The Salt Eaters
⤏ AMID A YEAR OF SMALL-BUSINESS CLOSURES, ASHA GRANT’S BOOKSHOP FOR BLACK WOMEN AND NON-BINARY WRITERS IS DESTINED TO OPEN
⤏ WRITTEN BY KATIE ALICE GREER
⤏ PHOTOS BY ALLEGRA MESSINA
If there is an art to transforming zeitgeist into blueprints for the future, Asha Grant could teach a course. Last summer saw an unprecedented surge in international support for Black Lives Matter, bringing about an influx of support for Black-owned businesses. As 2020 confronted a global pandemic, various fascist regimes, and insecure housing and employment, a steadfast ethos emerged: shop small, shop Black-owned.
Grant is in Inglewood when we speak, her hometown and now the home of The Salt Eaters Bookshop. Opening later this year, Salt Eaters prioritizes the work of black women and non-binary writers. Grant — no stranger to synthesizing her passion for the subjects of Black culture, education and community building — honored namesake The Salt Eaters by Toni Cade Bambara. Originally published in 1980, Bambara’s novel about trauma, healing; about the power in community organizing remains all the more relevant today.
In 2019, Grant founded the LA chapter of the Free Black Womens’ Library. The community that emerged prompted the former educator and social media marketer to dream even bigger about structural, Black, agender and femme-centric community development. Enter: The Salt Eaters’ Bookshop crowdfunding campaign. The GoFundMe garnered 1.5 thousand shares, 1.8 thousand donors, and collected $65,000 in its first week, revealing to Grant just how much others shared her desire for the “literary hub and resting ground” she was imagining.
How do we dream about a future we actually want to see? How do we combat the anti-Black and anti-working class effects of gentrification in cities where small businesses — often the last stand against box store culture and low wages — are being forced to close?
With The Salt Eaters’ Bookshop, Grant is tackling some of these questions and imagining a future “for dreamers, seekers of knowledge, creatives, writers, community archivists, artists, change agents, and those invested in a liberation practice that holds Black women, girls, femmes, and non-binary folks at the center.”
The Salt Eaters Bookshop is set to open Spring 2021 at 302 E. Queen Street, Inglewood, California 90301.
KATIE ALICE GREER: Tell me a little bit about who you are and how The Salt Eaters Bookshop came to be.
ASHA GRANT: My name is Asha Grant, I’m a queer Black girl who is obsessed with books and nerding out over art and all things creative with black people and how we excpress ourselves. I used to be a teacher. My favorite part was staying after school and eating Hot Cheetos with my girls’ club. I noticed in every phase of my career I was gravitating towards the same things. [In college] I studied English, African diaspora studies, and women's studies. Everything I’ve done in my career has been centered around those three things. Eventually I realized I wanted to focus on that. I was really unhappy with the limitation of the K-12 system and wanted to live a more expansive, authentic life. I quit my job even though I’d recently been promoted and gotten a raise. I was working retail for a few months, basically going back to my 21 year old self, working at Anthropologie and babysitting…
K: Sure. Just trying to re-figure it out…
A: Yeah, I had a complete restart. Part of that was launching the Free Black Womens’ Library here in LA. I started building this community here in my hometown around Black women’s stories, and that was really profound for me. Growing up, I didn’t feel like the experiences of black femmes were centered at all. I didn’t get to see that for real until I went to Spelman [College], so I was shook. It was a really healing experience for me.
K: You mention some great books that made a big impression on you in other interviews, including Sandra Cisneros’ The House On Mango Street and Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye. Can you remember the first time you saw yourself in a story?
A: There’s a book called Dancing In The Wings by Debbie Allen, about a black girl living in Inglewood, and at the time I was living in Inglewood. She has dreams of becoming a ballerina and because of her height and physical form, she’s always been made to feel like she wasn’t good enough to be a ballerina. This was pre-Misty Copeland times. She has an Uncle who talks to her and gives her confidence. He tells her that her big feet are beautiful. It reminded me of my own grandpa, I had a lot of conversations with him about self confidence. So I felt like, this book is about me, this book is for me. The illustrations are gorgeous, so reading it I was like, how could she not see how beautiful and how perfect she is?
“Launching this GoFundMe and Instagram, I realized that people all over are invested in this bookshop, even knowing they may never actually [visit in person].”
K: I love this thing you said, that growing up, “reading was a huge part of how I came to understand myself.” I felt like that growing up, too. I would imagine in our typically white-washed culture, that’s especially difficult for black kids trying to understand themselves.
A: Yeah. I went to a pretty white elementary school. I wouldn’t typically come across a book like Dancing In The Wings unless somebody sought me out to show it to me, or if it was Black History Month or something. I remember people reading us stories that had to do with animals or white people. As someone who has worked in education, I know that many people still assume that stories about Black characters are not going to be relatable to other kids.
K: Oh God.
A: Right…but somehow white people stories are for everyone?
K: I’ve been thinking about the ways COVID-19 has limited our access to physical space, and how that impacts community building and interaction. Were the limitations to physical space presented by COVID-19 an influence for you?
A: Yeah, totally. Like everyone else, I’ve been noticing how many of our treasured small businesses are shutting down. This has been a cause of great concern for me, and for folks in our communities who rely on these spaces. I was motivated to start this so that there are still places for us to go when this pandemic ends, specifically for those who need them the most. I feel like that’s Black women, specifically trans women, it’s Black non-binary people, queer people. I want to make sure that our community has a specific place for them to go when this thing is over. A place where they can feel really affirmed and know it was made for their safety, love and affirmation in mind.
“Someone would tell me they heard about it from the link in someone’s bio.”
K: That’s a really nice thing to be looking forward to as we’re nearing the year anniversary of quarantine. What are the ways COVID-19 has influenced the events you’re envisioning for The Salt Eaters’ Bookshop?
A: I want to make sure there is a hands on digital component to our events. Before COVID-19, especially with work I do with the [Free Black Womens’] Library, if you’re not there you’re just not there. And I think there’s something special about that. Prior to the pandemic I had been planning to open this shop, anywhere. I knew I wanted to have book club events, but I had been thinking of them as in-person discussions. Now, I’m seeing how exciting it is to be able to share plans and enthusiasm for this with people around the whole world. Launching this GoFundMe and Instagram, I realized that people all over are invested in this bookshop, even knowing they may never actually [visit in person]. Like, we have people in Rwanda donating and sharing. So I think I have another level of investment in accessibility with inclusion now, than I had previously considered.
K: It illustrates how much desire there is for the work you’re doing. In both personal and work life, what aspects of social media do you like and dislike?
A: I think about [this] a lot. I attribute a lot of this project’s success to utilizing these platforms. Someone would tell me they heard about it from the link in someone’s bio. I definitely see the power of social media now in a way I don’t think I had previously, because this time I was experiencing it first hand. In the past, I did some social media consulting for folks. It was really fun and easy, I didn’t need to learn anything because [laughs] I’m a millennial. It helped for stuff with Salt Eaters, because I approached it as if I was my own client. But, I also think I’m old school. I am more invested in getting to know people’s energies offline. I have gotten offers to promote certain things on my Instagram page. I am insecure about stepping into that influencer space. I don’t think I have the time or the energy. I am just so tired constantly.
[Both laugh]
It takes up a lot of time and energy. It’s a lot of work. I don’t think I have the energy to curate posts. I’m not sure I care enough.
“I [used to think] if you’ve never had experience in something, you don’t have any business being in that space. But I’ve learned to trust myself more.”
K: I’ve been on social media a lot less recently, and it’s jarring whenever I return to post something. Sometimes I feel this wave of revulsion…I don’t think it’s about the people, more how we communicate there, because of its design.
A: I think about that a lot these days. It’s hard to know how much to engage. For instance, right now there is a lot of emphasis on public mourning, maybe a pressure to post about someone who recently passed. Or, to make sure you’re up on the movements happening in response to injustice. It can feel really overwhelming. I’ve been trying to be gentle with myself, to just share when I feel called to. Although social media can be an extremely judgey place, I myself am only invested in being judged on the actual work that I do, which is working to get this space up. You can get really caught up in the virtual space and get caught up in the day to day, thinking what you’re doing isn’t as important. You have to really ground yourself and remember that space doesn’t actually reflect much of...anything.
K: You said a great thing recently: that you didn’t want to wait to ask for permission to create this bookshop. Do people default to asking for permission too often?
A: I got that perspective from going to Spelman and being around so many Black women going after whatever they wanted. I [used to think] if you’ve never had experience in something, you don’t have any business being in that space. But I’ve learned to trust myself more. Even if I haven’t done anything like this before. Which I haven't — but that’s the thing. I can learn. I can figure out how to do it. I have to trust my abilities, just believe that I’m actually capable. I was concerned before launching the GoFundMe. I thought, “Who am I to open a bookstore? I’ve never even worked in a bookstore [laughing]. What makes me qualified to do something like this? And who is gonna give me the stamp [of approval], saying I can or can’t?” [laughing] and it’s like, who would that even be? Who would tell me that I’m prepared enough? That doesn’t really exist. That is all in my mind.
K: Right, yeah!
A: These days, I have never felt more personally aligned in my pursuits…professionally, politically, personally...I think it comes down to trusting that you are enough, and that you are able. Those things have propelled me even when I feel unsure. I love that I’m learning. I’m not afraid to ask for help. I’m up at night reading, trying to figure out what are the right fixtures we need to get, how many books are on each shelf... All of these things are new and it’s exciting. It’s okay for me to admit to myself it is my first time and I will make mistakes. But I’m committed to this, it is one of the most important things I’ve ever done.
⤏ KATIE ALICE GREER (SHE/HER) IS A MUSICIAN, PRODUCER AND RECORD LABEL OWNER WHO RECENTLY RELOCATED TO LOS ANGELES FROM WASHINGTON, D.C. SHE LOVES ALL KINDS OF MUSIC, CATS, SOCIAL JUSTICE MOVEMENTS THAT SKEW TOWARDS SERVING THE MANY OVER THE FEW, MOVIES, AND THE LOS ANGELES PUBLIC ACCESS TV SHOW, LOST LA.