When the place we call home is also the place where we work and create, it defines us as much as we define it. Makers and founders everywhere are at the heart of the communities where they do business. This series,And Nowhere Else, examines the relationship between the places they live and what they choose to create.
In the story of Detroit—the one where the city is all but driven into the ground by a dying auto industry—there are two possible endings. The popular version is that it’s had a comeback, a renaissance brought on by young creatives moving to (or back to) Detroit. But this is not a comeback story. It’s a story about survival, about makers, and about deep roots.
Detroit has undeniably prevailed through the most catastrophic blows to its economy. Once, hundreds of thousands of people worked in the city’s auto industry until the largest car manufacturer closed and kicked off a decades-long decline. Think riots, government corruption, and eventually bankruptcy. But though automakers left the rust belt in their dust, the manufacturing heart of the city beat on, and instead of cars, that workforce is using its skills to make everything from denim and bikes to jewelry and coffee.
In a parallel timeline, Detroit is a prolific arts and music scene, undaunted by the city’s ups and downs. Perhaps best known for its street art—once crumbling, abandoned buildings are, after all, a perfect canvas—Detroit is world-renowned for its open-air galleries, drawing tourists in droves to installations like The Alley Project (TAP) and The Heidlberg Project.
A new Detroit, steeped in history, was formed at the intersection of art and manufacturing. Behind it are the people—people local café owner David Merritt calls “amazingly real and resilient.” We met David and five other inspiring founders who told us why they choose to work and create in Detroit and nowhere else.
Bikes with a backstory
Zakary Pashak moved to Detroit just as the city was about to file for bankruptcy, launching his business during murky times. But although financing options for small businesses were limited, the support, he says, was abundant—even at the bank. “It was real enthusiasm,” he says, “and I’ve found that throughout the city with everyone I interacted with.”
[Manufacturing] is in the blood of the citizenry of Detroit.
Detroit Bikes交通是Zak的结果的兴趣policy and was his own contribution to the new face of Detroit: one less reliant on cars in every way. In his 50,000-square-foot factory—the largest bike manufacturing facility in the U.S.—his team builds bicycles for the casual rider, not the extremist. “I’m more interested in transportation alternatives,” he says.
而Zak is the brains behind the business, Detroit Bikes was brought to life by a skilled workforce eager for jobs. “[Manufacturing] is in the blood of the citizenry of Detroit,” he says. “My role is employing the right people.” One of those people is Henry Ford II, a bike mechanic and one of the founders of The Slow Roll, a weekly cycling event that unites Detroit’s bike community. “I’m from a family of manufacturing,” Henry says. “To continue that is something I’m really proud of.”
Beyond cars
Ron Watters’ first love was architecture. It’s why many of the T-shirts printed by his company,One Custom City,特征图形的建筑。而he ultimately chose a career in product design, he says he’s still inspired by architecture—specifically in his hometown of Detroit.
而Ron once left the city, he returned to his stomping grounds to start his business. He saw the potential in a city with a rich maker history and feels optimistic about its future. “Detroit’s going to be more out in the world, producing things again that aren’t just cars,” he says.
Ron’s path to launching One Custom City in 2008 started first with furniture design. He was handcrafting custom pieces but found that his friends and family couldn’t afford them. Printed T-shirts gave his network an easy way to contribute. Now, Ron collaborates with locals—small businesses and musicians and nonprofits alike—to print designs on everything from record sleeves to aprons. “Detroit is a very knit community that really steps up and supports people,” he says.
An eye for eyewear
Ashley Addrow-Pierson was working for a mortgage lender while aspiring to launch her own business someday. The idea that would later become her online eyewear store,Alley & Eye, was sparked “after about the fiftieth time someone asked me about my glasses,” she says. The native Detroiter had a knack, it seemed, for styling and sourcing great frames.
Alley & Eye started as a hobby but evolved into a full-time operation after record producer and artist Swizz Beatz allegedly purchased a pair of her frames off the face of a customer in New York, she says. “It was in that moment I [told] myself I might be onto something.”
Ashley took advantage of her hometown’s drive to stimulate its entrepreneurial economy. She honed her business skills at Build Institute, one of several of Detroit’s resources for budding founders like her. “I think Detroit has always been supportive ofentrepreneurs,” she says. She loves the city for its diversity, too, and has styled everyone from street artists to executives. In late 2019, she plans to dip her toes into manufacturing and launch her own eyewear line shortly thereafter.
The graffiti harvest
In 2013, Amy Peterson was living next to the Coalition on Temporary Shelter (COTS), where she met incredible women transitioning out of abuse and poverty. Along with her business partner, Diana Russell, Amy aimed to contribute to her community by teaching classes at COTS. But then the idea ballooned. “[We] thought, what if we could create a company that would teach a woman to fish,” says Amy. “What does that look like?” Though neither of the women were jewelry makers, they foundedRebel Nellto provide meaningful opportunities to local women while creating a product that was unique to Detroit.
So how did the former sports lawyer end up leaving her dream job to start a jewelry-making social enterprise? “I don’t necessarily know that there were incentives,” says Amy. “I think it was just time and place, and my love for the city.”
As much as this company belongs to myself and Diana, and all the women that work here, we truly feel that Detroit is a part of our company as well.
Rebel Nell celebrates the history of local street art by repurposing layers of paint that flake off with environmental wear. But they never directly touch the walls. “We have a lot of respect for the muralists,” says Amy. The harvested paint then becomes one-of-a-kind jewelry, handcrafted by women hired through Rebel Nell’s partnerships with local organizations. They train in jewelry design, entrepreneurship, and life skills, empowering employees to gain independence once they’ve moved on from their roles at Rebel Nell.
Amy says she’s grateful to Detroit for embracing the idea from the outset. The partners started the business with the help of a crowdfunding campaign, and locals rallied to help them meet their goals. “As much as this company belongs to myself and Diana, and all the women that work here,” says Amy, “we truly feel that Detroit is a part of our company as well.”
But first, people
Detroit natives David and Jon Merritt grew up watching their parents dedicate their lives to their community and church. In 2016, inspired by those acts of service, the brothers converted their church’s bookstore intoThe Narrow Way Café and Shop. Their congregation loved it.
We are so honored to be part of this major focal point in the city returning to its former glory.
Like Ashley, the Merritt brothers tapped into Detroit’s small business resources, receiving a matching grant from the Motor City March program. The money helped them move The Narrow Way from its home inside the church to a dedicated retail space on the historic Livernois Avenue of Fashion. In its new location, the café reaches a wider swath of the Detroit community and has become part of the rebirth of a neighborhood once in decline. “We are so honored to be part of this major focal point in the city returning to its former glory,” says David.
Though they’ve expanded the business to catering and selling coffee-related goods online, David and his brother still put people first, carrying on the legacy of Mom and Dad. “The people of Detroit are amazingly resilient and real,” he says. “It’s an honor to connect and build relationships with them.”
A city with substance
多发生在世界服装的生产conditions that are less than ideal for its workers. Eric Yelsma believed he could do better. In a city with a backbone of manufacturing, he aimed to design a new kind of apparel model—one that prioritizes people. Eric foundedDetroit Denimin 2010 and did just that, providing better working conditions and a living wage to his employees.
I am convinced that I couldn’t have done this anywhere else, other than Detroit.
Detroit Denim not only manufactures its denim, apparel, and accessories right in Detroit, it also sources all of its raw materials from the U.S. “We’re not just a brand...we make our own stuff,” he says. And, through partnerships with other local businesses (they make aprons for food trucks and restaurants), every facet of the business is kept close to home. “I am convinced that I couldn’t have done this anywhere else, other than Detroit,” says Eric. “There’s remarkable substance to this city that’s really inspiring.”
Feature image byVerónica Grech
Additional reporting by Shuang Esther Shan
