Love, RUNWAY: A Legacy of Love and Entrepreneurship with Leila Tamari
LOVE, RUNWAY is an ongoing series of original written works by members of the RUNWAY team to remind ourselves and each other of the love we share for our work, our communities, and our people. To continue developing the muscle of reimagining what the world would look like if the economy loved Black people we write love letters to different points in humanity's timeline. We hope these stories will help others connect with our purpose and showcase the richly textured humans behind our work.
I recently learned you were an entrepreneur, but I don’t know if you saw yourself that way. You might’ve said you were simply doing what needed to be done to raise eight children, and honestly, that alone was probably enough to earn you the title. You were a hairstylist, washing and pressing hair for the holidays, as well as a seamstress and a market lady selling various goods at Marché en Fer in Port-au-Prince. Eventually, you assumed the role of a house manager to an ambassador, even though you were illiterate.
When you arrived in the United States, you began your cleaning business, working for the church and for families like Nancy’s. You created flower arrangements for the church, too, and I only recently found out that was why you gifted me elaborate bouquets for my birthday.
I can smell the lilies now. Mèsi, Gran.
Many of your children caught the entrepreneurial bug, finding their own hustles state-side and back home. Jojo’s chicken-raising business, Maman’s hosting and at-home-chef operations, Johnny’s mechanic and car service gigs… it goes on; and our generation has followed suit too. You passed down the pioneering spirit in our family, but you did more than find ways to make something out of nothing. You brought faith into our lives and into our work. You inherently understood that your success was tied up with others, so you played the role of a financial activist. You were part of a susu, and you found other ways of exchanging services beyond money. You taught us that social capital and mutual respect could get you further in the long run than a single contract. I watched how you moved with integrity and in alignment with your values and how you were always rooted in faith. “Tout va bien avec Jésus!” you would cry out, even when times were tough financially.
I know now that our dreams start with belief in ourselves and others. Mèsi, Gran.
Remembering and honoring your entrepreneurial legacy brings me closer to the work I do in supporting entrepreneurs so their businesses can thrive. As you know, getting money from banks and other traditional lenders isn’t always possible, and at worst, it can be demoralizing. Haitians know firsthand about the historical ties between racism and debt, so the history of the racial wealth gap in the U.S. comes as no surprise to you. From slavery, false starts during Emancipation, redlining, subprime lending, and more. You know what it's like to be immediately perceived as a risk, and so do the Black entrepreneurs and other entrepreneurs of color I support. They are parents, caretakers, and people who have defied the odds to develop their businesses––just like you did. They are often immediately perceived as risks based on their credit scores and bank statements rather than their character and moral business practices. My work is about redefining risk and supporting entrepreneurs with what we call believe-in-you money––non-extractive, patient capital that is explicitly anti-racist.
My job is to assess entrepreneurs’ readiness to receive loans, and our approach is different from traditional lending. Assessing risk doesn’t start and end with algorithms or financial statements; it starts with developing a relationship with an entrepreneur to understand if there is mission alignment. If we believe they are a good fit but they need to stabilize or grow their business, we partner them with business advising and development support to prepare them for success beyond a loan. When an entrepreneur applies to our program, we start with belief rather than doubt. We lead with care, and when we have questions, we approach them from a place of curiosity rather than shame or admonishment. Like some of the entrepreneurs we support, your entrepreneurial journey didn’t resemble the versions taught at business school, but you did so much more than find a way to make a buck––you made magic. Ultimately, your sacrifices outweighed the payments you received to care for your family, but the price of Black women’s labor can’t really be quantified by a check, can it?
The magic you weaved is the magic I seek. Mèsi, Gran.
When I do my job, you’re on my mind, and I keep your picture by my desk to remind me of your resilience. I think of how you led your life with faith and love while still balancing the practical and harsh real-life truths. I have to do this in my job as well, and when there are hard decisions to make about an entrepreneur’s readiness, I often weigh several truths simultaneously. I often look to how you supported our family and others––starting with belief––and I aim to extend that to the businesses and the entrepreneurs I have the privilege of meeting. My team and I do our best to ensure they are set up for success before we invite them to present to a credit committee. When we get to celebrate their wins, I can’t help but imagine a community like ours investing in a younger version of yourself. What would’ve been possible for you, and generationally within our family, with a community like that behind your wings? I can’t rewind time, but I can live up to the promise of believe-in-you-money while always keeping you in mind. It’s in our family lineage, and I have you to thank for how I put it into practice.
Mwen remen ou anpil, Gran.
Pitit fi ou,
Leila
Leila (She/Her) looks forward to bringing her artist-self to RUNWAY, and hopes to bring creative approaches to financial innovation!
Haitian Creole Translation Notes:
Mèsi – Thank you
Susu – A term used in West Africa and the Caribbean to refer to a type of informal lending circle or savings club arrangement between a small group of people in the community
Tout va bien avec Jésus! – All is well with Jesus!
Mwen remen ou anpil – I love you so much
Pitit fi ou – Your granddaughter
