Connecticut entrepreneurs of color face systemic barriers in business operations
By Kalleen Rose Ozanic
A metal roll-up door is painted with the letters “TBLR,” with dollar bills and gold coins scattered across the artwork, as if it were raining money.
Enter through a tinted glass door: jaunty rap music and coconut air freshener waft through the air. To the left, a mannequin draped in silver-colored chains with a lightbulb-shaped medallion–the letters “TBLR” inside. To the right, a plush cat reclines on a black leather couch.
Scores of shirts, denim pants, sweatshirts and trucker hats line the sales floor.
This is Think Broke Look Rich, a clothing and custom apparel store at 368 Lombard St. in New Haven, Connecticut.
Photo by Kalleen Rose Ozanic.
Compres sells custom clothing, hats and rugs at his store and on Instagram.
Justin Compres, 27, runs the store on the same street that he grew up on. He has lived in New Haven since he was 7. He graduated from Wilbur Cross High School and started going to Gateway Community College in 2013, but dropped out halfway through the fall semester.
“I didn't do good in school,” he said. “Period.”
Still, he found a path in customizing clothes.
After he dropped out of college, he found pictures and designs online and brought them to a Connecticut Post Mall kiosk to order custom T-shirts for himself and his friends.
Once, on his personal Instagram account, he captioned a post with the words, “think broke look rich.”
“I was just putting it as a quote,” Compres said. “Think broke, look rich. And people were like, ‘yo, I like that.’”
Compres trademarked the name in 2014. He sold clothes on Instagram and bootlegged his products on the back of a bicycle or out of a shed at his aunt’s East Rock home for six years, until he opened his storefront on Nov. 19, 2020.
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Compres is one of over 150 entrepreneurs of color in New Haven. He joins the likes of Mercy Quaye and Alisa Bowens-Mercado, who own diverse businesses with a vast array of products and services.
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While everything from their business models to their histories are different, many of their challenges remain the same.
With no education in business or finance, Compres said running
the store can often be challenging.
“I don't really know anything about business,” he said.
“But as I'm doing it, I'm learning, you know?”
Compres said coordinating with wholesalers and figuring out
what products to customize and sell are common challenges
for him. He opened his first bank account when he opened the
store. Filing taxes and managing money has been a
learn-as-you-go process.
He said he has never taken out loans for Think Broke Look Rich.
When he needs to learn a new skill or is confused about an
aspect of running his business, he’ll watch a YouTube video to
educate himself.
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Compres prices his goods intuitively; he said he’ll know how much he paid for an item wholesale, charge high enough to make his money back and turn a profit.
The business knowledge Compres does have, though, comes from an under-the-table market.
“I knew people from selling weed,” he said. “Those same people were the ones buying the clothes.”
But Compres doesn’t recommend this path to people who may want to start their own businesses–and he doesn’t want that path for himself anymore, either.
“Instead of selling drugs, I'd rather sell clothes,” he said.
Photo by Kalleen Rose Ozanic.
Compres said it is important to stay on top of trends when he plans a new clothing drop.
His revenue totals $3,000 to $4,500 monthly before $1,200 rent for the storefront. He has one employee, his cousin, Frank Ayala.
Another cousin, Jaylin Santana, is not on the payroll, but hangs out and helps around the store. They both help him figure out what styles “younger kids” like, which challenges him.
“I grew up in this neighborhood, and there's good vibes (in) here, you know?” Santana said. “When I need something to go out and wear, I could just come here and get dressed.”
Compres said that he likes to create a comfortable community atmosphere in his store.
“People just wanna sit down and talk,” he said. “I know some people don't have other people to talk to and they just bottle everything in. A lot of people feel comfortable coming in here, especially the kids.”
Compres said that keeping his store a part of his community is valuable, personally and profitably.
“This spot is perfect, and just the people,” he said. “I'd have to raise my prices in a different area because of the people that come in, and I'm in the hood right here. So I try to keep my prices at a good, fair price so people could really actually (shop).”
Compres said that a sense of community is important to the success of his business.
Jesse Phillips, coordinator of inclusive growth at the Greater New Haven Chamber of
Commerce, said engagement with the community is vital.
“Community creates a sense of togetherness that goes beyond boundaries and looks
and gender,” he said. “You just want people to feel good and at home and at the end
of day. If that is your goal, you're gonna have the top rating for customer service
because people feel a sense of belonging.”
Compres and Phillips aren’t alone in this belief.
A 2007 study indicates that a small business’ success hinges on its social network.
Small businesses that offer reliability, resources and goods maintain a high level
of social capital in addition to their earnings.
Compres said that the local economy and entrepreneurs of color would benefit if Connecticut offered more community-building programs and worked to create spaces for people in the Black, Indigenous, people of color community.
“They just need more activities and more places for people to go and like to learn and feel more comfortable,” he said.
Additionally, the sense of community from being “in the hood” allows for participation in a local micro-market that thrives on ethnic and community likenesses.
This micro-market success was abundant in ethnic communities in the United States during the Jim Crow era.
Segregation prior to the Civil Rights Act of 1964 catalyzed local business booms in BIPOC communities as they developed local economies to supply the demand of goods and services that people of color were not able to access in “whites only” establishments.
When the act was passed, BIPOC entrepreneurs’ economic livelihoods became endangered by increased competition from white-owned businesses.
Photo provided by Jesse Phillips.
Phillips said recognizing BIPOC entrepreneurs and supporting their businesses is important.
In 1963, white families, on average, amassed $121,000 more wealth than families of color. In 2016, white families averaged $700,000 more.
In the 20th century, and into today, the primary method of wealth acquisition in the United States is home ownership–Connecticut itself had policies that prohibited land ownership and revoked deeds from freed slaves beginning in the late 18th century.
BIPOC people gained federal protections against discriminatory housing practices in 1968, but long-standing traditions of discrimination exist even today with Black Americans facing unfair practices in real estate. An estimated 21% to 23% of homes in Black neighborhoods are valued below what they “would be in non-Black neighborhoods.”
A lack of generational wealth makes entrepreneurship more inaccessible and limits the growth of generational business knowledge for BIPOC people in the United States.
​​Black entrepreneurs represent only 2.2% of all employer businesses nationally, while Black people comprise 14% of the country’s population, according to Harry Amadasun Jr., an East Hartford town councilor and the data team lead at Shop Black CT.
What’s more, he said, it’s difficult to concretely determine the impact of these generational barriers today because of a lack of information specific to BIPOC entrepreneurship in Connecticut–the data is “not there, and it's not easily accessible.”
Amadasun said that while Connecticut does collect entrepreneurial and business ownership data, it is not specific to BIPOC communities and makes it difficult to determine what courses of action are best to support a diverse economy.
“(If) we're not stratifying (the data) by race, how are we going to make any impactful policies or changes to the business landscape?” he said. “If we don't understand how that business landscape looks, how that business landscape feels, and their overall experience as a business?”
Amadasun said one piece of information, though, is clear. Black female business ownership is booming. From 2014 to 2019, Black female-owned businesses grew 8% yearly.
‘If we drink it, we should own it’
Alisa Bowens-Mercado owns Rhythm Brewing Company in New Haven. Her beers are distributed in approximately 250 bars, taprooms and stores across New York and Connecticut.
Bowens-Mercado is part of the 2.9% of breweries nationally that are 100% female-owned and 0.4% of all Black-owned breweries.
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“If you don't see black brewers, female brewers, you're going to be like, ‘Black folks, black women or people of color, just don't brew,’” she said. “And so we make it a mission and a point to get out there and let people know that's not true.”
Bowens-Mercado said underrepresentation can be challenging, especially when she encounters racism. She said that part of her efforts with her company are to disprove Euro-centric biases in her industry.
“When you are the new kid on the block…that doesn't look like the rest of the kids on the block, then what happens?,” she said. “People tend to be like, ‘Well, who does this kid think they are?’ They think they're better.”
Despite the challenges, she said that they “exhilarate” her–and that she won’t shy away from one, either.
“I’m gonna dive in the pool and pray that there is water in it.”
The more adversity she faces, the closer she is to the finish line–national distribution.
First, she wants to expand across the entire Northeast.
She said existing in the market from which she consumes is important.
“If we drink it, we should own it,” she said.
Black Americans’ buying power is valued at $1.6 trillion–9% of the nation’s total
buying power, but 86% of employing businesses in the United States are owned
by white people.
Black entrepreneurs are operating on narrower margins than their white
counterparts and aren’t able to retain as many employees. In 2020,
approximately 66% of Black-owned businesses had a staff of 10 employees
or less, and only 3% had a staff of 50 or more employees.
Rhythm Brewing Company is a “labor of love” that Bowens-Mercado
operates with the help and support of her family and husband. She
has two interns from the Sacred Heart University Brewing Science program.
Bowens-Mercado is a third-generation entrepreneur and credited her parents, Millicent and William Bowens, who own a painting and construction company, for raising her with hard working values. She said they imparted a strong work ethic, as she would “go with (her) mom into the office” and her brother went into the construction field with their father.
Millicent Bowens said that she wanted her children to know the value of hard work so they could be the best at whatever they chose to do.
"Even if you work on a garbage truck, be the best garbage picker that you could be," she said.
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Bowens said she wanted the business and life skills she taught her children to help them in the future.
Therefore, a lack of generational business knowledge did not pose a barrier to Bowens-Mercado–raising capital did.
“We are not placed in those positions of privilege, because you know, maybe my forefathers don't have a million dollars sitting in the bank where they can pass that along to me from generation to generation to generation,” she said. “This is grassroots. I have to go out there, hit the ground running, and hope that someone believes in my vision.”
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Bowens-Mercado said she started her company with less than $20,000, and that it took five years to raise capital for Rhythm Brewing Company, when she finally convinced an angel investor to fund the venture.
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Because of agreements with her angel investor and attorneys, she said she could not disclose her annual revenue, though it is “less than $125,000.”
She said she is grateful for her investor–and that more wealthy investors need to take a chance on BIPOC business ownership.
“Take a check, sink in ($100,000),” she said. “That's not going to break anyone's bank. We want to see the development, and especially diversity and inclusion, in business.”
BIPOC people have not historically retained positions of power, Bowens-Mercado said, and more investors open to funding entrepreneurs of color would help turn the tide.
“There are various small businesses out here,” she said “People of color that want the same opportunity, that have great business plans, that have grind, grit and grassroots, and they're just looking for a chance.”
Photo provided by Alisa Bowens-Mercado.
Bowens-Mercado has collaborated with Two Roads Brewing Company and Boston Brewing Company's flagship brand, Samuel Adams.
Photo by Kalleen Rose Ozanic
Bowens-Mercado's flagship beer, "Rhythm Unfiltered Lager," has an ABV of 5.5%.
‘I'm building the plane as we fly it’
Mercy Quaye is another of New Haven’s successful Black
entrepreneurs. In May 2019, she launched a public relations
agency, The Narrative Project.
Unlike Bowens-Mercado, startup costs did not pose a risk
to Quaye’s firm.
Quaye’s PR firm is a service-based company, meaning that
the agency has fewer overhead costs than a business that
produces goods, like beer or clothing.
“With every new partner that we took on, I was able to
either hire or reinvest it back into the business,” she said.
“Being a service-based organization really meant that we
could grow at the rate of our partner growth.”
Since the launch, Quaye’s firm has partnered with
approximately 50 different clients, among them,
Planned Parenthood and the American Civil Liberties Union.
TNP has a roster of 39 clients, or “partners,” as Quaye
prefers to call them.
Quaye said TNP turned $2 million in revenue in 2022 and
has 22 employees.
While she didn’t need startup funds for TNP, that doesn’t mean Quaye doesn’t have to stretch a penny for business operations.
“I’m seeing a month out just now,” she said.
To improve the climate of BIPOC business ownership in Connecticut, Quaye said the state needs to invest and subsidize entrepreneurs of color with $100,000 seed funding grants, as long as they retain an employee workforce. She said this would help her business and many other BIPOC businesses.
“I would sleep a lot better at night,” she said. “I would hire more people. I would invest in my staff. I would send them to trainings. I would invest in my partners. I would invest in tools and bigger lines of revenue.”
She said a huge issue for BIPOC entrepreneurs with a lack of capital is limitations on growth.
“Risks that might generate reward down the line?” she said. “We can't take those risks, because we can't afford them.”
CTNext is a non-profit that offers microgrants that can give an entrepreneur up to $10,000 a year, but they are not targeted toward diversity, equity and inclusion or BIPOC businesses.
The state has a handful of microloan and loan programs for BIPOC entrepreneurs, like the Minority Business Revolving Loan Fund–but loans have to be repaid.
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A 2007 study found that Black Americans had approximately 9% of the wealth of white Americans, less access to the capital necessary to launch businesses, and, in turn, “higher failure rates, lower sales and profits, less employment among Black-owned businesses, and less survivability of the business.”
With business ownership inherently riskier, Quaye said that she has to work “twice as hard to have half as much.”
In addition, access to education deeply impacts a nascent Black entrepreneur’s odds of success–entrepreneurs with at least some college education were more successful than those without, a 2008 study found.
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This is especially relevant, given that Connecticut's predominantly non-white school districts average $2,931 less funding per student than their predominantly white counterparts and outnumber their student bodies 7-to-1.
Quaye earned a bachelor’s in journalism in 2013 and a master’s in public relations, social media and applied communications in 2018 at Quinnipiac University, though she has no formal education in business.
No one in her family has owned a business and she doesn’t have any generational business knowledge. When Quaye encounters an unfamiliar aspect of business management, she has to staff it out.
“I'm building the plane as we fly it,” she said. “Every time I got to a place that was beyond my knowledge it was like, ‘All right. Gotta bring in a new person. That's beyond my knowledge.’”
With generational business knowledge and access to capital being a barrier to many entrepreneurs of color, BIPOC people are left with a sizable “inheritance,” Quaye said–but it’s not money.
“Something that is ingrained in us from a really young age is that we have a troublesome burden, a troublesome inheritance that is race in America,” she said. “If I were to think about it every single day, I would be distracted from the work that I have to do every day.”
What makes TNP different from other public relations agencies in Connecticut, Quaye said, is radical anti-racist and anti-capitalist business practices–working exclusively with mutually-aligned, radically-aligned organizations.
If an organization does not consider itself anti-racist or if TNP finds it doesn’t uphold similar anti-racist values, TNP will not take on that partner.
Additionally, TNP practices an anti-capitalist salary scale: no top earner is making more than three times the amount of the lowest earner. Quaye said the lowest salary at the agency is $55,000, putting an internal salary cap at $165,000.
Quaye implements anti-capitalism in the agency because she said capitalist practices are harmful–she prefers another economic system.
“I think that competitive socialism is one of the best ways for us to ensure everyone has what they need, while also allowing for competition,” she said. “I think that competition is good for the market. But we should not be encouraging markets that allow people to go hungry.”
Additionally, Quaye said that capitalism does not create spaces that are personally fulfilling.
“I think that I personally have a disdain for capitalism, wherein it feels like it exploits and zeroes out in places where it could celebrate and lift up,” she said. “I wanted to create a space, a work environment where people felt celebrated and uplifted.”
Quaye said that when she launched the firm, she wanted to create a space to not only practice anti-capitalism, but dismantle systemic racism.
Photo provided by Mercy Quaye.
Quaye said she employs anti-capitalist practices to create a supportive workplace environment.
Generating long-term solutions for BIPOC entrepreneurs
Being anti-racist and reversing the negative effects of systemic racism for BIPOC business owners can be done in a number of ways.
Justin Compres wants to see more spaces for BIPOC people in New Haven. Alisa Bowens-Mercado and Mercy Quaye want to see higher rates of investment in BIPOC businesses from private and public funds, respectively.
These measures can all help entrepreneurs, and businesses, of color. These are short-term solutions that can make a difference for businesses right now. And sometimes short-term solutions are necessary, Jesse Phillips said.
“Sometimes folks want the quick program,” he said. “I think there's not not a need for that, because you want to figure out, ‘how do you stop the immediate trauma, the bleeding?’”
Phillips said the single best thing New Haven could do at this point in time is a disparity study.
He said a disparity study would allow New Haven to determine what the greatest barriers are to BIPOC entrepreneurship and better understand the climate of BIPOC business ownership to determine long-term solutions.
The greatest barrier to a disparity study? Cost.
“A lot of places don't want to do it because it's expensive,” he said. “(But) you can't know the extent of a problem if you haven't done the research on it.”
Phillips estimates that it would cost the state between ​​$120,000 and $175,000–though a comprehensive study could top at half a million dollars.
In addition to cost, time is a barrier; the study could take between two and five years, which is a hard sell to officials who often want short-term solutions.
Amadasun of Shop Black CT agrees with implementing a disparity study; it helps to uncover some of the gaps in data regarding BIPOC entrepreneurship in Connecticut.
“A disparity study is probably one of the many things that would be needed to address the issues that are faced by BIPOC small business owners,” he said.
“I think that when we're looking at having the business landscape match the communities that serve those businesses, I think it's impossible to do that work without having an understanding of what that business landscape really looks like.”
Phillips said that disparity studies have been done in other cities that have high populations of BIPOC people, like Philadelphia and Washington, D.C.
In Washington, D.C, the study determined that microbusinesses “face substantial barriers in competing for and participating in (Washington, D.C. government) work” because of high revenue requirements in the millions.
The issue likely would not arise in New Haven, as the city has a far smaller scale of governmental operations, as it is not a national or state capital. Disparity studies will reveal different barriers in different cities, which is why New Haven needs one, Phillips said.
“Urban cities are setting funds aside for disparity studies,” he said. “Some of them have been focused on general security. Some have been narrowed down on economic disparity. So, all those are happening outside of Connecticut–which is sad.”