Although María Herrón is a native New Yorker, she understands what it feels like not to belong in this tough city. The daughter of a Cuban mother who arrived to the United States in 1958, Herrón grew up in a “relatively white neighborhood” just north of the Bronx.
“I got into a lot of trouble as a kid just for saying coño—and I didn’t understand why,” Herrón, the founder of Mil Mundos, a bilingual bookstore in Bushwick, recalls. “My parents split when I was born—my father was white and he didn’t want any Spanish in the house. I knew about my Cuban heritage because my mom made chicharrón and tostones and listened to Caribbean music, but my connection to it always felt fractured,” she adds.
As an adult, Herrón lived in multiple places in New York until she found Bushwick, a Latine and Hispanic neighborhood in Brooklyn. But despite more than 42 percent of Bushwick residents identifying as part of the Latin American and Hispanic communities, Herrón says she “didn’t find any place where she could feel Latina.”
“Everything that’s opening up now here is for an English-speaking audience. It’s for, you know, a perceived market,” Herrón explains. Her observation speaks to the effects of gentrification. Like many other neighborhoods in New York, Bushwick is becoming increasingly white, with high-income individuals moving into areas historically inhabited by immigrant or marginalized communities. This shift drives up real estate prices, making housing and renting spaces unaffordable for the communities that originally lived there.
According to New York University’s Furman Center, the racial and ethnic composition of historically Latine and Hispanic neighborhoods in New York has shifted dramatically. In the 2000s, nearly 68 percent of Bushwick residents identified as Hispanic. Today, that figure has dropped to just 42.6 percent. Additionally, Bushwick is becoming wealthier: the household income group with the largest share of households has shifted from less than $20,000 in 2000 to between $100,001 and $250,000 in 2022. Despite these demographical shifts, Bushwick is still the most Hispanic neighborhood in Brooklyn.
Building Community Through A Shared Identity
In 2019, Mil Mundos opened its doors. Initially, it operated as a traditional for-profit business, but within six weeks, the bookstore ran out of money, leaving Herrón doubting her project. She had to sit down with the people who had worked with her during the opening and deliver some difficult news: “Guys, I’ll have to lay you off in a week because there’s no money—and I’m now $42,000 in debt.” However, their response surprised her: “We think we should do this volunteer-run.”
While Herrón identifies as a radical leftist, she acknowledged her contradictions. She felt conflicted about the left’s glorification of Cuba and was also uneasy about turning her bookstore into a volunteer-run organization. Yet, for Herrón and the members of Mil Mundos, it’s clear that not everything is meant to be for profit. “Many bookstores, at least in this city, are volunteer-run. The notion of moonlighting—working an extra job—at a bookstore isn’t uncommon. At Mil Mundos, people are part of it because they love being around books, reading, and wanting access. We know equity goes beyond capital,” she explains.
Today, Mil Mundos operates as an activist and cooperative bookstore, which means every member of the bookshop supports shared causes and has the same decision-making power. It offers access to a curated collection of books on politics, history, literature, and poetry from Latine, Black, and Indigenous perspectives. Most importantly, it seeks to foster a collective sense of identity.
The sense of shared Latine identity was also one of the reasons that drew Bethania Viana Sachelaridi, one of the 25 members of the Mil Mundos co op, to the bookstore in the first place. Daughter of a Paraguayan couple, Bethania moved from New Jersey to Bushwick in 2018, and after one year of living in the neighborhood, she found Mil Mundos on Instagram.
“I applied to become part of the collective, I met with Herrón and just by talking to her I began seeing my neighborhood through a different perspective,” Bethania recalls during our chat in the bookshop, “I began wondering, ‘Why was I able to find a place to live in this neighborhood and how does that connect to a larger conversation about how this particular place has shifted over time?’ Mil Mundos was a way for me to connect with Bushwick’s community.”
For Herrón, the idea of Latinidad thrives amid the challenges of American exceptionalism, whether it’s about the struggle to build something of your own or proving your right to exist in less-than-welcoming spaces. “There’s nothing like being from Latin America—we are all Latin Americans or Caribbeans, but we’re also from different countries. However, we share a similar sense of community,” Herrón explains. Bethania agrees—although all Latin Americans in New York might not have the same level of language literacy, or even speak the same Spanish, “there’s some kind of horizontal aspect of Latin culture where we all try to help each other out.”
In addition to books and fanzines, and to support the community they’re part of, Mil Mundos has a mutual aid and nonprofit branch that began during the pandemic. Mil Mundos en Común provides access to essential goods and digital connectivity to the community, while also collaborating with other mutual aid organizations in the neighborhood, like Bushwick Ayuda Mutua.
Most recently, Herrón and the collective have responded to a specific request from neighbors: providing English-speaking classes. “During COVID, a woman came to the bookstore, very frustrated. She told me she was a psychiatrist from the Dominican Republic, but here, her degree meant nothing. She couldn’t even use the subway because she didn’t know how to ask for help. She was asking brilliant, reasonable questions, but it was extremely frustrating for her because she couldn’t communicate her needs in English,” María recalls.
Therefore, the Mil Mundos crew decided to launch an English-speaking course. It took time, but with support from the Brooklyn Public Library, who brought to Herrón’s radar an English for Everyone course book by U.S. publisher DK, and some curriculum adaptations, Mil Mundos’s classes are set to begin in late January 2025. “You can live in New York all your life without speaking a word of English—but most people who came to Mil Mundos asking for help just wanted a better job or ways to advocate for themselves in this extremely harsh city,” Herrón adds.
Indie Bookstores With A Mission
Whether it’s literature, essential goods, connectivity, or overcoming language barriers, Mil Mundos is part of a broader movement: independent bookstores with a social purpose.
From curating a thoughtful book collection to providing a workspace for community members—like Sonia Castrejón, a tailor from Michoacán, Mexico, who has her sewing studio at Mil Mundos—or receiving and distributing essential goods donations, indie bookstores have increasingly become a vital part of New York’s communities, particularly those built by immigrants and members of the LGBTQ+ community.
“Reading is knowledge, and knowledge is empowering—so when you’ve experienced that for yourself and see people in need, you want to empower them as well,” says Herrón.
Regarding book curation, local bookstores don’t select titles randomly or rely on algorithms or sales trends. Instead, booksellers and owners follow specific criteria. Like many other independent and bilingual bookstores, Mil Mundos prioritizes works by Latine, Black, and Indigenous authors—focusing on voices from marginalized communities.
"Books also serve as a way to explore other worlds and learn concepts that help us name feelings and emotions—also, they are a great way of allowing us to connect with other people who share similar interests or fighting for the same causes. In summary, books help shape a shared identity, questioning the reality we’re part of—and that might be seen by some as a threat, “particularly people in power,” Herrón states.
“Books are not loaded weapons, but they are powerful. Books are banned and burned—some people consider them a threat. And they wouldn’t be a threat if they weren’t powerful,” Herrón concludes.
Victoria Mortimer is an audience engagement journalist and freelance reporter covering social politics, culture, and immigration in New York. Previously, she worked for LA NACION (Argentina) and the Financial Times.
