I have actually been sitting on this blog post for quite a while, because it’s a little self-indulgent and I’m not sure that the industry needs to hear this story, but sometimes when I’m having a conversation with a young barista I think, yeah, yeah why not share this one. So, in honor of Seattle’s second offering of the BGA Level 1 exam this weekend (you know I’ll be there), I thought I would post it after all.
In 2006, I started working in coffee. When I started, as lowly cashier in a busy New York cafe, I decided I would plunge head first into a coffee career. I had already worked for two years in coffee, back in high school at JavaBean espresso in Seattle Washington and in college in Cambridge, Massachusetts, but this time I was going to take the coffee business more seriously.
I had learned how to make espresso before, and in 2002, when I returned to Seattle after dropping out of college, I thought I had the barista craft down pat. I mean, I could pour latte art! I was nice to customers. What more could Cafes want from me? So, after a dozen or so attempts at Seattle’s great cafes, I gave up. No way was I going to barback, or just cashier if I already had been trained. I would go on to forget it and get a “real” job in corporate retail.
When I came back to coffee in 2006, I had changed. My mind was open and I was ready to learn. I cupped coffee for the first time (it was terrifying!), and got my first formal training from a coffee educator. The training was really where I got excited, because it was time dedicated to my craft and a constant state of improvement.
Still, in our cafe and in the cafes I’ve worked at since then, it’s been hard to measure what a “good” barista is. One way we measure baristas is by evaluating their performance at competitions. So I competed, in 2008. I was more terrified than when I cupped coffee, and my showing, in my mind, showed my limitations as a barista (really, I placed 10th which is not bad at all considering the myriad obstacles in my way. Competitors, you know what I’m talking about). I had lots of friends in the industry by that time, and they helped me drown my sorrows at the abject failure I considered myself to be.
Another way the industry measures a successful barista is by time on the job, or commitment. The challenge with this barista culture, though, is that baristas (like myself before I founded TampTamp) who are serious and passionate are going to blast through a lot of places before they find the right fit. Maybe they are entrepreneurs dying to open their own shops or baristas who want to become the One True Barista to a money-backed outside investor (a tempting prey to which all serious baristas, at one point or another, will fall victim to.). Whatever their lot in life, a huge desire to become the best, to eat sleep live breathe coffee has overcome them. But how do you put that on a resume without looking totally crazy?
The answer lies in a professional certification like the BGA exam. Something that is nationally recognized, transferrable, and not dependent on whether or not you like to compete. Something else that says, “I’m not just crazy and obsessed with phenolic acid. I have actually learned something and know my craft. Not only that, but I can also use this experience to speak the same language with other baristas about my craft.”
The exam in its current state is by no means perfect, and it certainly isn’t cool. But is the actual process of getting a drivers license really cool? Just go there, in your mind, to the DMV. Visualize what it was like to take the written, and then the practical. Not very cool, probably actually very uncomfortable.
But when you were 16, you were brave, and you did it. Then what? You got to drive. You got to share a common experience with your friends who were liscenced, and prepare those who weren’t. Except for those of you who went in to racing, no competition measured your skills as a driver. Sure, some of you were and are better drivers, but you never used that as measuring stick against your friends.
That’s why I believe in the BGA exam, and why I give it as often as people ask if they can take it. The certification can become a far superior measurement of professional development than competition, in which we must determine where the arbitrary line exists that says “you are a barista of quality.” is it the top 10 (whew, 2008 me made it)? What about top 6 (uh-oh)? What about good baristas that have bad days? Or ones that never feel the need to compete at all?
To be sure, the USBC has it’s rightful place at the top of tracks for professional development. Those baristas that compete at the highest level deserve every ounce of credit they receive – they work their asses off and make huge investments to get there. That is noble, and the industry has benefitted greatly from the program’s success, most notably by pushing the boundaries of industry standards and causing an exciting feedback loop within the advancing industry.
But you don’t start driving NASCAR without getting your drivers license, and now it’s time for all of us to line up at the DMV. Because if we truly believe we are putting our best possible products (this means, for example, pulling shots to an agreed to industry standard) out for customers, with a smile and with a willingness to share, getting through level 1 certification should be easy.
If it’s not, it’s important to remember that I was once in your place, adamant I knew everything about espresso, when in fact I had barely scratched the surface. Coffee can be a lifelong pursuit of knowledge if you choose that path, but it’s so important to remember that you will never learn it all. The BGA certification will help you check your rear-view mirrors, parallel park, and back around a corner. That will set you on a path for success in specialty coffee, and help you understand the yardstick by which specialty coffee is measured.