When I first started working with diasporic makers—artists and craft practitioners who had migrated or whose families had moved across borders—I was eager, idealistic and, frankly, inexperienced. I believed that connecting their work to new markets would be an uncomplicated win: makers would earn, buyers would discover beautiful objects, and everyone would feel uplifted. I learned quickly that money alone doesn't fix the deeper issues at play. How you negotiate revenue-sharing matters. It shapes how craft is represented, whether cultural labour is respected, and whether objects become flattened into generic commodities.

In the years since, I’ve developed practices that attempt to centre dignity, agency and long-term relationships. Below I share principles and practical steps that have helped me—often imperfectly—negotiate revenue-sharing with diasporic makers without reducing craft to a box on a shelf.

Start from listening, not from a price tag

Too many commercial conversations begin with margins and end with creative control conceded to the buyer. I always start by asking questions: what does this practice mean to you? How was it learned and transmitted? What do you want a project to achieve beyond income? These are not rhetorical. Makers’ priorities can include cultural visibility, language preservation, intergenerational teaching, or funding a studio space—not just an immediate paycheck.

Listening accomplishes two things. It gives me context to build fair offers, and it signals respect. In many diasporic contexts, cultural knowledge was carried through vulnerable channels—oral history, hidden practice, or small family enterprises. That history should inform any revenue model.

Define value together: material, cultural and social

When we talk about “value” we often mean the market price. I try to broaden the conversation to include:

  • Material value — labour hours, cost of materials, tools and space.
  • Cultural value — the knowledge embedded in the making, the meaning of motifs, the lineage or ceremony connected to objects.
  • Social value — community benefit, apprenticeships created, or visibility given to a marginalised aesthetic.

    • When you quantify only material value you erase the other layers. I insist on documenting and embedding cultural value into agreements—either through credit lines, storytelling, or revenue percentages that recognise expertise, not just physical output.

    Practical revenue-sharing models I use

    There’s no single right model. Context matters: are you working with an individual maker, a cooperative, or a diaspora-run business? Below are common approaches and the contexts where they fit best.

    Model How it works Best for
    Flat fee A one-off payment for a set body of work Short-term commissions where makers prefer immediate cash
    Revenue split Percentage of sales shared after costs Collaborative product launches where ongoing return is expected
    Licensing Payment for use of design or motif for a period When designs are reproduced at scale by a company
    Hybrid Small upfront fee + lower revenue percentage Balancing immediate needs and long-term benefits

    I favour the hybrid option when possible. It meets immediate needs (many diasporic makers have urgent financial responsibilities) while sharing future upside so the maker benefits from the value they help create. I have used a 30/70 split (maker/retailer) on small-batch craft and adjusted for scale—larger retailers require different splits, but the principle remains: transparent accounting, and a share that reflects labour and intellectual contribution.

    Use transparent accounting and simple reporting

    Vagueness about sales and royalties breeds mistrust. Even if the accounting is basic, make it visible. I agree with makers on a reporting cadence—monthly or quarterly—and share straightforward spreadsheets that show units sold, retail price, costs and the net share. If the platform supports it, I give makers access to sales dashboards. If not, I email a clear report and welcome questions.

    Language, credit and storytelling are currency

    Monetary splits are crucial, but recognition also has value. I insist on visible credit lines—maker name, community, and where appropriate, a short note about the technique or the cultural context. These credits should appear on product pages, labels and press material. Platforms like Etsy, Folklore Collective or fair trade retailers often do this well, but commercial partners sometimes resist. I push for it anyway; it’s part of reparative practice.

    Protect against cultural appropriation and extractive replication

    Negotiation should include clauses about reproduction and use. I learned this the hard way after a traditional motif—a structural stitch pattern—was adapted by a designer partner and reproduced without further consultation. Now, contracts stipulate whether a design is licensed for exclusive use, time-limited, region-limited, or non-transferable. If a buyer wants to adapt a pattern for mass production, I expect higher licensing fees and co-creative involvement so the community benefits.

    Consider cooperative and community-led models

    Working through cooperatives or community organisations changes the dynamics. It aggregates bargaining power and ensures proceeds are distributed according to group priorities. When possible, I encourage makers to form small collectives, or I work with existing diaspora organisations that have governance structures. This adds administrative work but often results in fairer outcomes.

    Be flexible about currency, payment methods and timelines

    Makers may prefer different payment methods—bank transfer, mobile money, PayPal, or cash—especially across borders. I’ve seen costly delays and hidden fees erode trust. Before signing anything, agree on payment channels and who covers transaction fees. When working across jurisdictions, consider splitting payments into local currency when feasible, and be explicit about exchange-rate handling.

    Use clear, accessible contracts

    Contracts tend to be intimidating. I co-draft simple agreements in plain language and, where necessary, translate them. Key clauses I never omit:

  • Scope of work and deliverables
  • Revenue split or payment schedule
  • Reporting cadence and access to sales data
  • Rights retained (design, reproduction, storytelling)
  • Credit and attribution requirements
  • Dispute resolution and termination terms

    • When budgets allow, I fund legal clinics or community legal advisors so makers can receive independent advice. That gesture is small but important: consent is meaningful only when informed.

    Build for longevity, not one-off optics

    I’ve turned away from projects that felt like “diversity tourism”—short-term bursts of visibility that don't translate into sustained relationships. Instead, I invest in capacity-building: training in pricing and marketing, joint exhibitions, or helping makers secure vendor spaces at markets. Revenue-sharing shouldn't be a single contract; it should be part of a relationship ecosystem that helps makers scale on their terms.

    Watch for common pitfalls

    Some traps I warn colleagues about:

  • Invisible labour: Failing to pay for preparatory work like sampling, translation or cultural consultation.
  • Tokenisation: Including a maker only to tick a diversity box without changing structures.
  • Power asymmetry: Assuming the buyer sets all terms because they "control distribution."
  • Undefined IP: Leaving cultural expressions unprotected and then seeing them diluted.

    • Being mindful of these helps me course-correct sooner rather than later.

    Resources and models I recommend

    I’ve learned a lot from organisations and examples that try to do this well. A few to consider:

  • Ten Thousand Villages — ethical retail that foregrounds producer stories and fair pay.
  • People Tree — a fashion brand with transparent supply chains and long-term partnerships.
  • Local cooperative models in places like Sheffield or Antwerp that show how small initiatives can scale ethically.

    • Finally, remember that fairness is iterative. I don’t always get it right, but by centring listening, transparent accounting and cultural respect, I’ve found partnerships that are financially viable and culturally sustaining. If you’re about to negotiate your first agreement with a diasporic maker, take time, ask the hard questions, and design models that recognise value beyond the price tag.