
Laniqua

“When Angel was born,” Tree recalled, “he had really bad eczema.” I was standing in Zambo Aroma listening to Tree Alexander speak briefly about his business.
“The doctors gave us some prescriptions which only caused more discomfort. So, I created our eczema care cream and rubbed him down four times a day, and his skin cleared up in six weeks. When the eczema care cream worked for Angel, everybody else wanted some and that started the snowball effect.”
As I stood there, I enjoyed the aroma of the large spacious shop on 3848 White Plains Road in the Bronx. Smells of faint incense, sweet fragrance and woodsy herbs created a sense of tranquility. My eyes wandered throughout the homely lit shop and took in the images of the prominent Black figures.
The popular photo of Victorian era, Ida B. Wells with her natural hair pulled up into a bun is framed and sits on the ledge of a shelf. There’s also photos of Dr. Carver Washington, Dr. Sabi, and Madam C. J. Walker. There are holiday decorations up and as if playing Finding Waldo, there are many mini figurines of Black Santas, standing erect in several corners.
Towards the front of the shop sit two decorative love sofas and a small coffee table. There is a little girl swinging her legs back and forth as she looks down at a tablet. Along the wall are wooden shelves holding all sorts of products: plastic wrapped naturally made soaps, soy candles, sweet smelling scrubs, skin care cream, fabric sprays, and even handmade laundry detergent.
It was the day before Thanksgiving and the shop buzzed with Tree’s family members. Besides the little girl, Tree’s sons sat nearby playing video games and Tree’s father, Darryl, who was visiting from the city of Chicago, walked about putting smiles on people faces.
Tree Alexander, who is a parent of 5, and a social worker by profession, went to school for cosmetology. However, it was only when his son, Angel, was born that his dream of soap making as a profession began to flourish.
“Business is really good,” Tree says with a smile on his face.”We started this business without a funder, investor or loan. We used all of our pocket change.”
Tree spoke while pulling soap samples out of a jar and stuffing them into a clear plastic bag that held my previously purchased soy candles. He gave me bits and pieces of his story as a business owner and as a Black American.
“I stood outside of this building when it was empty and sold soap on the weekends to save up enough money to get into this space.
Just like Ida B. Wells, Tree traveled, investing in his art before settling down in a new city as a Social Worker.
“I moved to New York when I was 19 and after spending all my money trying to become a broadway star, I practiced social work for ten years. After I brought my first property and the kids started to come, I decided I wanted to work for myself….and this is what I always wanted to do…”
I don’t own the property but that is my next step.”
“Currently, We are doing very well. We have orders from up and down the east cost. We get a lot of business from Georgia and North Carolina. In addition, a lot of my products are made with ingredients from CSA’s and Black owned farms. We get shipments every day from Connecticut and New Jersey.”
Sitting on the counter are flyers of community activities that take place at the store. I take a card for a book club and this reminds Tree of the other side of his business.
“In addition to skincare, we host, paint and sips, book clubs, and Zumba classes. There was no way I was going to start a business and not include the community!”
Tree looks at the soaps sitting on the shelf and put more gifts in my bag.
“This is a gift.” He says while wrapping it. “It’s a wild oats soap. The bar is made with olive oil, oatmeal and activated charcoal…. It’s a very conscience business I want to provide. Our mission is to provide health, healing and education…Not only are our products naturally made but all of our soaps have quotes or affirmations on the labels.”
I pick up the soap bar I purchased, Naja Warrior bar, It reads: Purify and stimulate the conscious mind, memory, and mental performance.
“The Naga Warrior bar tells the story of the African civilizations which are found in South East Asia. These communities are connected to the foundation of Buddhism. They historically traveled on the monsoons between Africa and Asia. This is our most popular soap.” Naga bar which goes for $10.00 a bar on their website.
“Our lavender deodorant talks about the American southern route, which was like a trade route for Black people.” When asked who did the writing, Tree acknowledged his team. “Carlton, my partner, is the writer, he makes everything possible virtually, he does all the websites and social media and I am in the kitchen”.
Showing his generosity, he adds more soaps to the bag.
Tree, “I think that’s enough now,” I said laughing.
“Well, just in case you have friends!” He responds.
While Tree does most of his business in the northeast; his humble beginnings started in the Ida B. Wells projects in Chicago.
Tree was born in the heart of Chicago, in Brownsville. The town named for the people who lived there. The same town Harlem Renaissance writers like Gwendolyn Brooks, Countee Cullen and Langston Hughes wrote about in their poems.
Tree lit up while talking about the history of his hometown. “Brownsville is in the south side of Chicago and runs directly into the Ida B. Wells projects and that’s where the clubs were back in the day. That’s where you went shopping and went to church! Aretha Franklin’s father was associated with that area so you know, the churches were packed! All kinds of stuff happened there!
As a child, Tree’s father taught him about his roots in Chicago through family stories and Black literature. He was exposed to writers like George Schuyler, Richard Wright and Langston Hughes.
“I read Black no More in the 6th grade. I would never forget that story. I now, reread the stories my dad had me read as a kid, I always find something new.”
When I mentioned that I’ll look up the books on Amazon, he offered to lend me his books pulling them out of his library.
He continued, “I love my city. I would definitely go back to do business and networking. But I don’t think I would go back to live. Brownsville is a lost neighborhood now. Most of the stores are closed and boarded-up. It almost looks like other lost American cities. It’s rough. It’s not the same as it was before.”
His father, walked into the shop and stopped by the counter to join the conversation.
“Brownsville?!” He shouted in a teasing manner. “What you know about Brownsville?” Where you from?” His father asked me, making me laugh.
“I am from the Bronx.”
“Where is your family from?”
“My mother is from Gloucester, Virgina which is-“
“Oh, don’t tell me. I’m from Hampton Roads too! I know about Hampton and Norfolk. I was in the service down there! I was at Langley – you know the movie Hidden Figures? about the Black sister with the math? I was at Langley Hampton and I ate at that same cafeteria Taraji ate at in the film!”
Tree’s Father spoke fast and comical while sharing his very serious story about being a Black man in the service. His son looked on and smiled.
“I can’t believe you had your son reading Richard Wright when he was in the 6th grade sir!” I said when I could squeeze a line in. “I can’t even read Richard Wright without shivering now!”
He took a breath and in a serious, teaching tone replied, “Well, It’s important. Every Black boy needs to know about Bigger Thomas. They need to know that eventually you get caught for your dirt. That image needs to be embedded in their minds.”
Perhaps its true images that are embedded into Tree’s mind which are still carrying him today.
Sometimes images of pain and dispair can help create images of health and hope.
No doubt, fundamentally, Tree’s images are connected to his roots which enable him, as a practicing cosmetologist, to use his psychology skills as a community builder. I am almost certain these Images are connected to Brownsville, Bigger and the Bronx which helps him persevere as a business man.
Perhaps those images seem like one large piece work of art – moving, yet still- and even though it can be difficult at times to pull apart Ida from Chicago or separate nostalgia from the future, bringing them all together is what matters because its the root of the mixture that creates the Zambo Aroma.
Ms. Hurley, why do you like Charlie Brown?
That’s what my third graders ask me every year.
God bless their hearts. They come into the third grade innocent. Taking everything at face value.
I never answer that question, because I never thought I liked Charlie Brown. I just think it’s a good tool to use to teach third graders about race in America.
Before school starts, I use my Amazon points to purchase classroom items such as posters, stickers, door décor, awards, window stickers and a new grade book -all decorated with Peanuts characters.
There is a huge welcome poster that hangs above the cozy classroom library. It’s the first poster the children see when they walk in. It says welcome in huge red letters, and features every Charlie Brown character-except Franklin.
There is a poster at the front of the room that states “In a good conversation, one person talks while the other listens,” and there you see Charlie Brown in a good conversation…
There is a Snoopy poster. It has a yellow backdrop and it reminds the children how to be a perfect friend. Lucy has a poster. Linus has a poster. There are posters with the whole gang- except Franklin. As a matter of fact, I can count on one hand how many posters Franklin is in…
So I ask the children to create a poster for Franklin.
As the year goes by the children mature. The calendar at the front of the room finally has a picture of Franklin…
Around this time they are introduced to my Charlie Brown library.
I built the library by searching on eBay and Etsy for Charlie Brown memorabilia. I came across a set of old Charlie Brown books. They are so old the children have to ask special permission to read them and they MUST handle the books with care.
The ones who love to read try to keep them. Before they leave for the summer, I have to search their desks to make sure each one is returned.
During the year, I watch them silently read. It warms my heart to see them understand the humor from the Peanuts characters. Once they start to laugh and enjoy the content, I begin to ask them questions about the images and where they see themselves.
I then pull out the Charlie Brown dictionary- which always amazes them. (It amazed me too!) I add it to our classroom set of dictionaries. As time passes and they learn to define words and use them, I allow them to search the Charlie Brown dictionary.
As the year continues, the class grows older. The students are not new to third grade. They are fully third graders now.
Then one day, someone asks a question about identity – this always happens…someone is always curious about his or her self– and the class begins to argue and no one can come to a consensus. They turn to me and I turn to the dictionaries that they learned to trust and ask them if they ever looked up the words black or white. What do they think it means in a dictionary such as this one? I pull down the Charlie Brown dictionary.
The classroom is usually silent. Everyone thinking.
Then I flip the pages to white.
And read: White is the color of snow. Ducks have white feathers. The sheets on my bed are white. Marshmallows are white.
Next I turn the pages to black and read,
Franklin is Charlie Brown’s little black friend. He is talking to Charlie Brown on the telephone. Black is a color. Black is also another word for Negro, a person with dark skin. The words in this book are black.
The next thing that usually happens is a series of questions. Questions about what is in books and what images we accept without questions.
One year, the conversation happened after a trip to the New York Historical Society. The children were stunned to see a white educator – rather than a black one- teaching them about slavery in New York. They stood, uncertain, and couldn’t answer her questions. When we returned to the classroom, they expressed their discomfort with having a white educator telling them about their history.
Why did you feel uncomfortable? I asked.
Because, what was her ancestors doing when my ancestors were slaves? one little boy said quietly.
What do you think they were doing and why didn’t you ask her that?
A bossy girl at the front of the room replied, Because, that’s rude Ms. Hurley!
Why is that rude? Weren’t you uncomfortable? Was it okay for her to make you feel uncomfortable in your own skin? I’m not telling you to be rude. I am telling you to think. Think about your history and your stories and who is telling them and who will tell them if you don’t learn who you are.
Another year the conversation happened after singing the Black National Anthem. That was two years ago, when Trevor Noah and Roy Wood Jr. celebrated Franklin’s 50th year on the Daily Show. That was the same year the children learned the word stereotype.
Last year COVID happened right when the children started having the conversations. I thought, How can I introduce ‘race in America’ without the setting of the classroom? America quickly answered that question for me. Instead of discussing Franklin and Charlie Brown we cried about Floyd and Michael Brown, Jr.
How will restaurants survive in the winter?
It was Papa Diggs Birthday this Sunday and his excitement transferred to the entire church community.
Somehow celebrating him, meant celebrating his family.