I’ve been covering Boston’s business landscape for over fifteen years, and rarely have I seen the kind of quiet anxiety now permeating Jamaica Plain’s vibrant Latino business community. Walking down Centre Street yesterday afternoon, the typical bustle of weekend shoppers seemed subdued, conversations hushed, as news of President Trump’s proposed 25% tariff on Mexican imports continues to send shockwaves through immigrant-owned businesses.
“We’re already operating on razor-thin margins,” explains Maria Gonzalez, who has owned Adelante Market for twelve years. Her small grocery specializes in authentic Mexican products—from canned chilies to specialty cheeses—that larger chains don’t carry. “If these tariffs happen, I’ll have to raise prices or cut inventory. Either way, I lose customers.”
According to data from the Boston Planning & Development Agency, Latino-owned businesses contribute approximately $4.2 billion annually to the city’s economy and employ over 18,000 people. But these impressive figures mask the vulnerability many smaller operations now face.
The Federal Reserve Bank of Boston’s latest regional economic report indicates that specialty food retailers operating in neighborhoods like Jamaica Plain typically maintain profit margins between 2-5%—leaving little room to absorb significant cost increases. When margins are this tight, even modest price hikes can prove devastating.
For restaurateurs like Carlos Reyes, owner of El Taco Azteca, the calculations are particularly grim. “About 40% of my ingredients come directly from Mexico,” he tells me while reviewing invoices in his small office. “Avocados, certain chilies, even some of our cooking equipment. We’re talking thousands of dollars in additional costs monthly.”
The Massachusetts Restaurant Association estimates that Boston’s 187 Mexican restaurants could see food costs rise by 12-18% if the full tariff takes effect, potentially forcing menu price increases that exceed what the market can bear.
Beyond restaurants and groceries, other sectors face their own challenges. At Hermanos Electronics on Washington Street, owner Roberto Mendes shows me shelves of televisions, sound systems, and home appliances—many assembled in Mexico.
“People don’t realize how integrated our supply chains are,” Mendes explains. “These Sony TVs? Final assembly in Tijuana. These Whirlpool appliances? Components from Monterrey. I can’t simply switch suppliers overnight.”
The Consumer Technology Association reports that electronics retailers nationwide could face up to $3.9 billion in additional costs annually from Mexican tariffs, with smaller independent shops bearing disproportionate impacts due to their limited negotiating power with distributors.
What troubles many business owners most isn’t just the immediate economic impact but the uncertainty. “How do I plan inventory orders? How do I price my menu for next month? Should I delay hiring that new cashier?” asks Elena Vasquez of Elena’s Taqueria. “Every business decision now comes with this shadow hanging over it.”
Community leaders express concern beyond just business impacts. Father Roberto Mendoza of St. Thomas Aquinas Parish notes that many business owners send remittances to family members in Mexico. “These tariffs create a double burden—higher costs here and potentially less support for relatives there.”
Data from the World Bank shows that remittances to Mexico from Massachusetts residents totaled approximately $173 million last year, supporting an estimated 12,000 households.
The fear extends beyond just Mexican imports. Rafael Torres, who imports crafts and textiles from Guatemala for his Centre Street gift shop, worries about what economists call “tariff contagion”—the potential for similar policies affecting other Latin American countries.
“My customers don’t distinguish between Mexican and Guatemalan products. They just see prices going up on ‘Latino goods,'” Torres explains. “And psychologically, that affects spending across my entire inventory.”
Harvard Business School Professor Carmen Rodriguez, who studies immigrant entrepreneurship, sees broader implications. “These businesses represent critical economic anchors in their communities. When they struggle, it affects not just owners and employees but neighborhood stability and cultural identity.”
A recent survey by the Massachusetts Small Business Association found that 62% of Latino business owners in Boston report already making contingency plans, including potential staffing cuts, should the tariffs take effect.
Not everyone sees doom on the horizon, however. Some larger distributors believe the market will adjust. “Supply chains are adaptable,” notes Michael Scanlon of Northeast Food Distributors. “We’re already looking at alternative sourcing from California, Florida, and even vertical farming operations in Massachusetts.”
Yet for small business owners like Gonzalez, such pivots require capital and connections they lack. “The big players will be fine,” she sighs. “It’s places like mine that might disappear.”
As I leave Jamaica Plain as dusk settles, I pass families enjoying dinner at local restaurants, seemingly unaware of the economic calculations happening in back offices and storage rooms. For now, business continues, but beneath the surface, an entire community holds its breath, waiting to see if their American dream will weather yet another storm.
