Gen Z needs more third spaces, but once (or if) they find it, can they afford it?
The problem with introversion shaming
Initially, I set out to write an entry encouraging you, my dearest reader, to find a third space.
What is a third space you may ask? This is a place outside of work and home. Think of the pub that Ted and his friends are seen at in every episode of How I Met Your Mother or Central Perk Coffee in Friends. It’s somewhere you are a regular. Somewhere where the waiter knows your order and the manager knows your name.
Third spaces also exist outside of food and drink. They can be your local jazz bar that you visit every Friday, or – my personal favourite – the Salsa club on Queen St that hosts lessons every Wednesday. Third spaces are supposed to be a place that offers you solace, belongingness, and an atmosphere that sparks purpose. Ultimately, third spaces serve to support the art of hanging out.
As a creative and newbie to a big city, I like to keep my eyes peeled for these creative third spaces. Though I do love to dance, King Street has never piqued my interest. I often indulge in live music, scenic cafes, film screenings, and celebrating my Caribbean culture, so naturally, I am drawn to events and spaces that exude those elements.
Before I go on, it’s worth noting that I am a strong proponent of finding a third space. Living in a highly individualistic country and even more individualistic city, I find myself craving collectivism and communal places more than ever.
However, like any cultural phenomenon or public discourse, it’s worth shedding light on some of the obstacles that ‘justify’ the pushback.
The problem with gatekeeping
But one thing I have noticed about Toronto that I did not encounter in Edmonton is that the girlies like to gatekeep.
The creative social scene can feel impenetrable if you don’t have initial “insider” connections and in a city whose cultural atmosphere is quite congested, It’s rather difficult to select diamonds among rubble. I mean, they’re called hidden gems for a reason. But when a subculture feels so inaccessible the discouragement is dang near suffocating. I mean why try infiltrating a community that doesn’t even seem to want you there?
AND ANOTHER THING! I don’t know if it’s the pretension or self-righteousness in the air that produces the nonchalant act I often observe in creative third spaces, trying so painfully hard to appear cool and mysterious, but it’s killing the fun. Please stop that. If you’re goofy, be goofy. Nothing is cringe or embarrassing until you decide it is. Golly! But I digress.
I must confess that I present myself as a hypocrite before you today. I deeply understand and have experienced the desire to protect the sacred third space you’ve found after a long and grueling search for it – especially one in which you can be your unabashedly Blackity Black self in. I have found a sacred third space in Toronto that I wholeheartedly cherish and I find myself troubled when I come across a video about it that has gone viral on Toronto’s tourism instagram accounts. It’s a bittersweet feeling, being witness to the space and community you love getting the recognition they deserve, and yet, seeing the space filled with girlies sent from TikTok with no real interest in the community or culture but rather “cool and different” something to post on their story. Forgive my pessimism.
But who’s to say they aren’t also on the quest for a space outside of the clurrrbs? Am I not participating in the same toxic gatekeeping culture I previously criticized? Let’s just say… it’s contagious.
Joy comes at a high cost (sigh)
On and off substack, I’ve seen an influx in criticism – some in the form of helpful listicles of suggestions on putting oneself “out there,” and others in the form of condescending essays – directed toward Gen Z for embracing and even glamorizing introversion. Can you blame us? Not only can we barely find the places we can feel seen and safe but, ringing especially true in Toronto, social life = bank account drained. In this economy?? In this weather??
Commercial spaces do need to keep the lights on and pay the rent so this is a sticky one to argue against. Additionally, artists need and should be paid fairly. Period. So if you’re a live music lover like me, expect to pay well over $25 for a ticket to a local show.
You’ve got platforms like Timeleft that profit off the perpetual loneliness of Gen Z. Under the noble pursuit of creating opportunities for strangers to meet and potentially form lasting connections, to participate, you must pay a fee. For a one-time-dinner it averages around $16.00 or you can get a subscription. A subscription. To meet strangers. Something you can do for free at a park… just might not be as safe but equal the amount of thrill. Not only that, but you must also pay for your meal. I have yet to speak with anyone who has gone to a Timeleft dinner so I have to end my criticism of the business structure here. It could very well have led to people meeting their best friends or soulmate for all I know.
Being social is expenyyyy and the girls (me) are tired.
The Loneliness Epidemic: An incurable case?
There’s been discourse about this so-called “performative uncoolness” which is a growing online trend of young adults proudly proclaiming their love for cancelling plans, opting to stay home on a weekend, and going to bed as early as 8 pm. Critics of the trend are calling this “performance” a coping mechanism to grapple with the possibility that their life isn’t all that interesting masked under the guise of being “so fulfilled” that a thriving social life is very low on the priority list.
Some of these critiques bring up a very compelling point – that the overprojection of being a hermit and in your “grandma era” should not be pedestalled while other critiques are just straight condemning and unproductive. I’m of the mind that people can do whatever they want with their time and if they choose to spend it inside alone playing animal crossing then I don't know… leave them alone???
I’m not defending permanent or destructive self-isolation. I hold firmly to the belief and biblical truth that it is not good for man to be alone. I’m just saying, I can see why it just feels easier to settle into the cozy comforts of a domesticated life when the world outside can feel, well… rough.
Where it becomes unhealthy is the over-romanticization of ‘bed rotting’ in which one spends all day – sometimes for the entire weekend – in bed watching shows (mainly reality TV) and snacking. While this sounds like a deeply tempting way to embrace some R&R, cancelling plans and ignoring loved ones for it is maybe not what we want to do – and I say that with the utmost care and love, babygirl.
Some solutions (or not, idk)
If you’ve been blessed in this lifetime to encounter kindred spirits, then you’re in luck. Although the traditional third space is often found outside the home, to heck with the rules. The friends I’ve been so fortunate to meet and bond with over these few months are admirably talented in hosting engaging and unique gatherings in the comfort of their homes. I’ve been to a pilates princess meet-up, Halloween movie night, games night, a girl’s night where we exchanged makeup tricks all for the whopping sum of free ninety-nine. It is possible to make your own home your dream third space with the right people.
Luckily, the Art Gallery of Ontario has a free under 25 annual pass. I like to use the art gallery as a third space to invite my friends to appreciate art and sit on the couches in the middle of the room to yap about the week. It’s worth checking if your local library has a section where you can chat freely. Some have board games and the like. Setting up picnics or coffee walks with friends in a public park is also a low-cost (minus your $9 oat milk matcha) third space to frequent.
Closing thoughts
Obviously I only scratched the surface. There’s so much more at play that points to the gradual disappearance of or rather seemingly inaccessible third spaces for creatives like a lack of real estate for performance and rehearsal spaces for theatre, film, music, and dance companies. The systemic restructuring of cities that emphasize the segregation of wealthy communities and deemed poor communities. Hustle culture and survival mode in a collapsing economy that discourages downtime. Overly populated cities and crowded rooms that make it difficult to linger. Post-pandy antisocial culture is a major chess piece here. Not to mention remote work blurring the lines between workplace and home life. Social media’s virality power in over-exposing once ‘underground’ spaces as well as its ability to provide us with a false sense of connection (a digital third space, if you will) through instagram story likes is the big one.
All this to say: I don't know man I can't provide you with a viable solution. It sucks. It all really sucks. Just try to find time to spend with the people you love most. Hopefully, in the near future, the art of just “kickin’ it” for the simplicity of exactly that – existing and having fun while doing it, not a phone in sight – will be restored once more.