Hi! I’m Lisa, your friendly neighborhood barista. Since I write most of the content for this website, I decided it would be a good idea to write my own profile (for some reason). I apologize in advance for the awkwardness of the situation I put us in, so sit back with a delicious, full-bodied, and fresh-pressed cup of coffee, and listen to me ramble about my life for a bit.

When I came to Iowa City in the fall of 2007 to attend the University of Iowa, I knew I wanted to pursue something creative. That was about all I had figured out, but I also knew what I didn’t want: a repetitive, boring life that fit the mold and served only as a means to an end. While taking classes and feeling wholly unprepared to be on my own, I stumbled upon roller derby.

In January of 2009, I came back to Iowa City after a restless winter break, motivated to take charge of my life. I had three goals upon returning: find a job, get a gym membership, and join the Old Capitol City Roller Girls. I grew up a bit of a tomboy with a healthy competitive side, and missed the strength and power I felt as an athlete in my youth. Seeing as there are few opportunities after high school for women to play sports in a highly competitive arena, let alone in a full-contact manner, I jumped at the chance to strap on a pair of roller skates and give it a try. What I didn’t realize was how valuable the endeavor would be in teaching me skills (on and off the track) and making new friends, or that it would become the driving force in my life for nearly a decade.

While going to roller derby practice twice a week and attending classes full-time, I also picked up a part-time job making coffee at T-Spoons. I had previously dabbled as a barista at a Barnes and Noble in Des Moines, but this time around I got to experience the communal feel of a locally owned shop and not a corporate chain. At the time there were two locations: T1 was tucked away in a corner of the Old Capitol Mall, and T2 was a much larger space on Market Street with floor to ceiling windows. I preferred working at the latter which was jam-packed full of studiers and memorable locals and allowed space to focus on craft, not assembly; connections, not just service.

By the time I graduated from college, I worked my way up to more responsibility at T-Spoons while a revolving door of 18-20-year-olds continued to pass me by. It felt like it was time to go out in the world and find that “big-kid job” that I still didn’t feel prepared for. Meanwhile, I was collaborating with a dozen women to learn and improve at a sport that was still in its infancy while also organizing large scale events about once a month. Oh, and creating and running the entire business side of derby. Anyone with vague expertise in marketing, coaching, accounting, leadership, etc, was put in charge of that task for the league, but we all were just making it up as we went along.

On the news, roller derby was always framed as this fun hobby that allowed women to step away from their apron/suit/diaper bag, make up a tough and sexy alter ego, and be free in a way their daily life restricted. While that analysis was vaguely correct, to me roller derby felt more like a safe space that allowed me to toss aside the mask we all wear to survive in the real world. For a few hours a week, we left behind our stressful and needy lives and entered an alternate one where we felt more comfortable in our own skin. For some, the two worlds weren’t so different while others kept them distinctly separate. Left 4 Deadwards started out as a forced persona I made for myself, but eventually, the main difference anyone might have noticed was whether or not I had skates on. The years I played derby were fun and hard and messy, but a transformative time that I am grateful to have had. As a microcosm of the real world, roller derby as a place of comfort wasn’t necessarily a universal experience, the sport had its share of problems and drama, but it seemed like a step in the direction of living life on my own terms.

In the thick of it, roller derby felt like the end all be all of what I wanted to do with my life. I spent hours daydreaming how I could make it my full-time job or at least the center of my world while making a living on the side, but try doing that with your slow-pitch softball team and see how far you get. Some lucky skaters did seem to find a way towards that dream by opening skate shops or just being so good at the sport that people around the world paid them to coach, but it was another dream too broad and unattainable for me. Along the way, however, I leaned into female friendships in ways I would have avoided in the past. I discovered a voice in me that wanted to express itself. I found strength that not only motivated me to push hard on the track but to build something with my own hands.

My “big-kid job” as a production assistant for the morning news was also an enlightening experience, but an exhausting one. Getting up before the sun (after a late-night practice of course) and driving forty minutes to get to work by 4 a.m. took its toll on me in more ways than one. In comparison, getting up to sling coffee would be sleeping in. By 2014, I had started coaching new derby recruits, including Katie Ford, and she hired me on at Press Coffee when I felt desperate to quit my job. She was more affectionately known as Duck Hunt on the track, and our relationship up until that point was one with me as her coach. Now, by day she would be my boss and by night I was teaching her how to block.

During the hiring process, Katie discovered we were both born on the same day, one of many similarities. She was the same age as Sarah, my older sister, but Katie and I shared the numerically pleasing birth date of 11-22. We both repeatedly watch Friends and Gilmore Girls, love to thrift, enjoy crafting, and both learned the coffee trade during college and found ourselves revisiting that barista life.

I stayed at Press for a few years and continued to play roller derby, however, my enthusiasm for it was waning. Too many responsibilities kept falling in my lap (okay, maybe I put them there) and I was burnt out. Feeling stuck, I took a year off but that didn’t recharge my batteries in the way I hoped. I returned to the track and tried to do less and skate more but could tell this part of my life wasn’t going to be around for the long run. In search of answers and new scenery, I took a year off Iowa and lived with Sarah and her husband (and adorably weird cats) in Florida. It was a great experience, and I’m grateful I got to spend more time with them and my brother, but I missed the Midwest.

Katie welcomed me back at the shop with open arms, I was officially done with roller derby, and life looked a little bit shinier again. After I was only back a month, it was Ben’s turn to pack up and move across the country, so Katie offered me his position as manager (aka Assistant to the Regional Manager). I took on more responsibility for the day to day operations of the shop and felt I could really put some of my creative inclinations to work. Katie had the business side of things covered which meant I could take on the marketing side of the business. All of my self-taught website, writing, and Photoshop skills from derby days came in handy. I continued the inclusion of local artists that Ben started, even encouraging Press staff to show off their own talents. I saw how many ways coffee could bring people together and was bursting with ideas about events and promotions.

The pandemic has put some of the social aspects of coffee on hold, but with every new thing 2020 throws at us, it seems people do always come back to coffee. Essential workers who worked overtime were ecstatic to discover we were still open for pick up after Spring break. Frankly, we were too, but Hannah approached us with the Jump Coffee app just prior to the lockdown and it kept us afloat through the peak of social distancing. When the derecho hit, the shop was up and running the next day and the reality of the storm’s destruction became clear when desperate people started coming through the door looking for electricity, WIFI, and a cup of coffee. Whatever your favorite drink is; black coffee, vanilla latte, green tea, chai latte, it’s your daily routine. A buddy by your side day in and day out. So if you find yourself working from home or have a tree branch through the ceiling, being able to go around the corner and pick up a cup of comfort and familiarity is more healing than you might think.

I admit, this year crushed my spirit a little bit, but I’m ready to convert this restless energy into something more productive. Katie and I aren’t like our peers who are getting married or raising kids, but instead, we are taking on a business together and I can’t wait to tell you more about it. (Is there such thing as a baby shower if the baby is a business??)