Is Taunton Brewhouse Your Third Place?

I mainly work from home.  Like so many people now, my dining room table doubles as my desk, my laptop is never far away, and whole days can pass with very little real-life conversation just lots of emails and Instagram messages. Working from home definitely has its perks (good coffee, no travel, connection with my family, balancing being a mum), but it’s also made me think a lot about something called a “third place.”

The phrase was coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg, who described third places as the spaces that aren’t home (our first place) or work (our second place), but somewhere we gather, connect and feel part of something bigger.

Cafés, libraries, pubs, community centres and art groups are places where conversation flows, and you see familiar faces. Where you don’t have to host, perform or achieve; you can just be and relax.  For me, Taunton Brewhouse is both my work and my third place.

Yes, I’m there professionally, but it’s also where I bump into people in the box office, hear laughter drifting out of a workshop room, see someone quietly working in the foyer, or proudly showing off something they’ve just made. There’s a gentle buzz to it, a sense of shared purpose and a feeling that we are creating a community together.  When I say “the Brewhouse” in conversation, that’s what I mean, it’s not just a building, but that atmosphere.

It’s also why I think the LEARN programme matters so much in our current society.  On the surface, it’s about learning a skill; trying something new, improving technique, making progress. But underneath that, something more human is happening, people sit side by side and chat while their hands are busy. They laugh about first attempts that didn’t quite go to plan and encourage each other to try again. They come back the following week and recognise faces, book something new and look forward to visiting again.

It becomes familiar, welcoming, it becomes a third place.

We are living in a time where community doesn’t just happen by accident as it once did. Many of us work remotely and our social lives are squeezed between busy schedules (if we manage to have one at all with little kids and demanding work). We are more digitally connected than ever, but that doesn’t always translate into real belonging.

Third places don’t shout for attention, they grow quietly and are built week by week, conversation by conversation.  I see that happening in our workshop rooms and studio, in the chats in the foyer between parents waiting to collect children from a music or dance class, in the walk back to the bus stop together after an art class.

I feel very lucky that, for me, Taunton Brewhouse is not just where I work — it’s also where I connect, learn, and feel part of something bigger.  Maybe that’s the quiet magic of it.