“I’m an activist,” says Andy Shallal. He is perched on a window seat in the bookstore section of his most creative enterprise and one of DC’s most pivotal gathering places: Busboys and Poets. But for the founder and owner of Busboys, this pithy self-description isn’t an exercise in reduction; it’s a summary of what directs Shallal’s visionary spirit and entrepreneurial life.

It hasn’t been three years since Busboys and Poets opened its big glass doors on 14th and V streets NW in September 2005. But in that short time the restaurant, lounge, bookstore, art and politics forum and community meeting space has become a touchstone for Washingtonians. Offering patrons everything from poetry slams and author signings to political discussions and demonstration rallies, the venue is more than just an eatery. It reflects Shallal’s vision of America at its democratic best.

“When we moved into this country … and decided to stay, it was a big decision to make,” says Shallal, who was 11 years old in 1966 when his family immigrated to Northern Virginia from Iraq. “We weren’t refugees. We weren’t economically deprived. We didn’t come here because we were particularly oppressed [in Iraq]. We came here because we saw this country as having so many opportunities. Not only for one to succeed, but also opportunities that you don’t find in other countries: where you have the ability to speak out, to have freedom of speech, religion and self expression.”

Shallal first encountered those freedoms during the Vietnam War. His high school classmates coordinated a protest against the war, walking out of class together and sitting down in the school hallways. Shallal participated in the protest and was encouraged by the principal’s response to it.

“I remember the principal coming out and saying, ‘We appreciate what you guys are doing. You’re exercising your freedom of speech, but we need you to get back to school because that’s what we’re here to do.’ There was no lockdown, there was no police force coming in, spraying us with mace or throwing us against the window. It was so cool to see that this was a real, serious democracy that really does listen – not only to the adult members of the community, but to the kids.”

But Shallal sees a decline in that democracy’s willingness to listen to the people, and he refuses to ignore suppression. He doesn’t take his freedoms for granted and exercises them through activism with a number of movements and organizations: DC Voting Rights, Think Local First, the International Partnership Council, the Anacostia Museum, Arab-Jewish dialogues and a variety of political campaigns.

Through his work in these capacities, Shallal quickly discovered that there were few appropriate meeting spaces for activists to unite and organize around issues of social justice. Enter Busboys and Poets. Shallal was a medical immunologist at the National Institute of Health when he realized that he was unmotivated by his work and had dreams of encouraging change on a larger scale. “I was doing leukemia research,” he starts. “But … it was too political!”

He shifted careers, entering the restaurant business and owning several smaller eateries before melding his passion for activism and business in the Busboys enterprise.

“For me it was like, OK, what is it that I love,” he explains. “What do activists dream about? They dream about changing the world. And how do you do it? I guess the new word that’s entered the lectionary is social entrepreneur.”

With his social entrepreneurship, Shallal has created a space where people can gather, dialogue and generate movements toward greater peace and justice. A second Busboys and Poets has already opened in Shirlington, and expansion is slated for three more locations: Hyattsville, Fifth and K streets NW and one still undetermined locale.

Shallal has hit his stride. He is an attentive host at events, meeting new customers, chatting with old friends and taking as much interest in the proceedings as the activist patrons who surround him. With the support of his family, a resilient hope for social change and assurance of the need Busboys fills, he will continue to live out and perfect this dream.

“Remarkably, I don’t [burn out],” he says. “I think that we as a society have separated work and life. Someone will ask me, ‘Why don’t you get a life?’ Well, this is my life. I have one.”