An Open Letter to the Gatekeepers of Space

To those who own the buildings we dream within,

I recently walked away from a lease negotiation in Oakland’s Uptown—not because I lacked vision, commitment, or the means to build something beautiful. I walked away because the conversation made one thing clear: my value, and the value of the business I’ve fought to create, was being measured in square footage, not in soul.

I’m not just trying to rent a space. I’m part of a movement, one that’s quietly, tirelessly, and courageously trying to reimagine what business looks like in a post-pandemic world. A world where sustainability isn’t just a checkbox on a building permit but a lived relationship between people, place, and purpose.

This isn’t some abstract idea. “It’s” relevance, the very whispers of origin stories. It’s personal. It continues to cost us everything, and still we rise… still we continue. Giving up isn’t an option, not when we believe in something better, something real, based on an equity that offers a profitability that provides, something that can stitch a fractured community back together through creativity, care, and commerce rooted in humanity.

Small businesses like mine are the lifeblood of this city. The soul of Uptown. We’re not liabilities. We’re not placeholders between tenants. We are the reason these historic buildings ever mattered at all.

To preserve a building while devaluing the people who could bring it to life is to misunderstand preservation entirely. These spaces were built not just for admiration, but for inhabitation. For risk. For commerce. For relationships. For us.

So when I see landlords investing in legacy architecture while dismissing the lived realities of those trying to build something inside those walls, it tells me everything about where our values still diverge. And that’s the tragedy: there was an opportunity for real partnership here. One that could’ve honored the past while actively co-creating a better future.

But I’ve also learned this: not every “no” is a failure. Sometimes it’s a filter. A sacred boundary reminding us of what we won’t sacrifice just to be allowed in.

To every gatekeeper holding the keys to places where dreams want to grow, please, look again. We’re not asking for charity. We’re asking for alignment. Equity. A shared vision. And if you’re truly passionate about sustainability and community, you’ll recognize us not as a risk, but as your greatest possible return.

Sincerely,
The Future Business Owners of America
Me: Stylist. Advocate. Builder of new worlds in old rooms