Panther Skate Third Spaces

How Panther Skate Plaza Taught Me What Third Spaces Can Do for Our Well-Being

Thursday night is skate night. A chance to lace up my skates and be with my community.

I found Panther Skate Plaza during the isolated days of the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, when the lines between work and home had completely dissolved. My college had gone remote, like almost everything else at the time, and I was stuck in my childhood home, hundreds of miles away from my college friends. I grew up in the suburbs, where public spaces where young people could simply meet up and be together were few and far between. So when I found Panther Skate Plaza, something clicked. This was exactly what I had been longing for: a community that made me feel supported, seen, and like I belonged.

Those Thursday skate nights genuinely helped my mental health. So much so that they eventually inspired me to move to Oakland, California, to be closer to people who were deeply passionate about community and collective care. Panther Skate Plaza is so much more than just a place to hang out; it brought me to the city I live in today.

The Roots of Roller Skating Culture

Skating at a Panther Prowl means skating with history beneath your wheels.
The history of roller skating has deep roots in Black culture — and those roots were forged under pressure. During the 1940s and ‘50s era of segregation, Black skaters were denied access to indoor rinks. Barred from these spaces, they created their own. “Soul Nights” emerged as a response to exclusion. They were community-built, community-run gatherings that centered joy, resistance, and belonging all at once. Out of that defiance grew a distinctly Black skating culture that is expressive and communal. It influenced roller dance, artistic skating, and the entire social fabric of what skating means today.

That legacy didn’t end with desegregation. It lives on.

Panther Skate Plaza, located in West Oakland, carries this tradition forward. Inspired by the Black Panther Party of the 1960s and ‘70s and hosted at Bobby Hutton Park, named after a prominent Black Panther, Panther Skate Plaza is rooted in Black history and culture, and embodies the values of Black activist movements. The mission is clear: to create a safe and accessible space for roller skaters of all identities, ages, and abilities — organized by the community, for the community. It’s an intergenerational space where young people can thrive. When I pull on my skates on a Thursday night, I’m participating in something much older and much larger than myself. Skating has always been an act of community-building for Black people. At Panther, it still is. Beyond being a meetup for skaters, Panther Skate Plaza offers free snacks and groceries for the community, free skate borrowing for those who don’t have their own skates, DJs who volunteer their time to create a fun, danceable environment, and a welcoming smile and a listening ear to anyone who needs it, regardless of your age, your background, or your skating ability. Panther Skate Plaza is a place anyone can call home.

What Is a Third Space — And Why Does It Matter?

Panther Skate Plaza is what sociologist Ray Oldenburg called a third space: a social environment that exists outside of home and work (or school). Third spaces can take many forms — a park, a library, a café, a skating plaza, an open mic night. They are places where people find genuine connection with their communities, where they can simply be themselves, and where collective well-being thrives.

We’re hearing a lot about third spaces right now, and for good reason. As my colleague Val Weisler recently wrote, these spaces are becoming increasingly scarce, eliminated by policy decisions, rising costs, and a reshaping of the public landscape that has steadily narrowed access, especially for young people. Third spaces are arguably needed now more than ever. And yet they are harder and harder to find.

As our understanding of mental health expands beyond clinical treatment, third spaces represent a powerful opportunity to weave well-being into everyday life. Investing in them activates local government, public infrastructure, businesses, community organizations, and neighborhoods. It deepens connection. And it may reduce the need for downstream crisis interventions by building resilience and opportunities for support long before a crisis arrives.

What Young People Are Telling Us

To better understand how third spaces function, I set out to learn directly from young people. As part of this research process, I wanted to contribute not just my lived experience but a grounded look at how these spaces operate in Oakland. I interviewed leaders and young community members across four community organizations, each functioning as a third space in its own distinct way. What I found confirmed what I had already experienced for myself on Thursday nights: third spaces are essential infrastructure for well-being.

Oakland to All is a collaborative that fosters an inclusive space for the Bay Area ballroom community. What emerged clearly from conversations with their community was the profound impact of chosen family. Young community members who face marginalization, homophobia, transphobia, or financial insecurity turn to the ballroom community, where they form a chosen family of mentors and peer relationships where they can feel understood and supported through hard times. Community members also named a need for mental health resources and basic crisis support training, a reminder that emotional safety and practical safety go hand in hand. Notably, leaders were operating at full capacity, signaling that these spaces need more support, not just recognition.

Gold Beams produces events made for Black creatives and people who love Black art, including Second Mondays, an open mic for Black artists, rappers, performers, and comedians. What makes Gold Beams particularly powerful is how it creates space for conversations that simply don’t happen elsewhere. Art becomes a container for topics that are otherwise avoided — grief, joy, struggle, identity. Gold Beams started in an apartment – without a business plan, a budget, or a venue. That small seed of support grew into something big and meaningful. It’s a signal to others that starting small and building as you go can work!

Play 2 Win Social is a Bay Area organization that creates spaces for connection that aren’t parties but rather events catered toward young Black professionals, creatives, and entrepreneurs. Their structured activities are designed to spark new connections among people who wouldn’t otherwise meet. What’s emerged is something unexpected. Play 2 Win has become a community incubator. People who meet at their events go on to form their own communities: basketball teams, book clubs, and even friendships. Third spaces go beyond holding community: they generate it.

Building the Spaces We Deserve

Panther Skate Plaza gave me community during one of the loneliest periods of my life. It gave me a reason to move to a new city. It gives me the feeling of support, and not by a therapist or an app, but by people who simply show up to skate together.

The research backs up what I experienced. Third spaces build social connection. They foster belonging. They provide emotional support. They are environments for well-being. And they are disappearing — not because communities don’t want them, but because the systems around them don’t fully grasp their true value.

So, as we think about building a thriving future for young people, let’s think more intentionally about third spaces.

How can the environments in Oakland (and other cities) be shaped to support well-being? When creating or using a space, what design choices can help it truly achieve its goals?

The answer starts with recognizing that spaces like Panther Skate Plaza, Gold Beams, or Oakland to All aren’t accidents. They are acts of intention, of love, of community organizing. They deserve our investment and our protection.

Author Highlight

Jayla Stokesberry

As a Research Assistant, Jayla provides support in the organization and implementation of Hopelab’s various research projects. She is a recent graduate of UCLA and holds a BS in Cognitive Science with a Specialization in Computing. During her time in college, she advocated for Black LGBTQ+ students for three years as the president of the student organization BlaQue. Outside of Hopelab, Jayla enjoys roller skating, fashion, and learning new.