the chorus, I witnessed them in their third place. Parents, you know that feeling — when you see your kid happy, when you can see that they feel seen and proud so visibly it makes you want to cry? That was me. Callum was radiating joy and acceptance. They belonged. And I was so grateful to Nick and to everyone on that stage who had created this beautiful place for my kid to call theirs.
We all deserve a place like that — where we belong so completely it shows on our faces. I hope you’ve found yours.
