It’s how our parents and grandparents built strong communities. Today’s youth can revive that spirit to restore and strengthen their sense of belonging.

Originally published in print and online by The Straits Times on 29th December 2024.

We often see the iconic black barbershop culture in the United States depicted in movies. People of different generations gathering in a lively atmosphere of loud conversations on anything from politics to the personal. It’s not just a trim that draws the crowd.

Throughout 20th-century America, these shops not only provided economic opportunities but also served as safe havens for activism and cultural dialogue, influencing trends like hip-hop. Such third places have been key to community building.

Previous generations in Singapore were drawn to their own little sanctuaries between the home and the workplace. I could see for myself how my parents and grandparents built relationships just by showing up at their third places like neighbourhood gathering spots.

When my grandmother took me to art class or piano lessons, we would often stop at a nearby park to chat with the neighbourhood aunties and children. 

My father, who grew up in the heart of Chinatown, often shares lively stories about his family’s provision shop in Sago Street. People, he would say, didn’t just stop by for groceries and leave. They’d hang out and shoot the breeze. 

It was, as he describes it, kampung spirit at its best.

Coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg, the concept of a “third place” refers to informal social settings that foster community outside of the home (the first place) and workplace or school (the second place). Such third places could be cosy cafes, neighbourhood parks or beloved bookstores – environments where the pressure to consume is minimal and familiar faces contribute to a shared experience. 

It’s a feeling I’ve come to miss in recent years. And a stark contrast to the disconnected and lonely moments I experience scrolling through social media, where digital connections feel forced and fleeting. 

It’s not easy finding that sense of comfort and belonging on Instagram or any other social platform, where interactions often feel one-sided and the constant stimulation mind-numbing.

A silent pandemic among youth

It’s not just me. The younger generation is dealing with a so-called loneliness epidemic. 

Just last November, the World Health Organisation declared loneliness a “pressing health threat” and launched a commission to foster more social connection. In 2023, a Meta-Gallup survey revealed that nearly one in four adults globally reported feeling very or fairly lonely. The rates of loneliness were highest in young adults aged 19 to 29. 

Closer to home, a survey by the Institute of Policy Studies (IPS) covering 2,356 Singapore residents found that younger people – those aged 21 to 34 – are more likely to report higher levels of social isolation and loneliness. 

Many of us crave something deeper – a genuine sense of community that can’t be fully nurtured online. The need for a third place that has been so important in the lives of our parents and grandparents has never felt more urgent,especially for those of my generation struggling to navigate modern life.

No, it’s not just about going to a cosy Instagrammable cafe where we’re immersed in our laptops and lattes, and the noise serves as a background score just to remind us that there’s life out there.

These are the places beyond our homes, workplaces and schools, like coffee shops and community centres, where real connections can flourish. Where strangers become familiar, and then friends. Where people wonder about our absence. Where we gradually build a sense of belonging and a community that was never there.

While the curated nature of online platforms can leave us feeling isolated, despite being “connected”, it’s these tangible places that are crucial for us to make social connections, recognise our physical self and nurture our mental health.

From ‘let’s meet up’ to ‘let’s DM’

Instead of showing up in person, it might be that young people today simply feel more comfortable making connections online.

This is a shift intensified by the Covid-19 pandemic, which convinced many from my generation that they don’t need to be physically present to stay connected.

A friend of mine told me that he prefers socialising online instead of meeting up in person. He pointed out that digital interactions on platforms such as Discord fit seamlessly into his busy routine, and there’s no real need to carve out time for face-to-face connections.

Even when we make the effort to show up in person, we’re not always really there. I can’t count the number of times I’ve met friends at a cafe, only to catch myself mindlessly scrolling through social media or checking work emails. We may be in the same space, but our minds are somewhere else entirely. 

The physical third places may still be there, but the culture of spending time there seems to have declined, leaving fewer opportunities for a genuine – let alone random – connection with others. 

Reclaiming the kampung spirit 2.0

This is why for Gen Z-ers like myself, reclaiming the culture of visiting third places is more than a nostalgic exercise – it’s about building resilience and social bonds. 

Studies show that face-to-face interactions are crucial for mental health, and third places, which allow for casual, low-pressure conversations, are among the few places where organic, unplanned encounters can happen. 

So how can we reclaim these vital places in our lives? First, we must recognise their importance. We can support local businesses, patronise independent cafes and advocate for the preservation of public parks and libraries. 

Thismight also mean putting down our phones and showing up – attending local events, volunteering or sitting in a park with the intention of being present. These small acts can help us rebuild the social fabric fraying in our digital-first world.

No doubt there are online friend groups, gaming communities or fandoms where people feel accepted and part of a community. But these platforms lack the qualities that make third places so important, like sharing impromptu moments and engaging in real-time conversations. 

The absence of in-person communication strips away many social cues – body language, tone of voice and eye contact – that are crucial for building trust and empathy. These cues are often what help us truly connect with others, but in a virtual world, they’re lost.

This is why entrepreneur Grace Ann Chua co-founded Friendzone, a social enterprise dedicated to connecting communities through conversation. She told me she was inspired to host events where people of all ages can come together and make new friends. 

I really admire Grace’s intentional effort to create a safe space where people can bridge social gaps and forge real, lasting connections through in-person meet-ups. Maybe it’s time for more young people to step up and take ownership of bringing that kind of culture back.

Our generation has the power to reshape how we connect with one another. If we can balance our digital lives with real world interactions, we just might bring these endangered third places back to life – maybe even form our generation’s own version of kampung spirit.