Two Boricuas, a Cup of Bustelo, and a Movement Called Boricua Talks

Some of the best things that have ever been built started the same exact way. Two women. Coffee. And a whole lot to say.

That's the origin story of Elizabeth Colon and Marisel Melendez, co-founders of Boricua Talks, a speaker series event rooted in Puerto Rican culture, storytelling, and the kind of sisterhood you don't manufacture. You grow it. Slowly. Over cafe.

I had the privilege of sitting down with them on a recent episode of Just Call Me Viv, and honestly? I walked away feeling something I didn't expect. Energized. Seen. And a little bit like I needed to call my best friends and tell them I love them. Also, maybe book a flight to Chicago.

Where It Started: La Mesa y El Cafecito

Elizabeth and Marisel will tell you their friendship is a little fuzzy at the edges. They're not entirely sure when they met. What they know for certain is that the moment they did, they clicked. Hard. In our community, you don't just invite anybody to sit down for cafecito. That's intimate. That's reserved for people who feel like home.

They were both contributors to the book series Today's Inspired Latina, and somewhere in that world of Latina storytelling, they found each other. Their conversations were unscripted, often ridiculous, and completely in sync. They'd finish each other's sentences. They'd think the same thing at the same time. And they'd laugh. A lot. That laughter wasn't a bonus feature. It was the foundation.

The Moment They Knew There Was a Gap

Chicago has a large Puerto Rican community. Or at least it did. Like many of our communities across the mainland, it's shrunk over time. Elizabeth and Marisel noticed something when they started showing up to events and looking around the room. The events were good. The women were brilliant. But where were the Boricuas?

So when an executive assistant said, simply, why don't you just start something, they did. And that's where Boricua Talks was born.

The First Event: Seven Women. Seven Stories. Seven Minutes.

The National Museum of Puerto Rican Arts and Culture in Chicago hosted them. They had seven speakers. Seven stories. Seven minutes each. And they sold out. There was a waiting list.

Elizabeth told me that to this day, she and Marisel cannot describe in a single word what they felt in that room. Magical keeps coming up, but even that doesn't quite hold it. People cried together, laughed together, danced together. Women who walked in as strangers walked out as community.

They're now in their fourth year. And they're already 20% sold out.

What Boricua Talks Is Really Offering

Here's the question I needed to ask them, because I live it too. What about the Boricua woman who grew up here and doesn't speak Spanish fluently? The one who feels like she's not Puerto Rican enough when she's on the island, and too Puerto Rican when she's on the mainland? What does Boricua Talks offer her?

Elizabeth's answer was quiet and clear. We create a space where she can understand and love her culture without shame. They've done private docent tours at the museum where many of the attendees had never been inside. Women joined on the spot. Some of them had been walking through the diaspora feeling disconnected, and they walked into that museum and felt it. Amor. Cultura. Home.

Marisel was born in Puerto Rico and has lived in the States since she was one year old. She told me about watching a photographer catch her in the middle of an ugly cry at their second event. Flood of tears. And she said, I know I'm doing something right when my 33-year-old daughter says she wants to be surrounded by me and my friends. That's the thing about cultural work done with intention. It ripples.

On Friendship and Building Something Real

I asked them if this project changed their friendship. Elizabeth was honest. She said it's not the project that changes a friendship. It's life. Life gets in the way. Distance happens. Seasons shift. But they always find their way back. And when they do, they're like, we have to do the show, we have to keep going.

Marisel added, with characteristic Marisel energy: we have more selfies together than any family member in my phone. Between Elizabeth and Chewbacca, her dog. I believe it.

Their friendship is the yin and the yang, as they tried to say it three times before landing on the phrase. One holds the list. One brings the energy. One checks the boxes. One will randomly bring up bad halitosis in the middle of a recording because nobody talks about it. Together they are something neither one of them is alone. And that, I think, is the whole point.

On Entrepreneurship: Get Out of Your Own Way

Both Elizabeth and Marisel are business owners with serious track records. Elizabeth started her language and cultural solutions company, Metaphrasis, with $500 at her kitchen table 18 years ago. During COVID, she lost the business overnight. And then she rebuilt it. On her own. And still made over a million dollars that year.

She said something that I've been sitting with since we spoke. It's not going to come easy. People start something and stop when it gets hard because they think it's supposed to feel easy. It isn't. The work, the planning, the relationships. That's the job.

Marisel's family has run Ponce, a Puerto Rican restaurant, for 28 years. She said, find your tribe. Doing it alone is lonely. And giving up is not an option. Si se puede, but you have to go through it, not around it.

And when Elizabeth said, ask for help. I was never afraid to say I don't know. That changed everything for me. Because how many of us hold it in? Keep the facade of having it together because we don't want to look like we're struggling? She built a multi-million dollar company and she'll still walk into a room and say, can you help me understand this? Fuerza without ego. That's the move.

The Part Where I Got Emotional (And I'm Not Hiding It)

When I was nine years old, growing up in the campo in Puerto Rico, I used to make bracelets out of electrical wire scraps that workers left on the side of the road. I sold them during recess for five cents. My goal was to buy Doritos and a refresco. I didn't want to survive on my peseta anymore. I wanted more.

Listening to Elizabeth and Marisel, I kept thinking about that little girl on the mountain. The one who saw a problem, got creative, found a market, and made something out of nothing.

That's what these women did. They looked at their community, saw a gap, and instead of waiting for someone else to fill it, they filled it themselves. With laughter. With culture. With flores de maga pins they glued together by hand with burnt fingers so the scholarship fund would have more money.

They are the people I want to be in community with.

A Message to the Woman Who's Wondering

If you're sitting on an idea. If you have a friend and a lot of coffee and something to say. If you're a Boricua woman living out here in the diaspora wondering if there's space for you. There is.

You don't have to be the most polished. You don't have to have it all figured out. You need the grit to go through it when it gets hard, and at least one person in your corner who will not let you quit.

Find your tribe. Face the fear. Do the thing. And if you can get to Chicago in June, buy a ticket to Boricua Talks. I already told them I'm coming. Until next time, cuídense mucho.

Viv

Elizabeth Colon and Marisel Melendez are the co-founders of Boricua Talks, a speaker series celebrating Puerto Rican women and their stories. Follow them on Instagram and get your tickets before they sell out. Because they will.

Boricua Talks : https://boricuatalks.com/

Boricua Talks on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/boricuatalks/