Once upon a time, there was a Little Red Hen named Xiomara.  Now, Xiomara lived in this Nice and Youthful City, in a barn just north the City’s major downtown area.  The Barn Xiomara lived in was a beautiful place, but some of the parts of the Barn needed improvement.  Xiomara enjoyed working on the Barn, knowing that the Barn was hers, and would one day be her children’s home.

One day,  a mysterious fire burned the south and west parts of The Barn.  This devastated Xiomara, but she was a fighter (her name means “ready for battle”), and hoped that her friends in the City would help.  As Xiomara looked through the damage of the Barn, she found these seeds for Hops, and hoped the branding, cultivation, and marketing of her Hops would help her rebuild the Barn.  She also needed the investment of the City to help her get the materials she needed to restore her children’s home.  Unfortunately, the Nice and Youthful City wasn’t doing much better than Xiomara.  The Mayor asked the President of the Unified Sectors, the country in which the all lived, for some support for the City and especially for Xiomara.

“Would you help me rebuild the Barn?” Xiomara asked the President.

“Not I!” exclaimed the President. “You made this mess, you clean it up.”

Unfortunately, the President turned his back on the City and Xiomara.  Whatever resources the City had left, the Mayor decided they would be better used in the other parts of the City, but especially downtown.

“Would you help me rebuild the Barn?”  Xiomara pleaded with the Mayor.

“Not I!” said the Mayor.  Xiomara couldn’t help feeling hopeless.

As Xiomara built her Barn, little by little and beam by beam, many wealthy outsiders scoffed. “Look at the disaster!  The Barn is burning, and her children are chickens without heads! Senseless and uneducated, there’s so much violence between them!  One group fights and squabbles with the others, like one gaggle of geese against another.  There will never be hope for this Barn,” the outsiders declared, their judgment stung Xiomara.

“Who will help educate my children?  Who will give them jobs and skills?  Who will help stop the violence?  Who will help me rebuild the Barn?” Xiomara questioned her onlookers.

“Not I!”  Exclaimed each outsiders.  Among them were those skilled in developing land, those skilled in creating HUGE corporations, and those from other parts of the City and Country.

Xiomara’s children painted the Barn in vivid and bright colors. Xiomara decided to focus on her Hops.  She figured, she could grow and sell the Hops, and others could enjoy what could be made through them.  Soon, her Hops became the new and Hip thing to own.  Everyone wanted to own her Hip Hops, brewing an interesting subculture among the younger animals in her Barn as well as the City.  She had dance parties in her Barn, giving an outlet to her children while spreading her Hops and using the money to reinvest in the revitalization of her Barn and children.  Some judged Xiomara intently, while others began to resell her Hops and other ideas she and her kids had used to rebuild the Barn.

“Look at this mess! There’s paint everywhere, these parties are so loud, they must not care about their community here.  How could anyone live like this!” The outsiders continued to spew their negative comments, oblivious to the conditions Xiomara and her children lived with everyday.  While they were rich in negative stereotypes of the Barn (a place they never went to) they were poor in solutions and a willingness to give the resources Xiomara continued to plead for.

“Would you help create art programs for my children?  Would you offer offer my children healthy food options and treat them when their sick?  Would you promote the positive aspects of my beloved Barn?”

“Not I!” Exclaimed each outsider, their familiar reply.

Xiomara’s Hops continued to grow in popularity, but unfortunately most of the income generated by the Hops went to outsiders who seemed uninterested in reinvesting in the Barn.  Nevertheless, Xiomara was given credit for developing the Hops – an empty consolation.  Xiomara was able to rebuild the Barn, and slowly but surely she created her own programs to help her children, some good and some needing more time to develop.  Nevertheless, the Barn looked better than ever.  While some outsiders continued to hold the Barn in contempt others began to devise plans that would allow them to profit off of Xiomara’s work.

“Who would help enjoy this beautiful Barn with me, and help me build, around and within it, opportunities for my children?”  Xiomara asked, as she gazed upon the magnificent Barn.

“I will!”  said each of the land developers, as they began to buy land within the Barn to resell to outsiders.

“I will!”  said each of the HUGE corporations, as they began to create plans for paradises catering to their wealthy patrons within the walls of the Barn.

“I will!”  said each of the outsiders as they tried to transplant themselves into the spaces the land developers were creating.

“All by myself, I didn’t abandon my children but stayed to work towards a better future for them and the Barn.  I built the beams, I stopped the rampant violence, I painted the walls,  I cultivated the Hops, I created the culture, I promoted positive initiatives, I educated my children, I gave them jobs, I encouraged them, I created programs and outlets for them to explore and reimagine a different world!  You won’t come in here and reclaim what’s rightfully ours.  You won’t discover our culture.  You won’t rebrand the community we’ve been working hard to build. You won’t erase us from the Barn.  All by ourselves, we’re gonna enjoy the future of this Barn.  All by ourselves, we’re gonna fight to have our voices heard.  All by ourselves, we’re gonna enjoy the fruit of our labor.”