But what exactly is Palo Santo?
Palo Santo's scientific name is Bursera graveolens. It is native to Peru, Ecuador and surrounding lands. It thrives in dry, tropical forests, and when burned it produces a sweet but musky scent. Translated as “holy wood" in Spanish it has been used for medicinal purposes for thousands of years. Traditionally used by Incan shamans/ curanderos in rituals to drive off evil spirits and cleanse the land from the dark energies. It has a concentration of Limonene, a substance used in natural insect repellents. It has been found to be analgesic (pain-relieving) and posses anti-inflammatory properties while clearing out negative energy. Like Palo Santo Tainos originated in the northernmost area of South America.
4,000 years ago Tainos used the rivers that today cross Venezuela to reach the Caribbean Sea. This is why I chose to offer responsibly harvested Palo Santo. The burning of this palo honors those ancestors that marked our identity before we established ourselves in modern day Dominican Republic and Haiti. I find that it meets the user where they are meaning if you are angry and use it, you will be left to process your anger.
But Palo de Cuaba, or Cuaba bark, is what resonates with our energetic signature. This is because Palo de Cuaba is harvested in the Dominican Republic. Cuaba is formed via the accumulation of resin at the base of Pine trees native to the Dominican Republic. Our ancestors would make torches out of cuaba because of its long burning time.
(c) Joey Santore iNaturalist
Today it is occasionally used in our outdoor stoves and bbq pits to add a distinct taste to our traditional dishes. However, there is no dedicated harvesting of cuaba as it can only be done sustainably if we rescue the pieces of cuaba from pine trees already being toppled. This makes cuaba very special and something we might not be able to offer for eternity. For now we ensure that our cuaba is sustainably harvested.
Cuaba can be used similarly to Palo Santo or Sage but I find it amplifies our ancestral prayers more effectively. It's smell is sweeter and lighter than Palo Santo. And it can also be used to add a distinct flavor to your BBQ! Cuaba is spiritually used to dominate others, or situations. Want to silence someone? chew on a piece of cuaba before you start speaking to them. You can also use it to cleanse your space of funky energy.
To use Palo Santo or Palo de Cuaba I recommend you open your windows and front door. Then walk from the back of your home to the front. While doing this you can pray, chant, or simply ask for the removal of any negative energy, and welcome in good things like abundance, peace, and love. If meditating or holding a ritual after cleansing your space prop your palo of choice on our Palo Holder.
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So the first step in redefining who Ojala and I will be is focusing on the actions that will honor my intention. In this spirit I created a design to honor the work I am doing with sacred caved in the Dominican Republic.
I began to dive into my indigenous identity while living in Hawaii. But I didn't feel like I was making progress until I visited the Dominican Republic in 2021. My pilgrimage took me around the country. I visited various places that were considered sacred by my ancestors. Spending time in caves, and at ceremonial spaces began to blur the line between my present life and the way my ancestors experienced my homeland.
Upon my return to NYC I sought out spaces where I could actively practice my identity. I found such a space in Union City, NJ. There Yukayeke Opia holds regular areitos (similar to pow wows it is a time of gathering and ceremony). During these my spiritual and physical connection with my ancestors has been nurtured. Practicing the dances of my ancestors, using our language, being surrounded by their medicine has accelerated my healing.
Areitos are an opportunity to celebrate our identity. Earlier this month I attended an areito dedicated to friendship on a frozen night. We invite our ancestors with each step we dance. After months of conversations the ancestors and cemis* responded. I was asked to take on the role of Tekina. Tekinas are story tellers, mediators, teachers, agents of accountability.
During the ceremony I was asked if I wanted to take on this responsibility. This was surprising because throughout my life I have taken on these roles, but I've never been asked. The next steps haven't been explained. The burden wasn't explained. Being told what was coming was unnerving.It meant I was making a decision with my eyes wide open.
This is probably why I cried as I accepted the role and the amber necklace I was presented.
This doesn't mean I didn't hesitate. It doesn't mean I am not scared. I was terrified. I continue to be afraid. I have always had high standards, for myself and those in my life. But this ask was coming from my ancestors, from our cemis. Now that I have accepted, everything is different. Even my name.
Tekina Guatu Ke Ini Inaru
*cemis are a deity or ancestral spirit, and a sculptural object housing the spirit
]]>By the time I sat in Tony Castanha's world history class, a prerequisite for my masters, I was 26. I had navigated my identity long enough to know that nothing was perfect, even my ancestors. That semester I returned to the Catholic faith, something that brought me much joy. So imagine my confusion when Prof. Castanha announced we would be burning the Papal Bulls that gave Columbus the power to claim lands, and convert people, resulting in the murder of many of my Taino ancestors. I participated in the burning, in front of the cathedral, because faith doesn't erase accountability or genocide. This was a decision that would continue to shape how I navigate identity.
Soon after I took a DNA test. My findings were surprising and disappointing. I believed I was something... something more than European and African. Taina, indigenous, native those were the things I believed I was.
My results felt like a colonial slap. I could not believe I was this white. I am literally the most un- white person I know. But there it was in my genetic makeup 57.2% European. Shocking right! The 34.1% African I was happy about, but nobody believes it! I remember scrolling down these results and thinking why do I feel I so Taina?
My results also made me take stock of my whiteness and the disappointment it triggered...
Race wasn't something I thought about while growing up in the Dominican Republic. Some people were light, others were medium, others were dark... But through education I learned what Europeans had done to Ayiti (modern Dominican Republic). Returning to America and being exposed to modern day racism helped me shape my definition of whiteness.
My opinions on whiteness were formed as I read the accounts of the torture and abuse my ancestors lived through. Needless to say I struggled to reconcile the torture with the many white people I knew that were kind, generous and didn't mutilate indigenous people. I have white friends! mentors! Teachers that have made my life better simply by being in it.
This created quite the dilemma because 57% of me was linked to pure evil. I understood that rape led to the majority of this genetic signature. But I refused to live defined by 1492. I am so much more than that. It has taken me a long time to come to terms with my genetics. Part of this healing required an understanding that sloppy ancestors come in all shapes, and races.
This realization hit me when I looked into my maternal great- grandfather.
Before my trip to the Dominican Republic I knew that he had been a horrible husband to my great grandmother, Ramona. He abandoned her and her children. Grams remembered being hungry, angry. He cheated on Ramona, moved up the road with his new wife and at one point asked her to breastfeed his child. Ramona was still lactating because she too had given birth to his child around that time. I wasn't a fan of his. Then I learned that he wasn't just a cheater, it seems he was a murderer.
This realization broke my heart.
I couldn't believe that I was made up of pieces of this man. My entire life I tried to be "good". I stole something in high school and it still bothers me. I'm empathetic, loyal, and honest. How could this man be a part of me? This made me realize that your ancestors aren't a sentence.
I had to believe that we make a choice when we accept this timeline. Regardless of your makeup you choose which parts of them you want to honor. Some of us seem unable to break away from the harmful patterns of our ancestors. I'm thankful I was. So yes, I'm a white girl. It probably explains my love for all things pumpkin!
To those navigating their own makeup be kind to yourself. The other alternative is to hate parts of yourself. That takes up too much space in your heart. So do sloppy ancestors...
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I was probably 10 years old.
I don't remember what I was looking for. But I remember holding the bottle and spinning it. I asked my mom what it was and she responded nonchalantly "mamajuana, leave it alone".
True to my nature that wasn't a satisfactory response. Over time I became acquainted with the smell of mamajuana. Spices, sweet and powerful. I would ask how it was made. What was it for? My mom would provide clues but never explained why we had this bottle in the fridge.
Over time I learned that my mom had prepared this bottle for my father in the late 80's. I don't know why she made it. Or why it ended up back in our possession. Eventually I tasted mamajuana at some high school party (stop judging me!) and didn't enjoy it. What I tasted was pungent, and busy. This changed when I took custody of our familial mamajuana.
When I returned to New York City after a decade away I started cleaning grams apartment. In one of my cleaning frenzies I found that same bottle tucked in a cabinet behind the pots. I opened it and was immediately flooded by memories...
The wood was still soaked so I filled it up with some rum we had in the house. I began to make it mine. Over the last few years grams and I would use it by spiking our tea when we didn't feel well. As I built my familial altar I began using it for offerings. It was officially mine. In the summer of 2019 I was headed to Atlantic City for the day with some friends. Because we were mostly Dominican I decided to bring along my mamajuana.
Before we left the city my bag slipped and my bottle shattered. I was devastated. I teared up. I boarded the Coach bus with the plastic bag full of sticks and glass feeling like a family member had died.
When I got home that night I spread out the contents of that bag and picked out glass piece by piece. I rinsed my sticks. I picked apart the leaves. I got to know every ingredient intimately. I then rebottled my palos in a Black Label I received from the owner of the liquor store (I helped his family take on the gentrifier liquor store). Since them my sticks have continued to make magic for me.
During my trip to Ayiti in March of 2021 I stayed in San Cristobal. Being surrounded by Trujillo's history got me thinking about mamajuana again. Trujillo was a vile man, a pedaphile, rapist, racist little man.
But he loved mamajuana.
If you mention mamajuana to any Dominican they'll immediately warn you about its sexual capacities. Dominicans will claim that when men drink mamajuana they become better lovers.
Trujillo criminalized mamajuana. In order to get it you needed a prescription. Seems that Trujillo believed so strongly in the sexual potency that the drink produced that he didn't want anyone else to get some. But mamajuana can actually be traced back to the Tainos.
The behike (herbalist) would have been the one to prepare it. Supposedly, behikes are mentored by elder women on the attributes of organic materials i.e. spices, trees, etc Each cacique (chief) would have a trusted behike. They would heal folks with their knowledge on plants.
Legend has it that behikes would make the tincture today called mamajuana and it would be used for everything from indigestion, to kidney stones. This makes sense as the ingredients are recognized for their healing capabilities.
Anamu: Credited with boosting immunity, fighting inflammation and pain, and treating various chronic diseases, including certain cancers
Anise: Aides with depression, protects against stomach ulcers, mimic the effects of estrogen in your body, potentially reducing symptoms of menopause, balances blood sugar, reduces inflammation.
Canela: Is an anti-inflammatory, improves gut health, lowers blood sugar levels and blood pressure, provides digestive comfort.
Clavo: Found to contribute to liver health, regulate blood sugar, promote bone health, and reduce stomach ulcers.
Honey: Found to lower blood pressure, improves cholesterol, lower triglycerides and heals wounds and burns.
Malagueta: Oil made from malagueta is associated with hair growth, digestion, muscle aches, and headaches
Ojas Canelillas: These fragrant leaves are used for stomach ailments, flatulence, and colic. As a rub it aids with arthritic pain.
These are the attributes which created mamajuana as we know it, and why I decided to brew a batch during my last trip to Ayiti. So what about the rum?
It seems that Spaniards found the drink too earthy and they began to add wine to it. Once rum entered the scene in 17th century it too was added to the blend. Modern Dominican mamajuana was introduced in the 1950's by a man named Jesus Rodriguez.
Then in 2021 spirit asked me to bring it back. This batch of mamajuana began curing upon my return from Ayiti. I used my familial stash to infuse it. As I prepared it I prayed for the knowledge to bring back a piece of what's been taken from us...
It is the prayer I always say when creating for Ojala's community.
]]>My grams, Carmen “Mamuchi” Perez Abreu passed away in December due to COVID complications. After spending seven weeks in the hospital, she came back home. Disoriented, but excited. While she was away, I had done everything I could to make our home welcoming. That Thursday felt like a lifetime of Christmas Eves (we’re Dominican so we don’t wait for Jesus’s birth to open gifts). The following Tuesday she testified against the Blueprint proposal. She was tired, and weaker than I had ever seen her but she understood that the Blueprint was a threat to something she loved, public housing.
The Blueprint converts Section 9 in New York City, currently managed by the New York City Housing Authority (NYCHA), to a diluted version of Section 8. During our testimony grams spoke about the frustration she felt living in an apartment that had not been painted for almost a decade. We have a leak in our ceiling, one that has been dripping for about a decade. NYCHA refused to paint while we had an active leak, so we kept waiting… this is why every wall that is now patched, and painted is so bittersweet.
To grams, life in NYCHA was worth fighting for, failures and all. She loved living here, she wanted to end her life here. Over the 33 years that she lived here I fell in love with NYCHA too. But this love has been toxic for a while. Our apartment has tested positive for mold, and lead. I’ve been on allergy injections for three years to cope with the environmental toxins my apartment holds. My dog Brownie just started allergy injections for most of the same things. This didn’t happen overnight.
Public housing was abandoned by the federal government during the Reagan years. I often have to tell this story, how Reagan vilified the poor by introducing the term “Welfare Queen” to mainstream America. In doing so he ensured that folks wouldn’t support programing that led to upward mobility. Key among these was Section 9. Public housing had been created to eradicate slums, and to support the families lucky enough to get an apartment within public housing. The growth of these families was paramount to measuring success. This is visible in the construction materials I have been discovering in my apartment.
When Mitchel Houses was built in the mid 60’s everything was done by hand, and I want to assume it was done with love. Tradespeople built these monuments to progress with their bare hands. Our walls slant, our floors dip, but when you imagine the someone spending their day building homes intended to lift Americans out of slums you can’t help but long for the right soundtrack. So how did a system intended to rescue those living in slums create the largest slumlord in America’s history? Racism.
By the time Reagan began flirting with republican voters Italian and Irish beneficiaries had moved out of public housing, and headed to the suburbs. But public housing was still shaped by the federal policies that aimed to uphold segregationist policies. White flight was complemented by a shift towards funding for home ownership programs that mostly excluded people of color. Left behind were towers that began seeing less funding, depended on subsidies and began housing folks with more needs than those that lived in these homes before. After years of limiting access to public housing to people of color, and single heads of households the gates were opened.
Two years after Mitchel Houses opened in 1966 NYC stopped giving a dam about public housing. Middle class tenants were encouraged to move out, or evicted. NYCHA abandoned requirements of employment, stability and orderliness and stopped considering the “morals of the applicants”. Without rules, funding, and resources public housing turned into America’s ghettos. These ghettos didn’t attract much support and were left out of the vision for America. Couple this disdain with mismanagement and corruption and you have NYCHA.
These dire conditions have made an Obama era pilot, locally called RAD, run amok. At the peak of the pandemic NYCHA Chair Gregg Russ introduced the Blueprint proposal, RAD on meth. The blueprint converts section 9 (public housing) into unit sponsored section 8, creates a trust, and leaves NYCHA as our property manager. We lose our federal rights and privileges, some of which we haven’t experienced since the 70’s. So, at the peak of COVID tenants started organizing.
I used my background in policy and development to educate folks on policy, engage tenants across NYC and activate them. I did as my grandfather died from cancer, my neighbors died from COVID and I struggled with autoimmune conditions. In November COVID finally caught up to grams and I. December 29 I lost her. Coming home without her made the apartment we shared a depository of angst. Every crack on the walls, every broken tile felt like a reminder of time’s betrayal. To distract myself from the pain I decided to work on the signs of disinvestment.
I hired our local Bob Villa and began throwing color up.
Meanwhile, Russ hired a local consultant at the cost of $200,000 to convince tenants to support the legislation instead of replacing our ventilation systems after being warned that not doing so would lead to higher instances of COVID infections and deaths within NYCHA. Because our unit had not been properly maintained I expected the process to be difficult. I wanted every nail hole filled. Every wall evened out. when it came to the bathroom, I wanted to clear the signs of poor workmanship. I stripped paint from the tiles inch by inch. In doing so I found the history of this unit, of public housing.
Our bathroom had been beige, blue, white, yellow! Each layer reminded me that the one person I wanted to share this colorful discovery with was gone. Each layer spoke of a family living in a home they could afford! It spoke of families being rescued from slums in the lower east side. It spoke of upward mobility. It spoke of the promise of public housing. And how that promise had been broken.
Grams would tell me about the good old days. You could sit in the courtyard. Spend time at the senior center. Garden. Thrive. Her death left me alone, and in a home that reminded daily that people like us didn’t matter. Imagine losing the person that mattered most, and having wall cracks that mocked your heartache. Floor tiles that heckled you as you walked between memories. This home became a stranger without her and I didn’t recognize what it had become when her absence amplified shadows and stains. NYCHA uses a shade of beige that must be called despair and our leak had created cracks that felt like the breaks in my heart.
In this state I longed to undo what had been poorly done. Over the years NYCHA stopped using inhouse painters and began contracting painters. These painters sloppily covered testaments to American capabilities. Imagine my surprise when my stripping uncovered that our toilet paper holder is made from stainless steel! But my heart broke, and soared when I uncovered blue corner tiles.
I’m a sucker for details, and old homes. But I had never equated my home with a place worth restoring. That’s until I dropped some stripper on the corner of the tiled baseboard in our bathroom. In that corner I found a tiny triangle shaped tile. I was stunned by its presence. For 30 years grams home had been my weekend and summer home. I began living with her three years ago when her age started to slow down her swagger and she began needing me more. I looked at these tiles all the time. Not once did I consider that they could be original, or be a testament to why the Blueprint proposal needs to be killed, and Russ needs to be fired.
That blue tile, our stainless-steel finishes, our brass knobs… all of these pieces speak to a time when those making decisions for public housing wanted it to last. Public housing was equipped with the tools and resources to be timeless. We recognized as a country that affordable housing was essential for folks to thrive. I don’t know when we forgot this lesson but folks like me have been paying the price.
Russ is the embodiment of everything that is wrong with our policies on housing in America. His proposal will take tax payer Section 8 vouchers, use them (and NYCHA’s assets) as collateral to accumulate debt, and then “repair” our units. The debt is held by a trust which is allowed to seek bank notes and bonds. If at any time the debt becomes unmanageable investors can eventually seize all of NYCHA’s assets. Confusing right? There is an alternative, NYCHA could work with the federal government to get funding via Section 9 which is also funded by taxpayers. Period.
Funding Section 9 is cheaper for tax payers, maintains tenant protections only afforded to Section 9 properties, and is what tenants want. Yet on May 21st 2021 Senator Kavanagh introduced an updated version of the Blueprint legislation. This gave tenants and allies until June 7th to kill the bill. On May 22nd I launched a campaign with NYCHA tenants and allies “Remove Russ and Kill the Bill”. We’ve been gathering signatures online, and in person at family days every weekend. It is a daunting task, but one that I can’t turn away from.
There’s no doubt this campaign, now Save Section 9, is taking a huge toll on me, and everyone working on it. Those higher deaths have kept us in a constant state of mourning, and denial. The tenants involved in this fight have spent the entire pandemic fighting for homes that are a hazard to our mental and physical health. I wish each of them could find a blue tile. Because that blue tile… it has been there, holding on, waiting to be uncovered for almost 55 years. So, the least I can do is share it with ya’ll in the hopes that the next time you walk by a public housing development you can see past the layers of racism, over policing, underfunded school kids and see how each of us is as precious as a tiny, triangular, blue, corner tile…
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I visited the cave while on a pilgrimage to the Dominican Republic. This pilgrimage included returning my Grams' ashes to our village. My stop in San Cristobal was a spiritual preparation for what would be my first visit to our village without her.
I learned of Bibiana while researching Taino history in San Cristobal. I had a list of sites to visit but when I set out with some new friends to visit the site I had no idea what impact it would have on me. Bibiana was known as a healer and lived in these caves until her death in 1925.She identified as india, taína. Her parents María Benita de la Rosa and el Indio Quiterio, were from San Juan de la Maguana.
What I didn't realize was how difficult the trip would be. There is a road to the cave, but it requires a 4x4. We were not in a 4x4. You can also get there via moped, but my guides didn't think a moped would be safe on such a dangerous road. So we walked. And walked.
The road is there, but it winds, and pivots and inclines 70 degrees at times. I stopped multiple times on the road because I thought I would die. I kept using the views as an excuse. But at times all I saw was white... When my eyes could they captured the beauty of the location, and the damage we have done to it.
As we climbed Valdesia Dam grew smaller... what became larger was the dried out Nizao River. Since the dam was built a community previously dependent on the river for agriculture and fishing has lost economic options. The climb is slow as if slowly unfolding the story of our ancestors, of this village. I was hyperventilating as I climbed so I don't know how much of my breathe was taken by the climb or the inflammation which envelopes my spine.
After dragging my spirit up this hill for two hours we reached a path that looked like it could lead to a cave. We followed it. It led us back to the main road, but helped us avoid a final hill. The next path we found led us up a bit but then split. There were small homes to the left and right. I didn't have the energy to be wrong again, so I suddenly decided to quit.
Luckily a man was coming from the left. We asked him if we could reach Bibiana’s cave that way. He said yes, he was coming from there now. My companion says "thank god because she’s come from the US and we sorta got lost". He says "no, you found it, I should know! I’m her great grandson Ney de la Rosa".
Collective cue to faint.
Ney was the great gradson of the woman that I was searching for. He mentioned that usually he would leave earlier in the day because no one in their right mind would hike that hill at high noon. No one but a silly tourist from NYC.
He offers to turn back and guide us.
He sits with us, walks with us, and over hours he shares his memories of his great grandmother... and the sadness he felt seeing what had become of the cave over the years. After we take in the destruction that has been caused i begin to walk around the main cave.
It is littered with trash, beer bottles and religious obsessions. When Bibiana practiced in this cave she, like Papa Liborio, leaned on her indigenous knowledge to cure those that came looking for her. She also incorporated prayers, and catholicism. But the cave has been completely covered in fanaticism. There are altars used by several practicioners an one has built a home at the entrance of the cave to shorten his pilgrimage.
Key to her practice was water which poured from "el ojo del indio" a natural water source in one of the inner chambers. This small water source has dried out after years of abuse, I found it covered by candle wax and offerings. The water is no longer able to freely flow. Bibiana slept in this cave, and even the nook she slept in has been covered in paintings of crosses and murals of saints.
Deep in the cave system there is a smaller cave called "salon de las media noche" because of how dark it is in there. While there Ney showed us the inner cave that his father would practice in and recalled spending days watching his elders heal. He also remembered how the river, Nizao, could be sensed through a crack in the wall. Since the dam was built that has stopped happening.
But the place where I became overwhelmed by emotions, and responsibility was the spot where Bibiana would sit and wait for her visitors. In that spot one can touch the petroglyphs. These markings made via chiseling shot through me a current. In that moment my identity became clear. Through that clarity I saw the erasure and vilification of my heritage.
For generations Dominicans have lost themselves following the voices of outsiders. It began with Guacanagaríx, continued as our spirituality was undermined by Catholics and Christians. Today for many the religion of choice is capitalism, accompanied by Americanism. Sitting in this spot I felt the defeat our Taino ancestors felt watching the world chip away at us, having their remnants overlooked. As I turned around and took a look at what had become of the cave where Bibiana healed I felt sick.
I didn't make a promise that day because I am too logical to do that. But on our way down the hill I manifested some ice cream and a walking stick. I spoke with Ney about the community, what had led to the destruction of the cave. As he spoke of the decline in economic opportunities, the degradation of the environment, the introduction of modified seeds my brain churned.
This churning has led me to partner with the community, and start this crowdfunding campaign.
Our goals is huge: restore the cave! To do this we need to:
The money raised via this GoFundMe will support the work at all stages! Ney and members of the community began working the last week of August 2021. We want to pay them fair wages. That will be the first expense for this campaign!
]]>Ghrelin is the hunger hormone.
I recently read an interesting article on bird migration, don't ask me how I got there! If Smithsonian says it, I listen... In it biologists mentioned the role of ghrelin in migration. I've always equated migration with the act of seeking a better environment for food and shelter.
What struck me was that when I envision migration I focus on the graceful periods of movement, the flight... but I never thought about the pit stops. Turns out that ghrelin is what pushes us to stop, mid flight. Sometimes in less adequate spaces, to fill up. To satiate the hunger our longer voyage attempts to address.
On my path to remembering who I am as a Taina I have made many stops. Determined to feed the hunger within my soul. Each stop, New York, Washington D.C., Hawaii... the Bronx, has fed me. But nothing has satiated me. I've arrived in each space seeking more, remaining restless. Turns out in birds this restlessness is referred to as zugunruhe.
Since the passing of my grandmother in December I have been in a constant state of zugunruhe. But traveling throughout the Dominican Republic hasn't felt like pit stop. Each sacred site has felt like a homecoming and the idea of leaving a land that holds so much of me within it must be what monarchs feel when they head north to do the work of saving us... just by being themselves.
They must know that if they remain still, in that perfect place, the one they nest in within Michoacán Mexico they'll find joy. But responsibility, and maybe zugunruhe itself demands that they head north again.
]]>My first application was rejected in 2019. I am now in the process of reapplying. But Ojala was a dream I believed in to strongly to wait until I had enough money saved up to start... Having worked for the government I knew organizations were mandated to support entrepreneurs. So I started digging and asking for help!
My research led to a goldmine of resources. For the last three years I have used these resources to stretch my pennies. I hope you will do the same. $198 continues to be my budget. So my hunt for resources will never end!
P.S. One thing that I haven’t been able to find is capital intended for those of us in my situation. As soon as I have some time I plan to raise hell about the amount of funding that goes to nonprofits teaching the same courses. The waste is ridiculous and the Small Business Administration would make a larger impact by GIVING entrepreneurs small amounts of cash meant to support their expansion. There are moments when a small expense totaling less than $500 would make a huge difference for Ojala, but at my level of sales that expense isn’t feasible. I’m going to keep giving this thought.
In the meantime, take advantage of these! And if they add value to your growth, please consider making a donation via: https://paypal.me/pools/c/8ewQdBK3Kx
U.S. Small Business Administration
The U.S. Small Business Administration helps Americans start, build, and grow businesses. They are the OG supporters of entrepreneurship. They fund/ support almost everything on this guide in one way or another.
Man-Li Lin
E Man-Li.Lin@sba.gov
Teresa Detelj
E teresa.detelj@sba.gov Economic Development Specialist
New York District Office
U.S. Small Business Administration
T (212) 264-7060
What to expect: Sessions on everything business related (finances, legal, marketing, capital).
Start Small Think Big
We help under-resourced entrepreneurs build businesses in underserved areas so owners can increase their personal financial security and stimulate economic activity in their communities.
8 W. 126th Street, 3rd Floor
New York, NY 10027
Make sure to note I referred you on the application, I can win a gift card!
What to expect: Financial, marketing and legal support. They help in house or support you by referring you to subject matter experts.
FastTrac
FastTrac is a series of entrepreneurship courses offered by the NYC Department of Small Business Services (SBS) for aspiring and established entrepreneurs throughout New York City. Apply now to gain the knowledge and skills you need to launch and grow your business – and connect to a network of experienced facilitators, business experts, and other successful business owners across NYC.
NYC Department of Small Business Services
110 William Street, 7th Floor
New York, NY 10038
T 212.618.8704
What to expect: The class offered via this program was amazing. You walk out with a business plan, connections, and resources to get started!
What to expect: Retired experts willing to guide you through every stage of business development. They have experts on every topic from Public Relations to SEO. Go in ready to take advice, and ask questions. Don’t waste their time or yours!
The Microenterprise Project
The Microenterprise Project helps small business owners and microentrepreneurs access high-quality, free legal services from our dedicated staff and our network of pro bono lawyers. For many New Yorkers, owning a small business is an effective path to financial stability and independence.
Volunteers of Legal Service VOLS
40 Worth Street, Suite 820
New York, NY 10013-2904
T (212) 966-4400
What to expect: You do an intake after being referred by one of the partner organizations and you are then matched with a law firm that will help you with the incorporation process. They can’t represent you in court but are able to create templates, help with contracts and intellectual property. You pay all filing fees associated with the services.
At the heart of our mission is the belief that whatever their differences, people and communities share a common goal: to achieve economic stability and growth. Working in partnership with culturally diverse individuals and organizations in support of this shared goal is the hallmark of BOC.
What to expect: Amazing support building a business that will one day scale!
Made In NYC
Made In NYC, an initiative of Pratt Center for Community Development, was created to support the entrepreneurs and innovators creating high-quality, high-value products made locally by New Yorkers for local and global distribution.
Pratt Center for Community Development
200 Willoughby Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11205
What to expect: They seem to hire the coolest staff, which means they create really unique experiences including exposure, classes, resources, vendor opportunities, marketing and photography support.
The New York Small Business Development Center
The New York Small Business Development Center (NYSBDC) provides small business owners and entrepreneurs in New York with the highest quality, confidential business counseling, training, and business research at no cost.
What to expect: Mentoring, referrals to free legal services.
Columbia Harlem Small Business Development Center
The Columbia-Harlem Small Business Development Center (SBDC) offers resources, mentorship, and programs for small-business owners and entrepreneurs in the Harlem and southern Bronx neighborhoods.
Columbia-Harlem SBDC
475 Riverside Drive
Room 312I
NY, NY 10115
What to expect: Sessions on everything business related (finances, legal, marketing, capital).
Excelsior Growth Fund (EGF),
Their mission is to help businesses in New Jersey, New York and Pennsylvania grow by providing small business loans and advisory services. As a nonprofit certified Community Development Financial Institution, we’re a responsible lender you can trust.
Excelsior Growth Fund
5 Hanover Square
Suite 1500
New York, NY 10004
What to expect: They offer courses, and webinars on preparing for loans, keep in mind they are a lender so they will always try to encourage you to apply with them.
Planoly
The FIRST VISUAL PLANNER for INSTAGRAM. Clear and to the point web and mobile app — Planoly is the most effective visual social media planner on the market (oh, and you can schedule too)!
What to expect: The app is great. But you gotta use it. Their resources are amazing!
National Association of Women Business Owners
Founded in 1975, the National Association of Women Business Owners (NAWBO) is the unified voice of over 10 million women-owned businesses in the United States representing the fastest growing segment of the economy.
NAWBO
601 Pennsylvania Ave NW
South Building, Suite 900
Washington, DC 20004
WENYC
WE NYC (Women Entrepreneurs NYC) is an initiative based out of the New York City Department of Small Business Services that is dedicated to helping women start and grow their businesses.
What to expect: They have great events, mentorship sessions, and support crowdfunding via WeFund. Participating in WE Fund Crowd means NYC will be your first lender, pledging 10%, or up to $1,000, of your crowdfunding goal.
Ureeka is a Community where small businesses gain unprecedented access to the expertise needed to grow their business.
What to expect: they regularly hold events, and offer resources but don't miss their grant announcements!
Harlem Community Development Corporation
Harlem Community Development Corporation (“HCDC”), a subsidiary of the New York State Urban Development Corporation, d/b/a Empire State Development Corporation, was created in 1995 to serve the greater Harlem community, including Central Harlem, El Barrio/East Harlem, Washington Heights and West Harlem. It supersedes the Harlem Urban Development Corporation (HUDC) that existed from 1971 to 1995.
163 West 125th Street
17th Floor
New York, NY 10027
(212) 961-4169 www.Facebook.com/HarlemCDC
What to expect: programming
I'll continue to update this as other resources cross my path! Take a look at our shop and see what I've achieved with the help of these organizations!
But many Bronx progressives feared that he would win, with the help of these donors then use his congressional seat to undermine the most vulnerable residents of the district.
These fears materialized on August 3rd.
Via a tweet he shared implored the city council to support Industry City's expansion proposal, questioning how anyone could say no to jobs and 100 Mil in tax revenue.
But a closer look at their plan makes it clear that 20k jobs would arrive over 15 years. More importantly, the community surrounding Industry City has worked to stop this expansion because they feared displacement and further gentrification would destabilize their neighborhood. The vision was not supported by groups such as Uprose Brooklyn, Protect Sunset Park and anyone responding to Torres' oped on Twitter.
Local councilmember Carlos Menchaca attempted to negotiate investments with the owners, including the removal of two hotels from the plan. The developers felt there was too much being asked of them.
Even with the adjustments their vision turns valuable waterfront land into yet another playground for the wealthy in NYC. Yes, locals would be allowed to visit but how often do we see them at similar developments outside of their uniforms? and the jobs being created would probably require uniforms for the locals. Boxing them into the service industry.
This should feel familiar. The similarities between Industry City and Hudson Yards are striking and average New Yorkers should hate them both!
Refresher: Bloombergs NYC supported Hudson hard body. So hard they redrew a district to include Harlem’s NYCHA properties. This made the project eligible for EB5 Visas.
“New York State authorities enabled Related, the project’s developer, to raise more than $1.2 billion in EB-5 financing at the lower-tier rate reserved for urban areas with severe unemployment. It’s supposed to help struggling places in America. But New York, Texas, California and most other states tilt the system in luxury’s favor. Sometimes this means stringing together dozens of census tracts in long spaghetti-noodle maps to qualify luxury projects as falling within poor urban districts. ”
This money meant to rescue inner city communities with no other revenue streams built Hudson Yards along with amazing incentives and breaks. These decisions were made 15 years ago.
Today Torres asks that post COVID the city support Industry City. Meanwhile Hudson Yards' anchor tenant Neiman Marcus has filed for bankruptcy. 75% of their tenants were unable to pay their rents in April, or maintain employees. NYC is now expected to lose 9 Billion including millions that Hudson Yards was supposed to produce. Additionally the city is now on the hook to start paying principal on the the Yard’s debt come 2021. WHY?
"In 2005, the City chose to take on all the risk if, and when, anything went wrong with Hudson Yards. It did so first by choosing a non-traditional route to fund its investment in Hudson Yards. The City committed $3.5 billion to extend the nº 7 subway line and build the city’s most expensive office park as part of the Hudson Yards project. Rather than use the City’s capital budget, the normal practice to pay for infrastructure projects, the Bloomberg Administration and the City Council chose to finance Hudson Yards’ expenses through a complex version of Tax Increment Financing (TIF), a tool used to finance economic development projects.
TIF debt sold for an economic development project is paid back by the revenues resulting from the development itself. In practice, if anything goes wrong, city taxpayers often end up footing the bill. In Hudson Yards, City officials chose to pledge the City’s general fund as a backstop if property taxes from the ensuing private development in Hudson Yards was ever insufficient to pay back the debt issued to build the infrastructure." Center for New York Affairs
So why is Torres so preoccupied with Industry City? It is in Brooklyn, a borough that is years ahead of the South Bronx when it comes to numerous measurements. Mott Haven continues to be 62 out of 62 counties in New York. Meanwhile, Kings County, where Industry City is located is number 15. Their councilmember isn't supporting the plan, and tradition states that the council should defer to the local representative. Ritchie isn't honoring tradition, and pushed back going as far as baiting the mayor and citycouncil speaker while overlooking the work Menchaca and community organizations did before reaching the conclusion that Industry City's vision wasn't right for them.
How is Industry City linked to NY15? well their owner Belvedere Capital and Jamestown also owns 260 East 161st Street. This was their first purchase in the Bronx for a cost of $115M and required a $64M loan. They also own Chelsea Market. This is another space that has become obsolete post COVID. Like a lot of Industry City and Hudson Yards.
Hudson Yards, and Industry City are also aesthetically similar. They are a polished nod to a NYC long gone. They are also become a gateway to the waterfronts they take over. These lots are remnants of an industrial era where our rivers were the root of economic growth. For years these industrial spaces were overlooked. Until rezoning allowed for classism to redefine them. Industry City and my beloved square at the end of Lincoln Avenue are being transformed into havens for the wealthy.
This nexus of design, access and waterfront are replicated near my home in Mott Haven a community Ritchie now "represents".
Who gets the waterfront? Mott Haven has been at the forefront of gentrification debates and clashes since the New York Times began advertising it. Our waterfronts have been historically polluted, and inaccessible. Today companies like Waste Management bring in hundreds of garbage trucks through Mott Haven daily. But the community has slowly reclaimed waterfront spaces. Most notably the end of Lincoln Avenue is now a destination for residents seeking a natural escape.
This is the same site where Brookfield is building their luxury minicity Bankside. The seven buildings will include affordable housing and enough winding paths to keep any Karen busy. The renderings are pretty. But for those that call Mott Haven home they represent an uncertain future. One being built on top of record rental prices for commercial and residential spaces. One that ignores how many luxury spaces already sit empty due to rents that have been ballooned due to unrestrained speculation.
Yet Torres is calling for the expansion of a space that in no way addresses the inequality that existed before COVID. The ones that he claimed to understand as a gay, brown boy, raised by a single mom, in public housing. He also doesn't seem to understand the inequalities that COVID has amplified. So, it falls on us the Bronx his district to educate him on these.
I encourage you all to reach out to Torres and share with him some of the points raised in this blog or you can mention:
Quote Menchaca: “It is clear to me that the displacement and gentrification our city is combating today is a result of giving private developers free reign.”
How to reach Ritchie:
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Last night, on E. 136th St. by Brook, the NYPD brutally attacked #FTP4.
— Andom Ghebreghiorgis (@AndomForNY) June 6, 2020
Over 100 cops enclosed the march at ~ 7:55 PM.
At 8:10 PM, cops pushed into the crowd and packed us into an increasingly tight space.
Comrades yelled, “You’re gonna kill people” & “I can’t breathe.” 1/x pic.twitter.com/f1j0tOQCTS
“I just saw a woman get her head bashed in because she walked away from an officer and didn’t walk away fast enough, says David Perez, a Mott Haven resident. “Are we in America. Did I wake up in another fucking country?” pic.twitter.com/KXNsVIdHiu
— Jake Offenhartz (@jangelooff) June 5, 2020
One video was specially heartbreaking as a black mother shared with folks what was happening live. Through her panic we saw the severity of the situation. We also listened as her 17 year old daughter had a nervous breakdown. She shared with us that she peed her pants. I watched this video while communicating with friends that had been at the march, and tried to be supportive and helpful from a distance.
On June 5th Third Avenue Business Improvement District Director Michael Brady put out an announcement updating folks on 149, and thanking the NYPD for their presence last night. It made no mention of the trauma caused by the response to the protest from the NYPD.
But should we have expected one? if not, why is that the case. What is the role of businesses in communities most affected by police brutality? and of those that represent them?
Why do these questions matter?
In communities like Mott Haven business owners carry an extraordinary amount of clout. In the vacuum created by poverty, racism, aggressive policing, and disinvestment, business owners are seen as exceptional. Organizations usually fill these voids, organizations like the BID. As a result they have more access and influence on the decisions made by local law enforcement, and politicians .
Naturally, the BID works with the NYPD to secure property and ensure that the metrics of success which they have defined are met. So when yesterday's protest was announced, via marketing that frightened folks, the BID rang that alarm. But in ringing that alarm, and in doing so with such clout, there is a danger. We find warnings of this “danger” throughout the BID’s history.
I would argue that the BID/ its leadership has repeatedly failed to create an inclusive environment. While I am glad one of their employees is now tasked with diversity and inclusion. BUT the fact that organization located in the South Bronx needs to fill that role is part of the problem.
The BID has created opportunities, resources and access. BUT who benefits from this?
I have personally asked them via public mediums about:
~ community access to their space on Bruckner and Lincoln Avenue (also asked about the funding sources for this space) South Bronx Business Lab.
~ diversity in membership
I haven't received responses. Now, I don't want to be a member. Well, I'm not eligible to be a member. I also don't want to spend time in their club house. But I will be fucking dammed if there are opportunities being created in MY community and I as a social entrepreneur am not given the option to participate. More recently the BID provided more ammunition to its critics by coordinating with Michael Blake the launch of The Bronx Community Relief Effort.
The Bronx Community Relief Effort was born in the South Bronx immediately after the Coronavirus hit New York City. The Effort aims to raise $10 million to support effective, on-the-ground operations that are focused on meeting the most essential needs of the Bronx community. This includes filling gaps in public financing and broader grant programs. Donations collected are distributed in real-time within the community to those in critical need.The LatinX Poetry Project is a poetic anthology with over 45 new LatinX Poets from diverse backgrounds sharing their unique & heartfelt poetry inspired by immigration, social justice & feminism.
]]>I am so excited to announce that two of my poems have been selected by Alegria Publishing for inclusion in The LatinX Poetry Project.
The LatinX Poetry Project is a poetic anthology with over 45 new LatinX Poets from diverse backgrounds sharing their unique & heartfelt poetry inspired by immigration, social justice & feminism.
This book is for perfect for anyone seeking to take a poetic journey into LatinX identity. Please support us by purchasing your own copy for $24.99.
]]>COVID 19 has monopolized our existence. There isn’t a moment that we aren’t bombarded with news surrounding the spread of the disease the toll it is having on our loved ones, communities and economy. So it makes sense that the first week of the crisis in America every company was sharing their COVID plan. It turned out that shoe stores would save us all, I’m still not sure how. I was too busy preparing to quarantine with my grandmother. But if any of you finished that email from famous shoesource please fill me in.
Once I shifted from disaster preparation (thank you Hawaii Pacific for the skills!) to living in a disaster the severity of the pandemic finally destroyed me. I had been monitoring COVID since early January because I couldn’t believe Chinese New Year celebrations would be canceled. As New York City began detecting cases my preparations ramped up. The transformation the city has undergone has been surreal culminating with the arrival of USNS Comfort.
In my previous life working at US Pacific Command I supported USNS Mercy, her sister, as they planned a mission throughout the pacific. I was so grateful to have been part of that process, and to have supported our Navy in providing much needed medical assistance to our geographic partners. And now Comfort is here. To help us. But what has been most difficult to accept is that not all of us are being helped.
The communities that I normally advocate for continue to be overlooked during the COVID crisis. I’ll be sharing how we can each shed light on the challenges facing those living in public housing, the future of NYC’s public transportation and why Rikers Island makes it hard for me to sleep.
In the meantime, I hope you’ll take care. Stay home, if possible. Wash your hands regularly; pray to your spiritual beacon. Laugh. Cry. Also, keep in mind those that leave their homes daily to respond. Those like Dani's mom. I will to do the same.
I will also be creating new items for Ojala. But I am also more determined than ever to use Ojala as a vehicle for good. If you can, support us at this time! via a purchase. Know that proceeds from our sales are used to positively impact our local economy, and community.
Finally, the U.S. Small Business Administration, New York District Office selected us as the Minority Owned Small Business of the Year for 2020! So, I no longer say that timidly.
P.S. We now offer gift cards!
I would visit her and feel uncomfortable in the darkness. Lots were empty and lights were scarce. I lived with her occasionally and grew to love the silence that came from departed industry. Outsiders were rare because nobody really wanted to come here. To them there was nothing here. But this became home for my family.
There was comfort in knowing that we were forgotten, but together. Our poverty was shared. Deaths were too. But we found goodness in each other. When I headed to graduate school all our neighbors celebrated my accomplishment. When the FBI came to do my background check my success was the talk of the town.
We probably allowed the disinvestment to plague us because there was nothing to compare to. This changed when developers began focusing on the neighborhood. The south Bronx became the new frontier.
These days my neighbors are confused by the changing skyline. Luxury apartments now sit where factories did. With the arrival of each plaid shirted transplant we are suddenly aware of the difference between them and us. Gentrification has made it clear that our streets can be clean. Our subway station can be power washed. After decades of believing otherwise, we are suddenly faced with the truth, we were overlooked intentionally.
Another lesson we've learned is that success is fickle. I came of age believing that I needed to "go" in order to succeed. But now that I am back I refuse to define my success as something separated from my community. I founded Ojala Threads as a social enterprise because I wanted to make a difference in Mott Haven. I spent a decade in Hawaii amassing skills that make it possible for me to take on inequity in public housing, public transportation and criminal justice reform. When I announced that I would be making baby bodysuits inspired by Hispanic heritage the assumption was that I was experiencing a mid life crisis.
But entrepreneurship is an equalizer right? Turns out in Mott Haven even that has been perverted.
Gentification (that's not a mispelling) has signed all of the commercial leases in my neighborhood. We've become a hot zone where brown faces find "success". How is it that so many people that didn't grow up in my neighborhood have found success in it, as entrepreneurs!? But if you look past the New York Times articles on emerging brands located in Mott Haven what you find is funding from developers intent on rebranding us. As if realizing that we're not worthy of investments isn't upsetting enough, we are now forced to question our own abilities and ideas.
Before uncovering the role of developers in these new brands I couldn't understand why my efforts didn't lead to the same attention, accolades and income. I have had financial success in the past; made six figures. But the trajectory was clear when I worked for the Department of Defense. It got murky when I began researching brands like The Lit Bar, Empanology, and Beatstro...
But that is the thing with gentification and gentrification, it makes things murky. It forces long time residents to accept that their neighborhood was overlooked on purpose. It encourages communities that once cleared rubble and made roads to compete with each other. It makes individuals question their abilities, not to succeed but to remain ethical.
Over the next five years six new luxury condos will become a part of the poorest congressional district in America. One can hope that our future neighbors will join us and learn our ways. Maybe they will appreciate the culture that has made our neighborhood so attractive? But Harlem and Brooklyn taught us that when they come, so do the calls to the cops with complaints about our music and domino games. We could also hope that our schools will improve. But I watch their children commute our of our failing district every morning, traveling south on the 6 train towards "better". Meanwhile our average income trickles north, leaving our kids in schools that will no longer qualify for funding meant to give them a chance.
So what do we get left with when gentrification strikes? a different kind of darkness, one made of shadows created by buildings that don't welcome us and the assumption that we are to blame.
]]>But few last here, because of the smell in the summer. Because of the rats in the winter. They don’t take the time to uncover my spot. This place free of YEEEERRRRRRSSSS free of new beards and trendy beers.
This small ledge where I stand at times staring at water that seems unfamiliar. On this ledge I sometimes admire the moon asking la Diosa Luna to let me see in the murk some beauty. Longing for the way that water flirted with greens and blues.
These hues so deep that one coat of paint would not do. But this hue my heart understood. A blue familiar because before being stripped from the place that eats the sun and spits out platanos my spirit knew that we would lose. But it is so many blues…
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After spending their life raising well-rounded children they wake up one day to realize that those children, and their children, have very little in common with them! These differences are most obvious in their music and food options, but even when they’re speaking the same language the words make no sense. It feels like they live in two different worlds. They lament not being able to fill the awkward silences; those silences should be filled with the sharing of values, heritage, and stories… they are plagued with questions.
How do I uphold my heritage? Values?
How can I pass these things down to my descendants?
How do I compete with things, and ideas that I don’t understand?
I argue the key is to start distributing your inheritance while alive.
I am not proposing that you start writing checks, I am proposing that you actively distribute the knowledge you have amassed, and the values you wish to see your descendants uphold. This can be done in many ways but you can start by investing your time, and money, differently.
The same questions were bothering me as I navigated being an aunt to three boys. My youngest nephew Jadiel is sickly boy, making me very protective of him. When he was 4 months old he became so ill that he ended up in the emergency room where he was diagnosed with meningitis. He ended up in the ICU for five days where he cried through a spinal tap, and numerous blood tests. His mom was exhausted so I took over the night shift on the fourth night. In between lullabies the fear of losing him shortened my breathing. I knew he was on his way to recovery, but I couldn’t shake that fear. There was so much he needed to know, so much I needed to tell him about our family.
Because my chronic illness makes a traditional job impossible I stayed with Jadiel for a week after his release from the hospital. That week I sang to him, in Spanish and English; I told him where our people came from; what our elders were like; how we were a blend of Africa, Europe and Tainos (the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean). He had no idea what I was blabbering on about, but I felt an urge to share everything with him. Those moments we shared during that week are my inheritance to him.
Ojala Threads is how those gifts live on.
Ojala Threads creates baby bodysuits that honor heritage, values and experiences. Our baby bodysuits feature unique designs inspired by Hispanic heritage. Through bold designs we give purpose to baby bodysuits. We currently offer three designs Folklorico, Chacabana and Diosa Luna. Folklorico pays homage to our love for music, and the blend of Africa, European and indigenous. Chacabana is a love letter to grandfathers and is inspired by the shirt by the same name that is found throughout the Caribbean. Diosa Luna honors the Taino goddess of the moon.
Each parent, and baby, that receives one is introduced to a culture that isn’t their own, or one that they have drifted away from. While Tainos populated Hispaniola (modern day Haiti and Dominican Republic), Jamaica, and Puerto Rico many don’t realize they too share in this heritage.
I came to understand my lineage through genetic testing, and think anyone wanting to better understand their history undergo genetic testing. There is true power in connecting to your history! Our bodysuits similarly empower families.
I gift wrap each bodysuit, and include a poem that explains the inspiration behind the design. This makes babies, and parents, more culturally conscious. More importantly, it creates the space for the exchange of stories. It is those stories that your descendants will value when you can no longer tell them.
Because our mission is to do more than just dress babies, Ojala is a values driven brand! We handprint in the South Bronx using non-toxic, water based inks. While this is the pricier option we refuse to contribute to waterway pollution, an unexpected result of dyes used in the fashion industry. Our fabric is a blend of premium cotton and spandex because babies born in America tend to put on weight at a quicker rate. This fabric choice means our pieces wash better, and get more uses!
Numerous companies make baby clothing, and bodysuits. But you have the option to support brands that are aligned with your values. Ojala is just one example of the many companies that are now offering gifts that are culturally sensitive, and committed to social entrepreneurship. When looking for gifts, and experiences remember that your money talks, louder than you do! Make sure you are supporting brands that uphold your values, and communicate them clearly to the recipient. Always ask yourself what you want to give to your descendants, not just leave behind.
Hopefully these tips help you identify brands that will allow you to ensure your descendants inherit your values. It might take a few extra minutes to find the brands that are aligned with you, but doing so ensures that your legacy lives, while you do!
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