I Took a Podcast Class for a $150 Stipend
Like many post-graduates, I felt an immediate drop in the sense of community once I graduated from university. So, like many others, I’ve been on a constant search for a ‘third place.’
“Third Places” has become a buzzword in recent years, originally coined by sociologist Ray Oldenburg in his 1989 book The Great Good Place. It refers to an informal setting between home life and work life that fosters community—such as coffee shops, libraries, and similar spaces. My search for a third place has also been defined by cost-effectiveness, which makes the search more difficult, as it excludes expensive pilates classes or frequenting a specific coffee shop. Still, it allowed me to be creative in my search; for example, taking an inexpensive ceramics and sewing class at a recreation center, though the latter course was canceled after two weeks due to low enrollment.
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Nothing quite compared to the sense of community built into university life, where we were all driven by a shared motivation—whether it was earning a degree, the cost of education, building a future career, or something else. The interests I pursued weren’t as motivated by cost because they were hobbies and hobbies, unfortunately, often end up at the bottom of the priority list.
Not long after the sewing course was canceled, I attended the opening night of a play with my dad. We happened to run into his friend, a co-founder of the Media Arts Center, who encouraged me to check out more of their programs. Funnily enough, that same weekend, he posted about a Media Arts program for people interested in podcasting, beat-making, or film composing, offering them a $150-$200 stipend. The program was created in partnership with UCSD to immerse young people in the arts, though it welcomed a wide range of ages. I applied, and the following week, I found myself in a library-turned-podcast studio with about 15 other participants, ages ranging from 14 to 63.
Photo by Elena Sanchez
The class was straightforward, we’d meet for four hours every Saturday for a month. The first two weeks were dedicated to learning how to execute a podcast from start to finish, and the last two were spent creating our own. Everyone was there for different reasons: some to have a new creative outlet, others were already working in audio, and a few openly admitted they were there for the stipend.
For a practice round, I was paired with two people, Mary and Tony, and we stayed in this group for the final project. Mary was 33, Tony was 63, and I’m 23, so it was interesting that we each happened to be in the third year of our respective decades. It was comforting to be in a space where our ages could range so much. The last time I had been in that kind of space was before transferring to university when I was at community college. It was something I missed about community college, the ability to meet people you wouldn’t get the chance to engage with deeply regularly.
We each pitched different ideas for the project. Mine was about predicting the next big talent across various entertainment industries, Tony focused on healthcare, and Mary explored generational differences in dating. We all agreed Mary’s was the most interesting, offering a topic that we could all weigh in on from different viewpoints.
We drafted our responses to the main question of the project: How is dating different for you depending on your generation? During the planning process, Tony had some of the most vivid ideas, talking about the differences between dating in Mexico versus the United States and explaining various marriage types, specifically “se la robaron” and “rapto.” The former refers to a boyfriend and girlfriend agreeing to flee to the house of the boyfriend’s family members, while the latter refers to a girl being taken against her will and forced to marry. Tony told colorful stories from his youth— spending time at the cantina, asking girls out via the radio, and tales about paseos. Paseos were when single youths in Mexico walked around in a circle in the central plaza. Boys and girls walk in opposite directions with their friends until a boy stops a girl and offers her a flower. If she continues holding the flower for the next pass, she has accepted the boy’s invitation and on the third pass, the boy will talk to her. His stories were something I looked forward to each week, knowing there’d always be something to add to our outline.
Photo by CoWomen
Mary and I mainly discussed dating apps, endless dating advice on TikTok, and the impact of social media therapists on decision-making in dating. Mary touched on how millennials didn’t grow up with dating apps in the same way as Gen Z but still experience the effects of them. Many millennials who had been in long-term relationships found themselves returning to a completely different dating landscape—one where the dating pool seemingly shrinks with each passing age bracket.
Then it was time to record. Mary and I were eager to hear Tony’s stories from the planning process but with each take we did, he would give straightforward, brief answers. We tried multiple takes, leaving room for his stories, but to no avail. Finally, while he was mid-story off-camera, we convinced him to recap just a bit into the microphone. It was a great take and funny too (we even added a laugh track at one point) and we used it in the final cut. With that, we were done with the class, our final project being around seven minutes.
The experience reminded me of a quote from actress Lauren Graham, “An older friend will tell you you have plenty of time yet, and a younger friend will make you forget time altogether because when you're with them you'll feel, even for a moment, that you're the exact same age.” Although I was the younger one in the scenario, I still felt as if I were the same age as these people because a class setting does that. In community college, I usually didn’t think about age as much, as it was the norm for group partners to be ten years older. But for a moment, you’re all in the same headspace, learning something new, so wholeheartedly devoted to a project that you forget that you’re spending your Saturday afternoon at the library. Giving up one of the two days most people get off is always a hard ask and a testament to how committed the members of the course were. It gave me that feeling of community I’d been searching for, even if just for a month.
Even though the course didn’t provide a long-term solution to my search for a third place, it helped me realize that third places can be defined as much by action as by a frequent or permanent setting. Third places are always changing. A coffee shop will have different baristas and customers, the yoga class will have people who drop out after a week, and so on. Through the course, I realized that I’ll always love learning with others and building a new skill. I enjoy being in a space where we can all start something without fear of failing. This realization makes me feel more prepared to find a third place that embraces this, to know what kind of fulfillment I’m seeking. The good news is that learning can come in so many forms, whether through academics, reading, or building a hobby. It’s an interest I know I can take with me wherever I go next.