My attempt at re-creating Golden Age Greece or Renaissance Florence in a college apartment.

Every Tuesday night for two years, 30 to 50 people showed up at my college apartment.

They went on to do some pretty incredible things together. Building rockets. Joining the Peace Corps. Dropping out to start companies. Joining those companies. Becoming full-time writers. Etc.

When I look back on that time, it feels like magic in the air. It was probably the most impactful thing I did during college.

And yet, it was also the easiest.

I still host jam sessions sometimes.

Here's the story.

How it all began

In 2022, I moved to Madrid.

A few weeks in, I started hearing smooth jazz drifting up through my floor at night. Muffled conversation. Laughter. It was coming from the apartment below.

One afternoon, my roommate ran into our downstairs neighbor outside the apartment, a guy named Ricardo. Ricky mentioned he ran a little speakeasy in his place. Invited us to stop by sometime.

That Sunday, I stood outside his door. I could hear the music through the walls. My hand hovered over the doorknob for a second. That familiar pit in my stomach - walking into a room full of strangers, not knowing anyone, wondering if I'd just stand awkwardly in the corner nursing a drink.

I opened the door.

Warm amber light. The smell of whiskey and old leather. A saxophone riff curling through the air.

And then, eye contact. Not the "who the hell are you?" kind. The "oh hey, glad you made it" kind. A woman near the bar gave me a small nod and a smile. An older guy by the window nodded over to the jazz band with “pretty good, eh?” smile. And Ricky came in with a big hug. Welcome.

The knot in my chest loosened.

I grabbed a drink and found a spot on the couch. And here's the thing: I didn't even need to talk to anyone yet. Just sitting there, listening to the music, watching people lean into conversations... the room itself felt good. I wasn't performing. I was just there.

Eventually, someone sat down next to me. We started talking. I don't remember what I said - probably some half-baked idea I'd been chewing on. But instead of the polite nod you usually get, they leaned in. Asked a question that made me think harder. Then someone else joined. Then another.

Before I knew it, I was in the thick of it. Ideas bouncing around. People genuinely curious about what I was saying, and I was genuinely curious about them. No small talk about what I "do." No posturing. Just... flow.

I looked at my phone at some point - three hours had passed! Three hours that felt like twenty minutes.

I walked back upstairs in a daze. Brain still firing. Thinking: What the hell was that?

I kept going back. Every week, El Noviciado became my second home. Every time, I left more energized. More connected to myself. More open.

A few months later, I had to leave Madrid. I was sad to say goodbye to Ricky and that little jazz-filled room.

But I moved back to the States with one mission: recreate that feeling.

Recreating the jam sesh

Back at school, I started simple. I wrote down a list of the most curious people I knew. Then I picked a Tuesday night and sent out a text: "Come over at 8pm. Got some people you’d love to meet.”

Seven people showed up to that first one. All friends I'd collected from different corners of my life - one from the gym, one from my business frat, one from random classes, and even a stranger I met earlier that day.

We talked for three hours straight. Same vibe as El Noviciado. Everyone left energized, open, buzzing with new ideas. New friendships formed on the spot.

I thought, Huh. That worked.

The next week, I invited a few more people from the list. Same thing. Same outcome. People started to feel the magic.

I realized pretty quickly: This is something really special.

So I kept doing it. Every Tuesday my junior year. Most Tuesdays senior year. Aidan and I even hosted a retreat with some of the core people.

I could feel the magic, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why it was working. I just knew it was the thread to pull on.

The bigger picture

Here's where it got interesting.

People weren't just leaving more connected to each other. They were leaving wiser. They'd come in with half-baked ideas and leave with clarity. They started acting in more trusting, open, and honest ways. They stopped bullshitting themselves.

I realized: This isn't just a fun social outlet. This is a cultivated environment where people come in and leave a little bit smarter.

And that felt... relevant.

Because right now, America feels like the opposite. It's a system where people come in and leave stupider.

Society is acting like a poopy-pantsed four-year-old who just dropped its ice cream. Nobody listens. Everyone's tribal. Strong opinions with weak foundations. Trust, the critical currency of a healthy society, is disintegrating. On top of that, we're lonely, depressed, isolated. We've drifted away from the nuanced, thoughtful discussion that helped our founding fathers build something beautiful. We've drifted away from genuine human connection.

That's a problem. Especially right now. Especially with the amount of technology and leverage we have.

These technologies could give us an unfathomably awesome future. Kids becoming geniuses regularly. People doing exactly what they love. Solving disease, poverty, climate change within our lifetimes. Going to new planets.

But the same technology has opened Pandora's boxes: rapidly advancing AI, cyber warfare, autonomous weapons, nukes. The future could also be unfathomably catastrophic.

With stakes this high, we'd want to be our wisest selves.

So I started asking: How do we change America from a box where people leave stupider to one where they leave wiser?

I looked back at history. There were societies where people did leave wiser. Golden Age Greece gave us democracy and philosophy. Renaissance Florence gave us world-changing art. Enlightenment Philadelphia gave us blueprints to build modern nations. Ptolemaic Alexandria gave us the wheel and counting systems.

What did those societies have in common?

The secret sauce of great societies

(s/o Tim Urban’s book for inspo here)

If you catch yourself being low-rung, don't scold yourself. Just notice it. Then start climbing.

And with Jam Sessions, you can do this on a micro scale.

Here's the interesting part: If you can create these environments within communities of people who are already building things—founders, artists, policymakers, researchers—the ripple effects multiply. These are people with leverage. When they leave a bit wiser, a bit more connected, a bit more trusting, they take that back to their companies, their art, their policies. The impact compounds.

That's where things get asymmetric.

How to start your own

So how do you actually do this? All you need is:

• Curious, open people in a beautiful space
• Regular cadence (once a month works)
• A common cultural code that moves toward the one above

Everything else falls into place. People leave smarter. People leave energized. And they take that energy out into the world.

I plan to create Jam Session environments wherever I go. I hope you do too.

All it takes is three curious friends and an invite to hang out.

That's it.

- L

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