Here, Have a Cup of Coffee
April 7th, 2025
Photo: Erin Lee
Writer: Sophia Singh
Editor: Tessa Tacoma
My mom has a way of turning her life into a storybook, and growing up, I was always all ears. Her stories captivated my complete attention and eventually I noticed a common theme among them all - coffee. Her coffee craze may be attributed to her Eastern European descent, where coffee is the equivalent of water, or maybe it's a symbol of how cultural and memorable coffee can be. She told me how she used to see her mother invite friends over for a coffee, & enjoy the ‘real’ kind that’s rich in flavor and leaves a layer of grounds at the very bottom of the cup. My favorite story is about an old friend of hers–a lady who could read people’s futures from the way the coffee grounds settled into the bottom of the cup. It sounds silly, but she had a good reputation for her accuracy. When she looked at my mother’s leftover grounds, she predicted that my mother would travel very far and marry someone with a name that starts with the letter “I,” who wears a crown upon his head. At the time, my 15 year old mother thought that was crazy, but little did she know, it would all come to fruition. My mother did in fact move to America, and ended up married to a Sikh man whose name starts with the letter “I.” Who could guess a bunch of coffee grounds could lead to such a life?
A local coffee shop sits back in my hometown in Louisiana, called Rhino Coffee. It was founded by one of my high school’s alumni, during my older sister’s high school days, back in 2014. Even back then, it was the cool thing to go and “study” in the coffee shop with your friends. When I got to high school, it was the same. “Wanna go to Rhino?” became the equivalent to, “Wanna hang out?” It was more than just the delicious lattes and cortados being served that continued to draw crowds to this place–it was the indescribable atmosphere. It was warm, cozy and inviting. Much coffee was consumed, little studying was ever done. Now, when my friends and I are back home from college for the summer, we still go to Rhino. Even in Ann Arbor, I tend to frequent the same coffee shops. The UMMA cafe was my favorite place freshman year, and I’d sit there for hours grinding out homework, or chatting it up with friends. Looking through the glass windows and smelling the rich espresso, I’ve always found a kind of peace in every coffee shop I’ve visited. Whether it’s sipping my drink or just watching the leaves change with the seasons, it's my favorite place to slow down and enjoy the moment.
My mom used to tell me when I was younger that she couldn’t wait for the day that I finally started to like coffee, so that we could sit down together and talk about life. I didn’t start loving hot coffee until well into my sophomore year of college, when I was fed up paying $7 for a cup, and started to make my own. Because I wasn’t well versed in making iced coffee, I had to stick to hot. Now, making my morning coffee has quickly become a peaceful ritual in the mornings, to hear the drip of the coffee go into my mug and the smell fill my apartment. In some ways it’s a nod to my mother—I know she’s making her own coffee at the same time of day, so somehow, despite the 1000 mile distance, we are sharing this moment together. In other ways, it’s just a ritual that keeps me going — literally and figuratively. Coffee is so much more than a fuel source; it is nostalgic, it is comforting, and it is harmonizing.
