Oakland cafe stands as a safe haven for community building and collective resistance
Fourteen years ago, Penny Baldado opened the doors to Cafe Gabriela in the heart of Downtown Oakland, serving freshly brewed coffee and morning pastries to locals along Broadway. The cafe earned just 50 dollars on its first day—a modest beginning far from the success Baldado had envisioned. But their dream for the cafe went beyond the daily grind of making sales. Baldado wanted to create a welcoming place where neighbors could forge connections and find a sense of belonging.
“Cafe Gabriela is for the whole community. I see people as people, and when I say 'us,' I mean every person who seeks a safe space, to feel cared for, seen, and acknowledged,” Baldado said.
Establishing the cafe was anything but easy for Baldado, who was an undocumented immigrant at the time. Qualifying for business loans and securing a lease proved particularly difficult due to their immigration status and limited credit history. To help fund their venture, Baldado leaned on family and friends. They acquired a small storefront at 988 Broadway, which required minimal build-out and allowed them to settle in quickly. The location has been the cafe's home ever since.
“Cafe Gabriela was a way for me to survive. I initially created this space for myself, but as I connected with my community and chosen family, I realized I wouldn't be here without them,” Baldado said.
Coworkers Elvia Hernandez and Penny Baldado manage orders during a lunch rush at Cafe Gabriela in Oakland, Calif., on August 16, 2024. Photos: Jen Rocha Photography
Baldado named the cafe after María Josefa Gabriela Cariño de Silang, a Filipina revolutionary known for her courageous leadership during the independence movement against Spanish colonial rule. Silang's role in the struggle for liberation became a source of motivation for Baldado, especially in moments of uncertainty and self-doubt.
“I've known about Gabriela Silang growing up in the Philippines,” Baldado said. “Her actions, bravery, and acts of courage and resistance have inspired a lot of people in so many ways. Her spirit became my North Star.”
In contrast to the well-staffed operations of Cafe Gabriela today, Baldado managed every aspect of the business during its early years.
“I had to do everything. I had to wake up in the morning, pick up the pastries and supplies, open the shop, help customers, ring them up, wash the dishes, clean the floors, and do it all over again,” Baldado said.
When a customer asked if there were other options beyond coffee and pastries, Baldado saw it as an opportunity to be creative. They expanded the cafe's offerings to include a selection of salads, hearty sandwiches, and a signature dish that pays homage to their Filipino roots— the “Pulled Pork Adobo.” The slow-cooked meat, simmered in soy sauce, vinegar, garlic, and sweet sauteed yellow onions and served on a toasted French sweet baguette, is an expression of Filipino hospitality, Baldado explained.
“People were curious at first. They’d ask, ‘Why pork adobo? Why not chicken?’ I'd explain that the dish comes from my home, where I feel cared for, and I wanted to serve it to you,” Baldado said.
Home was Davao City, Philippines. In 1999, Baldado moved to the United States to reunite with their parents. With a degree in veterinary medicine, they secured a position at a clinic in Santa Cruz, California, where they were assured a work visa. But the job fell through, and Baldado was left navigating the lengthy path to residency without immigration status. It was a vulnerable time, they recalled.
“What really inspired and motivated me to create and found Cafe Gabriela was actually my personal experience being an undocumented immigrant," Baldado said. "I was tired of hiding and being taken advantage of because of my situation, so decided to stay and work in the restaurant industry.”
While working various stints in the restaurant industry, Baldado witnessed how some employers mistreated immigrant workers.
“There was this rhetoric even up to now that immigrants, especially undocumented immigrants, ‘steal jobs.’ So I thought, ‘What if I create my own job and provide for myself?’” Baldado said.
Photos: Jen Rocha Photography
Baldado’s intention in establishing Cafe Gabriela was not only to combat anti-immigrant sentiments but also to support and bring attention to other causes. Inside the cafe, visitors are greeted with Free Palestine and Black Lives Matter signs and an altar devoted to peace and abundance—elements that reflect the cafe’s motto: “Food, coffee, and our cafe space are our tools of resistance and our way to connect with community.”
“Gabriela and the business were both personal, but my personal is also political,” Baldado said.
Through participating in different movements, Baldado learned how fractured systems, unjust policies, and forced displacement affect individuals like them—ranging from workers, farmers, students, and Dreamers who have dared to stand up and organize for social change.
“In my lived experience being a trans-queer, formerly undocumented Filipinx immigrant from a poor working class, the struggles of these intersections felt very isolating,” Baldado said. “But I have a responsibility both for my own life and for my community.”
This responsibility can manifest in many ways, Baldado explained. It might involve creating spaces like Cafe Gabriela, welcoming customers, or offering dishes that carry sentimental value and cultural importance.
“That responsibility may also include being able to tell your truth or your story without fear or shame but with a sense of pride, dignity, and purpose,” Baldado said. “It’s also understanding that your story of liberation is intertwined and interconnected with mine.”
Baldado reopened Cafe Gabriela’s indoor dining space in March 2024 following a four-year closure due to the COVID-19 pandemic. In addition to providing limited catering and pick-up services, Cafe Gabriela also shared space with the World Kitchen to help provide meals to immigrants and people experiencing homelessness in Oakland.
"What brings me joy is when people come back after three, four years, or even just a couple of days or a week. They would pass by and check if I was still there, and they would say, 'Oh, remember me?' It's just nice to be able to see folks and build community in that way. There are other sweet moments like that," Baldado said.
Baldado envisions a future where the cafe passes on to the community that has helped nurture and shape it.
“It's been a good 14 years," Baldado said. "My hope and my dream is to hand it to young folks because Cafe Gabriela is not mine. It's the community's."