Walk down Devon Avenue on Chicago’s North Side and the storefronts tell an economic story that rarely makes it into discussions about regional competitiveness.
There are restaurants and grocers, certainly, but also accountants, jewelers, travel agencies, attorneys, physicians, insurance brokers, importers and wholesalers. Similar commercial ecosystems appear in Chinatown, Pilsen and Little Village, and then reassemble in different forms across suburban corridors from Skokie to Schaumburg and Naperville.
Chicago tends to describe such places culturally. They are destinations for food, festivals and neighborhood identity. Economically, however, they are something more consequential: decentralized business infrastructure built largely through immigration, family capital and relationships accumulated over generations.
That infrastructure deserves more attention at a moment when Chicago is thinking seriously about the future of its labor force.
The Chicago metropolitan labor force remains close to five million people, according to World Business Chicago. The organization says recent labor-force growth was supported partly by rising immigration, while changes in federal immigration policy have begun slowing that trajectory. Foreign-born workers account for roughly one-quarter of jobs in the metropolitan area.
Those workers aren’t simply supplying labor. Some are creating the businesses that employ it.
“Chicago has spent decades thinking about immigration as a social issue and corporate recruitment as an economic issue, when in reality immigrant entrepreneurship sits squarely at the intersection of both,” Gaurav Mohindra says. “A family that opens one grocery store, construction company or accounting practice may not make an economic-development announcement, but multiply that activity across thousands of families and you have an economic institution.”
That institution is hiding in plain sight.
Consider what happens around a successful immigrant-owned restaurant. The restaurant may buy from a specialty food distributor, hire an accountant familiar with its owners’ language and tax circumstances, use a neighborhood attorney, employ a local contractor for renovations and obtain insurance through another small business.
The wholesaler serving that restaurant may eventually supply dozens of establishments. A contractor may graduate from residential remodeling to commercial projects. A small manufacturer may begin producing packaged foods for regional supermarkets. Children who once worked the cash register after school may become the family’s informal technology department before eventually pursuing careers of their own.
The result is not merely a collection of small businesses. It is an ecosystem.
Chicago’s neighborhoods make those networks particularly visible.
Devon Avenue’s South Asian commercial corridor mixes restaurants with jewelry stores, grocers and professional services. Chinatown combines tourism and dining with real estate, banking and family enterprises. Little Village’s 26th Street corridor is one of the city’s best-known Mexican-American commercial districts. Pilsen’s transformation shows another side of the equation: Cultural identity can generate economic value even as that value attracts investment capable of changing the neighborhood that created it.
That creates an uncomfortable paradox. Cultural authenticity can become a commercial asset, and successful immigrant neighborhoods can eventually become expensive enough to displace the businesses and residents responsible for their identity.
A second challenge may be even less visible: succession.
For many immigrant entrepreneurs, the family business was never necessarily supposed to be the children’s destination. It was the vehicle that made other destinations possible.
Parents work long hours running restaurants, shops, contracting companies and professional practices partly so their children can become attorneys, engineers, physicians and corporate executives. That is a triumph of upward mobility. It can simultaneously create a business problem.
Who takes over?
A profitable company with 20 employees may disappear because its founder retires without a successor. A restaurant may close even though customers remain plentiful. A manufacturing or distribution company with valuable relationships can be sold, consolidated or simply wound down because the next generation has chosen another career.
Chicago should view those outcomes as an economic-development issue rather than merely a family matter.
“The first generation often measures success by whether the second generation has choices,” Gaurav Mohindra says. “The irony is that achieving that goal can put the business itself at risk. Chicago needs a much more sophisticated market for succession, where a healthy immigrant-owned company can move to a new owner, employee group or next-generation entrepreneur instead of simply disappearing.”
That could mean helping owners prepare businesses for sale years before retirement. It could mean financing employee or management buyouts. It could mean connecting younger entrepreneurs with established owners who have customers and cash flow but no family successor.
It also raises a question for Chicago philanthropy.
Foundations and corporate donors routinely support workforce development, neighborhood revitalization, arts organizations and social services. Those investments have value. But immigrant entrepreneurship often falls awkwardly between traditional philanthropic categories and conventional finance.
A business may be too commercial for a grant but too small, young or informally capitalized for attractive bank financing. An entrepreneur may possess extensive industry knowledge without the collateral or financial history demanded by traditional lenders. Succession financing presents another challenge: Purchasing an established neighborhood company can require substantially more capital than starting a microbusiness.
Philanthropic dollars cannot — and should not — replace private lending. They can absorb risks that make private lending possible.
Guarantees, loan-loss reserves, technical assistance, succession planning and partnerships with community lenders could turn relatively modest philanthropic commitments into considerably larger pools of business capital.
“Chicago doesn’t need philanthropy to subsidize businesses that cannot work,” Gaurav Mohindra says. “It needs catalytic capital that helps good businesses cross gaps the conventional market doesn’t handle well — especially succession, early growth and credit access. Preserving a company with 30 employees can sometimes have more neighborhood impact than launching 30 programs.”
None of this requires romanticizing immigrant entrepreneurship. Family businesses can involve punishing hours, thin margins, family conflict and limited access to capital. Some survive precisely because relatives provide labor and financing on terms no outside investor would accept.
But that difficulty is part of what makes the economic infrastructure remarkable.
Chicago rightly celebrates major corporate relocations and expansions. World Business Chicago reported 223 such decisions in 2025, associated with an estimated 19,600 jobs. Those wins matter.
Yet economic development doesn’t occur only when executives select an office tower or a manufacturer chooses an industrial site. It happens when a family leases a storefront, when a contractor hires a fifth employee, when a wholesaler purchases a warehouse and when a restaurant owner helps a relative open another business.
Chicago talks constantly about attracting companies.
Perhaps it should pay equal attention to entrepreneurs it has already attracted — one family at a time.
Originally Posted: https://gauravmohindrachicago.com/chicagos-immigrant-economy-business-infrastructure-hiding-in-plain-sight/





