By Megan Lamont
Nestled on the corner of Adams and Hightower in Peoria’s Warehouse District sits something of a millennial’s heaven. A crisp, minimalist coffee house with a succulent plant at every table. When the sun rises, the light reflects off the white walls in a way that almost blinds you while you sip your morning coffee.
Zion Coffee Company began in 2012 as an experiment in downsizing for Mike and Banu Hatfield. After the death of Mike’s mother, the couple began to question the meaning of their own lives. Both had successful corporate careers at Caterpillar; Mike worked in data analytics and Banu was a sales manager.
“What we did goes against much of what society tells us. More, more, more.” Banu says. “But the size of our house, the types of cars we drove, those things don’t leave a legacy when you’re gone.”
With their five children, they moved to a smaller home with the goal of living more simply; specifically, they wanted to pay off their debts. Serendipitously, while traveling for work in Boston, Mike stumbled across a coffee conference. He met a young Yale graduate who had sold everything and quit his job in order to pursue the fair-trade coffee business. Bringing his knowledge back to Peoria, the Hatfield’s bought their own espresso machine to save money. Then they realized they could save even more by roasting the beans themselves. The next thing they knew, they were selling their coffee at farmer’s markets and catering local events.
This was in 2013. Four years later, they took a leap of faith by moving their growing business from online to in-store. With no prior experience in the coffee industry and no partners, the Hatfield’s poured their life savings into leasing and renovating the building that is now home to Zion. Surprisingly, this historic building once served a very different purpose: an adult video store.
“When we walked in there, I could not visualize turning it into a coffee shop,” Banu laughs. “It had no windows and nasty green carpet… But Mike walked in and said ‘Yep, this is the place.’”
The Hatfield’s transformed the dingy porn shop into a space designed not just to serve coffee, but to serve a community. While quality coffee and freshly baked goods bring people in, Banu knows that it is the culture of Zion that will keep people coming back. Her definition of this culture can be summarized in four terms: kindness, curiosity, optimism, and pissing excellence.
“Pissing excellence is a term my husband coined,” she says. “Well, he heard it in a movie or something. But one day a few years ago, he sat the whole family down and said ‘2015 is the year the Hatfield’s will piss excellence.’ And it just sort of stuck.”
In the simplest terms, pissing excellence means Zion strives to be the best at what it does: serving good coffee and bringing people together. Anyone who works there needs to buy into the idea that it’s not just about the coffee.
“Zion has turned me into more of a people person,” barista Mati Hill says. Hill is a longtime friend the Hatfield’s oldest twin daughters and has been with Zion since 2013. “I’ve met so many inspiring people — both coworkers and customers.”
Frequent customer Molly Paterson says the environment of Zion continues to draw her in. “Even when it’s packed, it never feels chaotic. It’s got a calming atmosphere, and everyone who works there greets you with a smile. I recognize the same faces over and over.”
Twenty-one-year-old Liz Hatfield, the only child to regularly work at the store, says working with her parents has both pros and cons.
“It’s good because we are all so close. We can bounce ideas off each other and offer criticism. On the other hand, sometimes we end up talking about work even when we’re at home, and that can be frustrating. Everyone needs a break sometimes.”
Liz was recently promoted to a shift manager. She also stepped into her mother’s shoes for a brief period when Banu traveled to Turkey for her mother’s funeral. Both of Banu’s parents passed away within three months of each other.
“That’s why kindness is so important,” Banu says. “You never know what type of day someone is having before they walk through the door.”
She speaks at length about both of her parents. She was raised in Istanbul with her older brother. Her mother was a teacher and her father was a general in the military. Banu attended college in Belgium before moving to the United States 26 years ago.
“I’m going to try to tell you this without getting emotional,” she says with a soft smile. “My parents taught me that education is the best investment you can make in your life. And I feel very fortunate for the opportunities they gave me because I know not all girls have that.”
She sees her passion for gender equality in education interwoven with the mission of Zion. When people buy coffee, it allows the company to purchase more from their suppliers in Guatemala or Nicaragua. Spreading wealth to the farming families in these communities, she believes, allows young girls to attend school instead of working in the fields.
“Sometimes I think about the one girl that gets to go to school because we chose to invest our savings and work hard to build this,” she says. “That makes it worth it, don’t you think?”
The Hatfield’s took a trip to South America several years ago in order to experience the true interconnectedness of their small Illinois coffee shop to the lives of people they had never met. Now, several large photographs of their suppliers in their home countries hang on the wall. The photographs are among the only wall decor in the shop, speaking volumes to the value the Hatfield’s place on the lives of those who grow their product.
Regarding Zion’s namesake, Banu says there is no “sexy story” behind it. Originally, they wanted to call it Origins Coffee, but to their dismay, the name was already taken. Then one day, she was in her hammock in her backyard one day listening to music. The title of the album was Zion. She ran it by her husband and it stuck.
The name often makes people think of Mount Zion. “Coffee grows on mountains, so I think that’s fitting.” In a religious sense, Zion can mean the heavenly city or kingdom of heaven.
“People ask if it’s religious, and it’s not,” she says. “But one definition is ‘an ideal community.’ Truly, we want people to feel welcome and included here. So the name works.”