The Library as a Third-Place

Have you ever heard of the third-place theory? Coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg, the term refers to a physical location other than home or work where people regularly connect with others—places that offer a sense of community, belonging, and, often, a little respite from the demands of everyday life. Think Central Perk from Friends or Cheers from Cheers. These are the kinds of spots where people know your name, where casual encounters turn into lasting connections, and where you can simply exist in a shared space with others.

In an age where so much of our interaction happens online, the third-place concept has felt more elusive than ever. My life, like many others, has increasingly revolved around the walls of my home and the virtual realm of work. As a mom with young children who works from home, I quickly realized I was missing that essential, grounding connection to a larger community. There were no spontaneous chats, no brief encounters with strangers that turned into friendships—until I rediscovered our local library.

At first, it was just a quiet place to take my kids, a refuge for a few moments of calm in my otherwise chaotic day. The children’s section became our regular pit stop, where I could give my mind a brief break and let my kids dive into books and play. But before long, I began to realize that the library was offering me something more. It wasn’t just the books—it was the sense of connection.

While my children were lost in their adventures, I found myself chatting with others, browsing the shelves, and enjoying a hot coffee. It wasn’t long before the library began to feel like my third place, a sanctuary of sorts in the middle of a busy, sometimes isolating world.

When I found out about Friends of the Strathcona County Library, I was drawn to the idea of volunteering because it felt like a way to give back to the place that had given me so much: a little community, a bit of peace, and the occasional, meaningful conversation. But joining the group ended up being more than just a way to support the library—it became a deeper connection to that sense of belonging I had been craving.

Being part of Friends has been an incredibly fulfilling experience. I’ve gotten to know other volunteers, many of whom I would never have met otherwise. We laugh, talk about life, swap stories, and occasionally, discuss books. It’s this human element—the spontaneous camaraderie—that has turned the library from a simple stop in my routine into a true third place.

The power of a third place is that it offers something different from home and work—it’s a space that allows for connection without the structure or obligation of home or work. It’s a place where you can recharge, meet new people, and even find new passions. For me, that’s been taken to another level with Friends. In an increasingly digital world, the chance to reconnect in person with others in a space has been more valuable than I could have imagined.

As I volunteer with Friends of the Library, I realize how vital these spaces are for fostering connection in our communities. Libraries offer more than books—they offer relationships, shared experiences, and the quiet joy of knowing that, even in a world of constant change, there are still places where you belong. Whether you’re reading a book, having a coffee, or simply passing time.