words were flying off the table before the Kids Business Fair officially opened. Demand clearly outstripped supply, but rather than adjust the $3 price and possibly discourage further sales, the vendor ramped up production to fill back-ordered purchases. And his grandfather helped.

Breck’s Swords was one of two dozen or so merchants set up at The Workshop, a nonprofit community space in South Anchorage. As the only seller of handmade toys, young Breck cornered the market. He and his papa cranked out cardboard cutlasses wrapped in gray tape. Breck found the sword design online after rejecting his first idea for making and selling rubber band-powered toothpick shooters. Even the youngest entrepreneurs must be conscious of product liability.

Budding brainiacs have their science fairs; up-and-coming performers have their recitals; and tiny tycoons have the Kids Business Fair. The event was the brainchild of Kasie Krage, whose kids sold handmade pottery, keychains, and paracord bracelets for three hours that Saturday in April.

A steady stream of customers flowing through the storefront on Huffman Road could also find jewelry, polished stones, homemade crayons, scarves, stickers, candies, and baked goods.

One young designer sold magnets for $2 and embroideries for $12, both featuring original Crafty Critters animal characters. Hazel drafted a business plan to account for materials and the time spent making the items. The fair enabled Hazel to translate art into something that makes money.

Another Hazel sold lip balm and bath bombs, both in commercial-grade packaging. Shrink wrap with “H-Bomb” logos gave the merchandise a professional touch; she sells the items at other fairs, too. Other vendors created bookmarks, earrings, or sourdough starters especially for the Kids Business Fair.

The youngest vendor was not yet in preschool, selling bird feeders that his parents say left seeds scattered around the house during the assembly process. At a neighboring table, teenagers from the Anchorage Waldorf School sold homemade candles and woodcraft to raise money for an 8th grade class trip next year.

Sure, there are bake sales, carnivals, maker markets, or craft shows where junior entrepreneurs can sell their wares, but Krage wanted the Kids Business Fair to be different. “Plenty of adult-based vendor bazaars,” she points out, “but not as many geared toward kids.”

Her vision was to showcase creativity while kids practice the basics of buying and selling. “We wanted to really emphasize that it was a business endeavor for them,” she says. “I wanted [it] to be open to as many groups as possible: public school children, homeschool children, any group.”

The idea for the Kids Business Fair came to Krage in late 2023. “My kids heard of a business fair that happened in December with a homeschool group,” she says, but that event was limited to members of that group. She’d have to make her own.

Krage already knew of a suitable location. She and her family are regular users at The Workshop, established in November 2022 as a gathering place for family activities. Krage recalls, “We were coming here anyway, so I asked LeeAnna if it fit in her mission statement.”

LeeAnna Chronister is the executive director of The Workshop. In her previous career as a photographer, she gained experience running a business and renting out the studio. She drew upon that background to create a nonprofit to serve the community.

“We have a variety of classes, both extracurricular—like art, chess clubs, games, things like that—and a lot of homeschool classes happen here. We do a lot of family events, dance parties, educational family events [e.g., Earth Day],” Chronister explains. “We do a lot of senior socials where they can bring their grandchildren and cultivate those important relationships. In general, there’s a lot of people that decide on their own to meet up and have play dates in an environment that’s safe and not going to cost an arm and a leg, not worry about their toddlers running off.”

The space is open to the public Monday through Saturday. Membership is like a library card, Chronister says, and payment is by donation. The shop includes a lounge, play area, and classroom programming.

The Workshop is rather unique for the neighborhood around Huffman Road.

“When we were looking for a location for this community center, we wanted to reach an area of town that did not have other social services. There are no social services south of Dimond [Boulevard], so it’s a very unreached location,” she says. “Traditionally, people think of South Anchorage as the more affluent side of town, but that has changed. It’s not necessarily that way anymore; there’s a lot of families on this side of town that need services just as badly as anywhere else. That’s why we picked Huffman.”

Social services, she believes, sets The Workshop apart from similar spaces.

“It was a shock to me, coming from out of state thirteen years ago, that Alaska doesn’t have community centers for families,” Chronister says. “We have rec centers, but we don’t have community centers like what I’m used to, which is a place that facilitates just hanging out, taking an art class. The next best thing we have is The Nave [in Spenard], but that’s more events oriented; it’s not a space where you can walk in and hang out with your friends and let your toddlers play.”

The emphasis at The Workshop is on art and education, which is particularly useful for homeschool families. “There is really nothing like it, especially in Alaska,” Chronister adds. “We focus on things that bring family together and cultivate healthy relationships in our community.”

More than a casual hangout, Chronister sees The Workshop as a tool to prevent systemic problems. “We are identifying needs in our community, to fill them or redirect them. If we can fill a need that we see when someone walks in, it’s our responsibility to do so. If we can’t, it’s our responsibility to refer them to another organization that can.”

Chronister estimates that The Workshop serves about 200 to 300 people per week, apart from special events like the Kids Business Fair. “It’s a happening place all week long. We like having it feel like a home,” she says.

She hopes to be able to launch more locations. “Eventually, we would like to have small community centers on each side of Anchorage that cater to those neighborhoods instead of expanding into one bigger center,” Chronister says.

Expansion is at least five years down the road. Chronister says, “It’s been an adventure. We’ve seen a lot of growth very quickly—which confirms that we’re filling needs.”

Fast growth also describes the Kids Business Fair. “I didn’t expect it to become this large, to be honest,” Krage says.

Money changed hands briskly as customers circulated through the tables. Krage set the booth fee low enough that kids could easily cover the overhead with the day’s sales. “We wanted to gear it toward a price that kids could feel they could afford.”

Chronister’s kids set up their own table, too, selling cotton candy. It’s their mom’s machine, but they started whipping up treats as practice for another carnival later in the spring. The table fee goes to Krage, as the organizer, and Krage pays rent to The Workshop for hosting and facilitating the event.

“We try to make it as easy as possible to put stuff on like this,” Chronister says.

Krage looks forward to more fairs in the future. She might adjust the table fee, based on lessons learned—just as the young makers and sellers of necklaces, pen-toppers, and marshmallows gained experience about starting and running a small business.

What did they learn?

The importance of segmented marketing. Three booths sold plants, but they avoided direct competition by differentiating their products. One batch of nasturtiums and Swiss chard was started for aero- or hydroponic growing, while the table across the way sold seedlings in soil. Another flower stand sold jars of sourdough, too, the logic being that it’s made of flour. Get it?

Sellers learned how to set prices. One table sold jewelry, painted clocks, dreamcatchers, and knit goods, all for various dollar amounts. The proprietress explained that the price depends on size and whether it’s hard or easy to make—which is exactly what adult artisans say. A young baker offered cheap $0.50 cookies at the front of the table to attract customers toward more expensive treats at the rear, thereby discovering the concept of the loss leader.

At a booth selling silicone bottle toppers, the merchant declared that she’s saving money to invest in bigger things. As for Breck’s Swords, the proceeds go toward raising pet rabbits.

When the next sword came off the production line, it sold immediately. Breck had to make change for a $5 bill. At his age, five minus three is a lesson worth practicing.