Before there was tea, there was language.

In high school, I fell in love with the idea that words are more than communication: they are home. The same tongue we hear from our mothers, our fathers, our friends, our lovers. Language is how we find each other across distance, across differences, across everything that tries to keep us apart. I wanted to become a comfort for as many of those homes as I could. I wanted to become a polyglot.

It was through studying Mandarin Chinese that I first understood how deeply culture lives inside speech. And it was that pursuit of language, of community, and connection that led me to a tea shop on an ordinary morning seven years ago.

There was a language exchange event I wanted to attend. A place to practice and find people who understand why learning someone else's language is one of the most generous things a person can do. My dad offered to take me, excited to see me but my studying to practice.

However, the time on the flyer was wrong, and the front door of the shop had a lock that never quite locked.

My dad and I walked in expecting folding chairs and conversation. Instead, we were met with a blaring alarm system and the announcement that the authorities were on their way.

I want to be honest about what that moment felt like. My dad and I are Black. At this time, the Black Lives Matter Movement was at its peak. I was not scared because I was afraid of getting in trouble. 

I was scared because I believed I had put my father in danger. 

I was scared that a simple misunderstanding, a wrong time on a flyer and a broken lock, could cost us something we couldn't get back. We silently returned to the car and waited. Three police cars. Five officers. The weight of a world that doesn't always extend grace to people who look like us sitting heavy in that small, quiet space between us.

The tea shop owner arrived, and finally, my dad, steady as he has always been, coaxed me out of the car. We walked over together. I shakily held out the flyer as an explanation for the commotion.

The shop owner laughed. Warmly, genuinely laughed. Though he didn’t laugh at us. It was at the absurdity of the situation. Within seconds, he dismissed the officers, looked at my dad and me, and invited us inside.

He made us a cup of oolong.

It was the first cup of oolong I had ever tasted. It was the first time I had ever held a cup of loose leaf tea. And in that moment, after everything that had just happened, this man saw past our skin and offered us the oldest form of hospitality there is: he made us something warm and sat with us.

I have never forgotten it.

That cup of tea did not just calm my nerves that morning. It opened a door I have been walking through ever since. I began to seriously learn about tea. About the cultures that built entire civilizations around it. About the languages that changed because of it, the ceremonies that were shaped by it, the communities that have gathered over it for centuries. I learned that tea is not a trend or an aesthetic. It is one of the oldest threads connecting human beings to each other across time, geography, and difference.

I am conversational in Mandarin Chinese today in part because of that morning.

I own a tea business today because of that morning.

And I want to be clear about something: I did not create tea. I am not its authority. I am a Black woman from America who fell in love with something ancient and profound, and I have spent years trying to honor it honestly. I want to honor the cultures it comes from, the histories it carries, and the people who have stewarded it long before I ever took my first sip.

I want to honor the kindness that the tea shop owner offered my dad and I when it truly felt impossible.

Inlustria Tea & Blends exists because I believe tea deserves to be experienced, not gatekept. I believe curiosity is an act of love and respect. I believe that a stranger offering you something warm in a frightening moment is one of the most human things that can happen, and that feeling — being seen and welcomed and offered comfort — is what I am trying to put in every single blend I make. Inlustria is more than just a brand. It’s my way of passing on what tea has given me: a sense of wonder, a desire for connection, and an art form I’ll always be learning. Every cup is an invitation to pause, breathe, and be inspired.

The planets are my creative language. The tea is my offering.

I hope it finds you the way that first cup of oolong found me.