The Moment Everything Changed: Finding Ethical Tea
I remember when I first started sourcing tea. I thought certifications were the gold standard—the marker of quality, ethics, and care. Organic. Fair Trade. Direct Trade. Ethical tea. Those labels felt like a safe shortcut, a guarantee that I was doing the right thing.
Until I realized many of the small farmers I admired—the ones with rich family histories, incredible craft, and a love for the land—couldn’t afford those certifications. That realization shook me.
What if I was doing more harm than good by chasing labels instead of building real relationships?
I was this close to hitting the "buy now" button on my first bulk tea order. The distributor looked perfect on paper: organic and fair trade tea offerings, a wide selection of unique blends, solar-powered facilities, even a preserved wetland onsite. It was the kind of glossy, certified package that felt safe. But as my finger hovered over the button, I paused.
Something wasn’t sitting right.
I had this nagging feeling in my gut that I should just... wait. So I did.
The next day, while I snuggled my sleeping baby on one of those sleep-deprived, nap-trapped, postpartum days, I stumbled across this article on decolonizing tea. I remember feeling cracked open. The more I read, the more it all started to unravel—my assumptions, my plans, my understanding of what it meant to source tea ethically.
That article was the missing piece. This was why I hadn’t clicked “buy now.”
I realized that what I was building wasn’t just a tea company. It was an opportunity for connection—a deep, honest connection that I had been craving in my own life. In those quiet, vulnerable moments of early motherhood, I wasn’t just looking for comfort in a cup. I was looking for meaning.
And the truth was, I couldn’t find that meaning in the polished distributor I had been so excited about. They couldn’t tell me who grew the tea, how it was harvested, what a day in the life of a tea plucker looked like. Were they paid fairly? Did they have benefits? Did they get to rest?
And what were “natural flavors” anyway?
I dropped everything and started researching. Independent tea farms. Small growers. Sustainable tea farming practices. Biodiversity friendly tea farms. The stories behind the leaves. I wanted to know everything.
And what I found felt like a revelation.
A thriving world of small-scale tea farmers—generational growers, guardians of culture, stewards of the land—offering direct trade to folks like me. People who cared not just about tea, but about the people behind the tea. Conversations flowed: honest, casual, full of learning and shared passion.
I’m still working with many of those growers today.
We’ve built relationships, partnerships, friendships. We’ve celebrated harvests, shared family stories, and navigated challenges together.
At the heart of it all, we’re united by a common calling:
- To make and share tea that honors everyone in the process.
- To reject exploitation—of tea farmers, tea pluckers, tea-growing communities, children, women, the elderly.
- To honor culture, tradition, and the wisdom passed down through generations.
- To tell the whole story of tea, not just the shiny parts.
Because every tea tells the story of the hands, the hearts, and the histories of the people who grew it.
And that’s what I want you to taste when you sip with us.
So the next time you make a cup of tea, pause for a moment.
Ask yourself: Who grew these leaves? What hands tended this plant? What stories are steeped in this cup?
At Route 636 Tea Co., we believe that quiet moments—like settling into your favorite seat for a cup of tea before the rest of the house wakes up—can change the world. Every sip connects you to the people and places behind it, reminding us that we’re all part of a bigger story.
Thank you for being part of this story with us. Let’s keep building a tea industry that’s rooted in care, respect, and connection.
Cheers,
Lindsey