Despite constant state of 'survival mode,' Indigenous entrepreneurs pursue their dreams
Indigenous retailer Chelsee-Marie Pettit was startled recently when cus‐ tomers at Toronto's Stackt Market asked her where she donates the proceeds from her business.
The question was "just crazy" because Indigenous businesses are not charities, says Pettit, founder of aaniin retail inc., a streetwear com‐ pany.
Her store is like a miniature department store for Indigenous-owned brands. Aaniin means hello in anishnaabemowin, the lan‐ guage of Ojibwe. Pettit is an Anishinaabe member of Aamjiwnaang First Nation.
By the new year, Pettit says she'll be selling exclu‐ sively online.
It's hard. She says she put up her own money to start her business and now she's saddled with significant per‐ sonal debt. But Pettit's dream is still to run Canada's first de‐ partment store that's Indige‐ nous owned.
"There's a fire under me that feels like other big brands would be able to start doing what I'm doing and take the credit away from In‐ digenous hands and make it a part of their businesses," she says.
Ontario has 3,526 Indige‐ nous-owned businesses, yet the businesses make up only 0.7 percent of ownership share in the province, ac‐ cording to the Ontario Cham‐ ber of Commerce.
Pettit isn't the only one who says Indigenous entre‐ preneurs face barriers doing business in Toronto — from high overhead costs and a lack of access to capital and affordable real estate to mis‐ conceptions around cultural appropriation versus appreci‐ ation.
But despite the barriers, some say a program that's fo‐ cused on training Indigenous entrepreneurs is making all the difference.
"One of the primary chal‐ lenges Indigenous businesses in Toronto face is the scarcity of accessible real estate," says Raven Sutherland, mar‐ keting and events co-ordina‐ tor for aaniin retail inc.
"Much of the prime com‐ mercial space is privately owned, making it difficult for Indigenous entrepreneurs to secure locations in high-traffic areas that are crucial for busi‐ ness visibility and customer access."
Reconciliation means opportunities, entre‐ preneur says
Sutherland said there is a problem with "capital con‐ straints," meaning Indigenous business owners often find they have to "bootstrap" their enterprises. That means rely‐ ing heavily on personal fi‐ nances to start and sustain their businesses, which is risky.
"As a result, many Indige‐ nous businesses operate in a constant state of 'survival mode,' striving to overcome these barriers to achieve sta‐ bility and growth," she said.
Sutherland said an ability to adapt and find creative so‐ lutions is key, along with men‐ torship and collaboration from the Indigenous commu‐ nity in Toronto. Strategic plan‐ ning, such as market research and financial management, is also crucial.
To ensure "profits remain within the Indigenous com‐ munity," she said Indigenous ownership needs to be priori‐ tized.
"Maintaining control over our businesses and equity is crucial, rather than relying on outside capital from non-In‐ digenous investors," she said. "This approach empowers our community economically and preserves our autonomy."
Pettit says true reconcilia‐ tion means Indigenous peo‐ ple owning their own com‐ panies and having opportuni‐ ties to thrive. She says she's stayed in business thanks to her own persistence.
Joseph Sagaj, an Anishi‐ naabe artist whose artwork can be seen on the Toronto sign at Nathan Phillips Square, credits the Aboriginal BEST program at the Native Canadian Centre of Toronto (NCCT) in part for his success.
'I pursued my dream,' In‐ digenous artist says
Sagaj says the BEST pro‐ gram, which stands for busi‐ ness and entrepreneurship skills training, helped him hone his business skills, from inventory to bookkeeping, marketing to customer ser‐ vice. Sagaj is of the Sturgeon Clan and from the community of Neskantaga in Northern Ontario.
"I pursued my dream," said Sagaj, who showed off a t-shirt he designed with the word, Spirit, on it, that's for sale at the Cedar Basket Gift Shop. "I came here probably in 2018 and literally it was one of the best programs I've taken. It really taught me how to strategize more effectively in mainstream society."
Sagaj says he started sell‐ ing his designs at powwows then at conferences and events. Now, he has done pri‐ vate and public commissions, designed logos and illustra‐ tions, painted murals and done acrylic painting projects.
"I come from a very small reserve in northern Ontario of 300 people," he said. "When you are put in a situation where there are four million people, with different behav‐ iours and different interests, you have to learn how to market and market yourself."
More than 250 people have participated in the BEST program since 2018, ac‐ cording to Zechariah James, social enterprises manager for the NCCT.
Many Indigenous busi‐ nesses are home based
James says the program has helped more than 150 entre‐ preneurs start new busi‐ nesses in jewelry making, clothing design, painting, health care, and IT — many of which are run out of people's homes.
"It's an excellent time of year to think about support‐ ing more Indigenous busi‐ nesses," James said.
"We often get the ques‐ tion: 'Can I wear indigenouscrafted jewelry or earrings? Is it appropriate for me to do so?' Yes, absolutely it is."
For Indigenous people dreaming of running their own business, Pettit has some advice: "If you think you have a good idea, you defi‐ nitely do, just get started. You are the only one who's ever going to make it happen."