Thanksgiving hits different when you run a small, mission-driven business in a country that feels increasingly hostile to… well, almost everyone we care about. This year, gratitude isn’t a mood—it’s a practice, a responsibility, and honestly, sometimes a little bit of resistance.
And before anything else:
We name and honor that this holiday sits on stolen land.
There’s no celebration without acknowledging Indigenous people—past, present, and future—who continue to fight for sovereignty, safety, and visibility. We give thanks to the Native communities whose traditions, stewardship, and storytelling have shaped this land long before any of us arrived. We commit to learning, unlearning, listening, and materially supporting Native-led organizations—not just on Thanksgiving, but every damn day.
Now, with that truth centered…
Here’s what we’re genuinely thankful for:
The community that built us—and keeps showing up.
Every pop-up, every farmers market, every “OMG I love this tea” moment in a parking lot at 7 AM? That’s community care.
This year, Chicago showed up for us again and again. When politics got uglier, when policies put marginalized folks at risk, when the news cycle felt like a spiral, y’all kept choosing kindness, connection, and local.
You didn’t just buy tea. You fueled a queer, Black-owned, woman-owned dream built on accessibility, joy, and people-first values. And we don’t take that lightly—not for a second.
Our farmers’ market family.
Farmers markets are chaotic little microcosms of joy, grit, and community. And we are so, so thankful for ours.
We’re grateful for:
- Market managers who organize, mediate, cheerlead, and somehow stay sane while juggling 40 vendors and a line of customers asking where the bathroom is.
- Fellow vendors who trade snacks, watch each other’s booths, share sunblock, gossip, and survival tips like it’s a sacred ritual.
- Loyal customers who show up every week—rain, cold, oppressive heat, Chicago wind that could pick up a toddler and carry them downtown—and still walk up with a smile.
The farmers market community is real. It’s messy, supportive, hilarious, and deeply human. We wouldn’t be Moody Teas without it.
Here’s Elsa (our fearless market manager) and the Finding Justice Farm crew showing up as literal vegetables for Halloween—and yes, even the dog dressed up. This is the kind of joyful, chaotic, wholesome energy we’re thankful for every single week.
Our growing online community (Threads, we see you).
This year, something magical happened online.
We finally found our people.
To everyone who’s been vibing with Moody Teas on Threads, amplifying our posts, and cheering us on: thank you. You’ve helped us build a digital home that feels warm, funny, affirming, and real.
And we will never forget the moment Threads gave us over 100 orders on Juneteenth.
A Black-owned tea company hitting that milestone on that day?
That was sacred.
That was community in action.
That was y’all showing up with intention.
We’re still emotional about it.
Our shared kitchen community.
Renting shared kitchen space means you’re basically living in a sitcom.
We’re grateful for:
- Entrepreneurs pulling long nights roasting, baking, chopping, blending.
- Folks we don’t even share language with, but still communicate through nods, smiles, and “you need this?” gestures.
- The late-night solidarity of “we’re all tired but we’re doing this.”
- The weird little friendships that only happen when you’re elbow-deep in production at 1 AM.
Shared kitchens teach you humility, generosity, and that everyone has a dream they’re trying to keep alive. That kind of space is sacred. And we’re thankful to be part of it.
The farmers, growers, and workers behind every leaf and blend.
Moody Teas is built on global relationships—many of them Indigenous, many of them generational, all of them rooted in care for land and people.
We’re grateful for the growers preserving traditional craft.
For tea regions fighting climate change with no safety net.
For the hands that harvest, roll, dry, and protect the leaves we love.
We honor the communities whose work makes our work possible.
The joy we get to create, even in heavy times.
This year wasn’t easy—politically, economically, or emotionally.
Running a small business feels like being in a long-term situationship with capitalism: it’s messy, it’s draining, and yet somehow we wake up and choose it again.
But the joy we create?
The mood-boosting blends, the laughter at markets, the shared taste tests, the customers who come back with stories?
That joy is real. And we’re thankful for every drop of it.
The mutual aid built into community.
These next three years are going to require collective effort, collective protection, and collective joy. We’re already seeing the power of neighbors helping neighbors, queer folks holding each other through uncertainty, small businesses uplifting each other when things get hard.
During the federal pause on SNAP benefits caused by the government shutdown, the Lincoln Park Farmers Market organized a food drive with support from the local alderman and several state senators. The community packed an entire truck with donations… and then filled volunteers’ personal cars because there was no room left.
This is what real community care looks like.
We’re grateful to be part of that web.
To share space, resources, opportunities, and warmth.
To hold one another through the mess and celebrate together through the magic.
The vision we’re building toward.
A Chicago where good tea is accessible everywhere, not just in wealthy neighborhoods.
A small business ecosystem that actually thrives.
A future where queer and BIPOC founders aren’t just surviving—they’re celebrated.
A world where community care isn’t radical, it’s normal.
We’re thankful for the people dreaming that future with us.
Ways to Honor Indigenous People Today (and Always)
Thanksgiving can’t just be about gratitude—it has to be about accountability.
Here are some real, tangible ways to honor Indigenous communities today:
🌾 1. Learn whose land you’re on.
Use resources like Native Land Digital to understand the original stewards of where you live and work.
💸 2. Donate to Indigenous-led organizations.
Support groups focused on land rights, mutual aid, cultural preservation, or environmental justice.
🛍️ 3. Shop Indigenous makers.
Buy from Native artists, small businesses, and community-owned brands. Here’s a great selection local to us in Chicago, but research native artists in your area to shop local!
📚 4. Honor Indigenous stories and knowledge.
Read Indigenous authors. Follow creators. Share their work.
Teach yourself what schools tried to hide. This podcast (by NPR!) is a great place to start!
🌱 5. Reject the sanitized, colonial narrative of Thanksgiving.
Talk openly with your community. Tell the truth.
Let today be a day of remembrance and connection—not erasure.
So today, we’re giving thanks with full hearts and open eyes.
Thankful for Indigenous communities and the land we stand on.
Thankful for our market family, our online family, and our production family.
Thankful for our customers, collaborators, farmers, and supporters.
Thankful for every person who chose Moody Teas this year.
Thankful for the community that keeps us going.
And thankful for each other—for the resilience, the joy, the stubborn hope we carry into another year.
From our little queer tea company to your table: we’re grateful. For all of it. For all of you.
🍵❤️
