We recently connected with Keltse Bilbao and have shared our conversation below.
Alright, Keltse thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. How did you scale up? What were the strategies, tactics, meaningful moments, twists/turns, obstacles, mistakes along the way? The world needs to hear more realistic, actionable stories about this critical part of the business building journey. Tell us your scaling up story – bring us along so we can understand what it was like making the decisions you had, implementing the strategies/tactics etc.
Scaling Up: The Courage to Grow
By Keltse Bilbao
If there’s one thing I’ve learned on this journey, it’s that scaling up isn’t just about growth—it’s about courage. It’s about trusting your gut when there’s no clear roadmap, holding onto your vision when things fall apart, and choosing to try again even after you’ve been knocked down.
When I started Big and Tiny, I had an idea, a lot of passion, and $100,000 from a dear friend who believed in me and the dream. With that leap of faith, we opened our first location—a space that blended early childhood education with creativity and community. The response was incredible. Families embraced us, and our community grew faster than I ever imagined.
Riding that momentum, we opened a second location in Silver Lake in September 2019. It was everything we had hoped for: beautiful, vibrant, and full of potential. But just six months later, the world shut down. The pandemic hit our community hard—many of our families, artists and freelancers, lost their livelihoods overnight. Our Silver Lake school, built with so much care and love, never reopened. It was heartbreaking.
But even in the darkest moments, opportunities can appear. A few months later, we partnered with a stunning coworking space, Second Home, to offer on-site childcare. The idea was innovative—but this time, the families weren’t there. Their members were young professionals, and most didn’t have children. Again, we had to pivot.
Then came a new opportunity—one that felt both thrilling and daunting. Through a partnership with Brookfield, we were invited to open a school in New York City. I said yes. It was bold, maybe even a little crazy. I underestimated how difficult it would be to build a new team from scratch, far from the incredible community I had in Los Angeles. New regulations, construction delays, staffing challenges—it was a rollercoaster. But in 2022, we finally opened our doors… with just four families and four teachers.
Let’s just say, the numbers didn’t quite add up. We joked that it was the most personalized program in Manhattan. In truth, I was terrified—we had just enough cash in the bank to make it four months. No more. I wasn’t sure we’d survive.
Admissions in this industry are seasonal, and we had to fight for every enrollment. Slowly, one by one, families joined us. By the end of that first year, we had twenty children and the beginnings of something special. Still, we had to rebuild the team again, focus on culture, and do the hard work of laying the foundation. Now, three years later, the New York school has a waitlist—and a team I’m incredibly proud of.
Meanwhile, in LA, we faced another turning point. Our original model, which blended coworking and childcare, no longer made sense post-COVID. Parents’ habits had changed, and the city’s zoning laws made it almost impossible to adapt the space. For a moment, I seriously considered closing Los Angeles for good.
But life has a way of placing the right things in your path at the right time.
I stumbled upon a beloved little preschool in Santa Monica—10th Street Preschool. It had been open for 33 years and was filled with history, warmth, and legacy. When I walked through its red door, I felt something deep and immediate. I knew we had to give it a new life. I took another leap and acquired the school.
Merging our teams and communities has been one of the most beautiful, yet challenging, experiences of my career. We’ve worked hard to honor the school’s legacy while bringing new energy—like our dual-language Spanish program, something deeply personal to me as a native Spanish speaker.
And through it all, I’ve realized something essential: we cannot do this alone. None of this would have been possible without the incredible people beside me. The teachers who show up with love and dedication every day. The directors who lead with integrity. The families who believed in us—especially when things were uncertain. This work is not a solo act. It takes a village. It takes a team who shares your values and your commitment, even when the road gets bumpy.
The last eight months have been full of transition, vulnerability, and hope. But watching the children thrive, seeing our team grow stronger, and feeling the heartbeat of this new chapter—it’s been the greatest reward.
Scaling up is never a straight line. It’s hard. It’s risky. Sometimes it’s painful. But it’s also extraordinary. It’s waking up every day and deciding to keep going because you believe in what you’re building. It’s the joy of serving families, nurturing children, and creating something that leaves a mark.
I’ve learned that success isn’t just about the wins. It’s about what you do with the setbacks. It’s about leading with purpose, rebuilding when things break, and having the courage to bet on yourself—over and over again. But perhaps most importantly, it’s about knowing that even the boldest dreams are built together.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
For those who may not know me, I’m Keltse Bilbao, the founder of Big and Tiny—a unique early childhood education concept that blends creativity, community, and care. I started Big and Tiny not just as a school, but as a response to a need I personally felt when I became a mother. I was navigating early parenthood without a true village—no family nearby, no support system, and very few spaces that felt welcoming for both children and parents. That experience deeply shaped my mission: to create spaces that nurture not only children, but also the families raising them.
At Big and Tiny, we offer high-quality early childhood education with a strong focus on social-emotional development, play-based learning, and a growing dual-language Spanish program. We serve families with children ages 0–5, providing both full-day and part-day preschool, toddler, and infant programs. What sets us apart is our commitment to building intentional, warm communities where children are truly seen, and where teachers and parents feel connected and supported.
We solve real challenges for modern families—whether it’s the lack of flexible options, the isolation of early parenting, or the need for programs that reflect the cultural and linguistic diversity of the communities we serve. I’m most proud of the incredible team we’ve built, and the deep relationships we’ve formed with families over the years. Watching children grow up in our programs and return to visit years later is one of the greatest joys of this work.
If there’s one thing I want people to know about Big and Tiny, it’s that we lead with heart. We’re not just growing a school—we’re growing a community. And while the journey hasn’t always been easy, it’s been filled with purpose, love, and the unwavering belief that we’re building something meaningful, together.
Can you talk to us about your experience with buying businesses?
This past year, I found myself navigating a completely new kind of challenge—buying an existing business. Up until that point, every Big and Tiny location had been created from scratch: new spaces, new teams, and new communities that grew organically around our vision. But purchasing 10th Street Preschool in Santa Monica—a beloved school with a 33-year history—was an entirely different experience.
I underestimated the complexity of acquiring a business and merging two very different communities. When you build something from the ground up, people join because they believe in what you’re creating. But when you step into an established space, you’re entering a living, breathing culture with its own traditions, relationships, and rhythm. And while the intention was to bring new life and opportunities to this special school, I quickly realized that change, even good change, can be unsettling.
There was resistance—from both sides. Families who had been part of 10th Street for years worried about losing the familiar, while some of our Big and Tiny families hesitated to transition into a space that wasn’t “theirs” yet. They felt like outsiders for a moment, unsure if the magic we had built together could translate into this new environment.
But what I’ve learned is that transformation takes time, patience, and empathy. Everyone—children, parents, and teachers alike—comes into transition carrying emotions: fear, nostalgia, hope. We had to slow down, listen more deeply, and honor both communities’ experiences. We didn’t want to erase what existed—we wanted to build on it, respectfully and intentionally.
Over the past several months, we’ve focused not just on logistics and programs, but on healing and connection. And what’s emerged is something beautiful: a community that’s becoming stronger through its differences, more thoughtful because of its challenges, and more united through the shared goal of giving children the best possible start in life.
Can you open up about a time when you had a really close call with the business?
People often see the joyful photos, the vibrant classrooms, and the beautiful spaces we’ve built—but they don’t always see what it’s taken to survive behind the scenes. The truth is, there have been many moments when we almost didn’t make it. Times when payroll felt like a cliff edge, and we weren’t sure if we could hold on.
Like so many small businesses, COVID hit us hard. We lost revenue overnight. Families paused enrollment. I had to make painful decisions to reduce costs, cut our team, and restructure just to survive. There were times when I had to let go of incredibly talented people, not because of performance, but because we simply couldn’t afford to keep going as we were. I’ve always made it a point to be the first one to take a cut—it’s something I believe in as a leader—but that doesn’t make it any easier, especially as a parent raising two children in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
During the pandemic, we got creative and launched small learning pods to keep teachers employed and children engaged. It wasn’t perfect, but it allowed us to keep our core team working and our community supported. We’ve reinvented ourselves a million times to adapt—and it’s become almost a running joke in our leadership team: “We always make it through. Somehow, we always do.” But make no mistake, it hasn’t been luck. It’s been persistence, resourcefulness, and a whole lot of sleepless nights.
When we opened our New York school, I was terrified. We had four teachers and four children—and barely enough reserves to cover four months of operations. I was constantly calculating cash flow, learning to forecast in ways that were both empowering and terrifying. Watching that chart drop toward zero forced me to become more disciplined and financially strategic than ever before.
One of the few things that got us through those first hard months was the incredible trust of the families who prepaid tuition—giving us just enough runway to keep the lights on and pay our staff. I’ll never forget that. It was a moment of deep humility, and also a reminder that this work is held up by the trust and generosity of a larger community.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.bigandtiny10thst.com
- Instagram: bigandtiny10thst
Image Credits
Pixelab. Aaron Lyles. We hae other photos. let us know what works best