RE:Wired
A coffee house story.
20 years ago a little non-profit started with a simple goal: give kids a place to go. All the kids who are pierced, tattooed, fallen and fallen again, who were crossed off the list and had doors shut in their faces. Yeah, those kids. Give them a place to go. Maybe a small, dingy place in the bottom of a forgotten building in a forgotten neighborhood. Let them dance and mosh and wear leather jackets even in the middle of July.
That was the first Coffee House. We grew up there. It made us who we are today. Maybe you remember it. Maybe you were one of those kids and now (eek!) you have kids yourself who are looking for a place to go.
Over the years, the Coffee House grew up. It moved to a new neighborhood, a new building, and literally became…a coffeehouse. New kids came. Some to actually drink coffee. Some to crowd into the basement and make the second generation venue their very own. Some to make that coffee.
Then the coffeehouse grew a little more. Into a new a building. A big building. An almost too-big building. And like things that grow up, it faced some pain and more than a few obstacles. Like many kids who had ducked into the crowded cellar of a club so many years ago, the little non-profit was taking some hits, was feeling down and out, was learning some lessons.
But. Failure/mistakes/struggles are not final. Not for those kids, not for us, and not for anyone who walks through our doors.
20 years later, that little non-profit is still a little non-profit, but it has a bigger building and the bathrooms don’t leak anymore. The attitude is still the same: open the doors, come in, here is the place to go.

