“I’m having a really bad day,” says a young boy at Joshua Station. “It’s because of the Spanish people.”

The Spanish people?

“They don’t understand what I say.” His eyes glisten with tears. “I say it again and again, and they don’t know what I’m saying.”

Somewhere else in the building, a Spanish-speaking child is lamenting the very same thing.

Our residents share many things in common. Notably, each family has a difficult experience of homelessness. Each is dreaming and working toward a more stable and flourishing future.

And… Joshua Station has never experienced a greater variety of nationalities, languages, cultures, and life experiences than right now. It’s a joy and a very real challenge. “There are always difficulties in community living, but my heart aches with some of the conflict we’ve experienced this year between residents,” says Family Advocate Miriam Medina. “And it multiplies when groups align against each other.”

Among our Spanish speakers alone, we have many cultures. Coming from all over the hemisphere, they cook very different flavors and smells downstairs in our community kitchen. They have different dialects, slang, and humor. They have different parenting styles. They don’t keep track of their kids. Or: They try to control my kids.

They approach friendship and conflict differently. The same is true within our English-speaking group. Other languages add their spice, such as Arabic.

What might be a recipe for delight has sometimes turned sour, leaving residents and staff with heartburn. What to do?

Add a hilarious little coffee, of course!

If you walk into our dining room on a Monday summer evening these days, you’ll hear howls of laughter. Our adult residents are cheering and clapping for each other. “It really changed everything,” says resident Danea Salazar.

“For instance, there was this other mom… she and I really got off on the wrong foot when we first ran into each other at Joshua Station. Now we say hi in the morning in each other’s language, and we’re getting to know each other. It completely broke the ice. It’s really neat! We’ve started to realize we’re really all the same in a lot of ways.”

Resident Hanna Scanlan says, “I’ve always wanted to learn Spanish but I never thought I’d learn it this way. I see Spanish signs everywhere in town, and some jobs require it. I got invited to the group but didn’t know what to expect and didn’t know it would be fun. I got to know a few residents who I never would have. It allows us to open up.”

From the start, these Monday nights were dubbed the “Cafecitos Group.” Why Cafecitos? It means “little coffee” in Spanish, as in “Let’s have a little coffee.” In some cultures, have coffee literally in little cups—with a chat. After much discussion among our staff regarding conflict resolution processes among people with trauma backgrounds, a light bulb went on for Lead Family Advocate Lauren Ruth. Why not just take the temperature down by having little coffee chats? Others chimed in with the ideas. Hey, why not make it a language-sharing time? And finally, Family Advocate Mary Ann Mosquera offered to bring fun activities from her experience teaching ESL (English as a Second Language). As in, really fun.

So it began. First, with raised eyebrows and skepticism on the faces of residents in the opening moments the first night. Mary Ann figured she had no more than 60 seconds to break the dark cloud.

“Everybody stand up! Everybody! Now. You’re standing next to someone you know, who speaks your language. Move around the room and find someone you don’t know how to speak with. Go go go, let’s go! This is going to be fun, I promise you!” Mary Ann plays cheerleader in two languages.

“Ok sit down, and here’s paper and markers. Draw yourself, any way you want—just make sure it shows some body parts. You’re going to teach your partner the names of your parts.” Giggles break out over the bad sketches, along with surprise at a few displaying real talent.

“Who wants to be first? Stand up, show your drawing, and have your partner coach you want to say.” Orejas. Eeeeers. Ears! The pair doubles over in laughter, to hoots and cheers from the entire room. Hard to say what’s funnier, the goofy ear drawing, the pronunciation, or the contagious hilarity itself. On to mouth, with someone’s actual mouth awkwardly trying to pronounce mouth.

The next week? More meaningful fare, with each person creating “vision board” collages that express who they are as a person. But the warm, welcoming, disarming tone has already been set. As each person shares, there is applause and affirmation. With the risk of open hearts, each one is known.

Barriers remain, and conflict is never absent from community living. But peacemaking has a much firmer foothold after a little hilarious coffee.