Tree Roots among the Suds at Zambo Aroma

“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. 

Tree Alexander and some members of his Family

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.” 

Tree Alexander packing soap and candles with a Black Santa sitting on the register .Opposite are flyers from community organizations

“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.” 

Naga Warrior products, the most popular product at Zambo Aroma

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.

A visit to Norfolk, Virginia

 

When I was a little girl, my mom would send me along with my siblings to Virginia to spend time with her family. Those trips south ended too quickly and as an adult I have only a few memories.The memories are the ones my siblings and I spoke often about when we returned back home.

The most popular memory is of  my little sister telling my Grandma her spanking didn’t hurt. We were all stun when she spoke back after getting a spanking! And, we remember what happen afterwards, my Grandma got another switch from the tree outside. Somehow my sister became a hero of us all and we celebrated that story by reciting it to all who would listen. We didn’t care that she got another spanking, what mattered was, she was not afraid to talk back!

Another favorite character of our memories was The Eagle. For some reason, we were also obsessed with The Eagle. Our grandma would warn us not to wander far from her house (which was in the country) and told us of the bears and other scary animals which lurked behind the trees. We were most afraid of The Eagle that could come at anytime and swoop a child up from the ground.

One day her stories turned into a frightful event when she ran outside her house while we were all playing and told us to hurry back in. She could see The Eagle in the distance. We ran back inside and watched The Eagle land in her yard. We were all sitting on the couch looking out the window, our hearts beating fast. The only two not crying were my older sisters. But everyone was truly afraid.

When we arrived back in New York, our mom had a time telling us that The Eagle didn’t travel to the Bronx.

Then there’s memories that are very faint.

One of me stepping on my older cousin’s feet just to see him get mad and ask my grandma ‘What’s wrong with her? She keeps stepping on my feet!” But of course I don’t know which cousin it was? Andre, Raymond?

Then there’s one of my grandma telling us to come back inside. She had a swing set attached to a see-saw that was made out of metal. It was green and white and as a little girl, I thought it was very huge. Every morning after a hot breakfast, we would run outside to play.

I remember the clothes line and the wash machine at the back of  her little house. The clothes were always white and smelled of fresh lemon and grass. I would run back and forth between the white sheets until my grandma told me to stop.

I remember eating lunch and dinner. She would make mashed potatoes and ground beef with lima beans. That’s the only meal I could remember. I think it was my favorite.

And we always ate icys or ice cream for desert and snack. It was served to us at the diner table. The ice cream was always served in cheap, plastic bowls. The ones you’ll find at the dollar store. The icys were always on a stick. I remember us watching our grandma bite the icys without a care in the world. We didn’t know she could not feel the cold because of her false teeth.

Of course she took us to church services but I don’t remember much. So recently when my cousin drove me to the temple in Norfolk, I was certain it was my first time there until my aunt reminded me that I used to come to Norfolk as a child.

I did?

Yes. With your Grandma.

As she spoke, the memory of the layout of the church returned to me. I remember thinking how strange it was that all the pews in the sanctuary were not facing toward the pulpit, but some were on steps and placed against the walls. I remember running up those steps, thinking, a church with steps in the sanctuary is so cool!  I remember sitting with my older cousins, Shawn, Mona and Dina who had the best handbags filled with stuff to satisfy a little girl’s imagination. I remember being given money to go to the offering but then, that’s where the memory stops.

 

Blackberries

 

We drove past a sign that said Blackberry farm.

We backed up and made a U turn and drove down the road.

We expected to see blackberry bushes but my Aunt said the berries were in the fridge, which indeed it was.

There was a metal box attached to the side wall that asked the buyer to pay 5 dollars. We didn’t see any cameras making sure people paid but we suspected there were. We paid our money and left.

The next night, we made blackberry dumping and ate it with butter pecan ice cream.