I’m not sure when National Days and Weeks became a whole thing—National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day (August 4), National Take a Selfie Day (June 21)… they all have their moment.
But when it comes to small businesses, we don’t just get one.
We get at least four reminders to pause, support, and remember.
And maybe you’ve asked yourself:
Why do we need so many?
The answer?
Because we need the reminder.
We need the lists—so people can find the makers, growers, healers, and artists who don’t have ad budgets or free two-day shipping.
We need the funding—so they’re not just seen but sustained.
We need the weeks and months—because we’ve been programmed to center convenience over connection, and it takes time (and repetition) to break a habit.
This week is National Small Business Week, led by the SBA. And while the intention is good, the truth is—microbusinesses often get left out of the funding conversation.
Solo entrepreneurs. Side hustlers. Makers working at the kitchen table after their kids go to sleep.
They’re building real businesses with real impact—and yet they’re too often overlooked by the same systems meant to support them.
And let’s be honest: many of these microbusinesses were born out of necessity, not just passion.
If jobs paid a living wage, we wouldn’t have so many people driving rideshares, delivering food, launching side hustles, or turning their creativity into commerce just to make ends meet.
This entire economy—this grind-it-out hustle culture—was built because people couldn’t survive on what they were being paid.
So no, not every microbusiness will last three years.
And unfortunately, not every microbusiness will survive its first three years.
Still, those microbusiness owners are people—navigating their way through this system.
People building something out of love, necessity, frustration, or hope.
People who are trying to create a little freedom, a little stability, a little dignity.
They still deserve a shot.
And micro-grants help fill a need when larger funding bodies look the other way.
We’re watching behaviors change in real time:
- People are buying directly from creators instead of clicking through an algorithm.
- They’re waiting longer for things made with intention.
- They’re asking, Do I really need this overnight—or do I need it to come from someone I trust?
And corporations are feeling it. One major retailer recently slashed its CEO’s pay after stock prices dropped and consumer trust declined. In response? They brought in familiar figures—Black male representatives to help “reset” public opinion.
But the movement they’re trying to reach? It started with Black women.
Women who pulled back their dollars and found something surprising:
Peace.
Clarity.
And a budget that actually made sense when impulse buys were no longer in the cart.
They’re not just boycotting—they’re choosing. Choosing slower. Smaller. Aligned.
And at This Woman Knows, we’re not just observing this shift—we’re fueling it.
That’s why we launched the TWK Grant: to support women building something meaningful—whether that’s a business, a body of work, or a new beginning.
It’s not a reward for telling the saddest story.
It’s a vote of confidence.
A reallocation of resources.
A simple but radical act: I see you. I believe in your vision. And you are worthy of support.
Because if we want to rebuild strong, we have to fund local. Fund direct. Fund now.
So no, it’s not “too many observances.”
It’s a reclamation.
A remembering.
A restructuring.
And we’re not just shopping small—we’re building strong.
Together.
Since the system is unwilling to change… we are.
