“The truth is I’m a musician,” Tita Garcia, creative director, producer, and CEO/founder of Violet House Entertainment, says about her start in the music industry. “I’m a singer-songwriter. I played guitar and piano, and I was born into music because of my grandfather, a great piano player, and my father, who was in one of the best rock bands back home.” Garcia was 11 when she relocated from Ecuador to Miami, FL, with her family. She kept busy by participating in after-school music programs, which fueled her interest in pursuing a music career. She took part in talent shows, studied music business and performance at Berklee College of Music after high school, and auditioned for NBC’s The Voice.
“I auditioned for Broadway musicals and operas… and then I freaked out. I didn’t know how to behave onstage!” she says. This stage fright led her to reconsider her role in the industry and shift to working behind the scenes, including with multi-industry mogul Dame Dash’s radio program. Garcia credits attending New York City’s Latin American Music Conference as a major turning point in her career. “I started working closely on the editorial side, working with talent and doing shows with brands. Little by little, I wanted to build a creative agency, and Violet House began back in 2016,” she shares.
Garcia’s roster includes partnerships with the 2017 Latin Grammys, HBO Latino, Redbull, Warner Brothers, Billboard, and the New York Latino Film Festival. Last month, the businesswoman helped curate a series of neighborhood-centered events that kicked off the opening of downtown Miami’s first Apple store.
We spoke with the Ecuador-born, Miami-raised creative director about combating doubts, pushing past comfort zones, and keeping her work community-oriented to open doors for the next generation of Latina creatives.
What was that one moment or turning point where you felt like you were in the right place, where you said, “Okay, this is the right path. This is the direction I want to take?”
The moment I created my own company, I was so scared. I watched so many of my peers succeed, landing big gigs and creating beautiful work. But nothing could ever fulfill me as much as saying, ‘I did this on my own!’ I launched Violet with my own income, trusting my gut, and I told myself, ‘I’m going to do this. I’m going to risk it all.’ The moment I took that leap, I knew — this is where I belong. This is where I need to be. Right now, I feel so confident. It’s so hard to get to this place, and I’m still not at a hundred percent — but I’m at 98 percent. And that’s huge.
It’s overwhelming. I imagine it was such an intimidating moment, but you stuck to your vision and you now work for yourself. It paid off.
I lay down in my bed and I’m like, “Yo, I just did that on my own money, and I pay my people.” That’s amazing.
On that note — a lot of times we see people advancing in their careers or posting about their big moves on social media. But it’s not as common for us to hear or see those more introspective moments where somebody thinks about quitting or going down another career path. Did you ever have a moment like that where you thought it was time for you to drop this? How did you overcome that?
The moment I decided to launch Violet House, I knew it was risky. I said, “Eff it. Let’s just do it.” But over the years, there were moments of doubt; times when I thought, “Okay, you’re not where you were five years ago, with that salary, that success, and those resources from a company backing you.” I’d wonder, “Do I go back to a nine-to-five?” Probably a small percentage of the time, but it crossed my mind. There’s a security you need at the end of the day. What kept me going was knowing I didn’t see many women like me in this space. I had to become the representation I was looking for. That fueled me — not just for Violet, but for others. The more I focused on what I could build, the less I questioned whether I should go back just to cover rent, car payments, credit cards. No! You’re bigger than that. Stop. Now, I make sure those doubts don’t creep in. I amplify my voice and my community — and I haven’t gone back to a full-time position for anybody.
I love that and I love that for you. Did you have any mentors or other women that inspired you or helped you get to where you are now?
Funny enough, not many women have mentored me! There’s one behind the scenes, though — the one I always go back to for her thoughts, energy, wisdom, and words — my mother. That woman will not stop! She’ll break all the barriers for you. She’s my example, my mentor. Because of her, I’ve prioritized mentoring other women and sharing those insights.
Part of Violet House’s growth is a mentoring program designed to create spaces where Latinas can thrive without compromising who they are. I’ve been fortunate to be invited to universities like the University of Miami, Florida International University, and Florida State University to bring masterclasses on the music business, my journey, and my challenges. That’s my main focus right now. Mentoring is at the core of my work, and being part of the education ecosystem is my world. Beyond that, I’ve gotten guidance from everywhere, but at the end of the day, you’re the only one who can mentor yourself — who can decide what’s right for you and what’s going to happen in your life.
What would you say is one of the biggest hardships that you’ve faced as a woman or as a Latina in the music industry?
The ‘noes’ only fuel me for the next opportunity. For me, it was more like, “Okay, I’ll prove my talent, my hard work, and that my resilience can’t be ignored.” I didn’t dwell on it — I just kept going. It freaked me out in some ways, but it was more about being a rebel, like, “What, you’re going to tell me no?” It was hard, and it still is, but I think now our presence in these rooms can be a little more intimidating.
What has been one of your favorite parts of where you are now in your journey?
My relationship with rising artists and a few stars. Getting to know them on a deeper level, having conversations, and creating work together. It’s also been fascinating to see the potential of what I’ve built with partners. Billboard was a great example — I never thought I’d lead the production of the first Mujeres Latinas en la Música, but I did that two years ago with an all-women team. The same with Women in Music. The people knocking at your door, the ability to choose your partners — that motivation and those communities matter. There will always be amazing people coming your way, but where I’m at now and what I’m creating feel essential to my growth, to Violet House, and to those around me. Seeing artists develop is another pillar of Violet — artist bookings, shows, management, representation, and mentoring. Those conversations are important to me, and that’s what we want to keep bringing in the future.
Is there an artist or group you got to work on a project with that you were proud of?
Juan Luis Guerra! That’s my guy! Oh my God! This was a partnership with the New York Latino Film Festival and HBO Latino. We did a documentary during COVID called Entre Mar y Palmeras, and it was huge for me. Also, back when I was working with Dame Dash, I was fortunate enough to be around Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill, Kanye West, Mos Def — all these incredible personalities you’d never expect.
We’ve been seeing more women artists and creatives in the music field come out and talk about how their work went unprotected, or about how they put their trust in the wrong person. What’s been your perspective on this? Is it something that you’ve seen happen?
I think I’ve had something similar. You bring your creativity to the table, pitch it, and sometimes it gets pushback, then someone else runs with it. It happens every day. I’ve seen it firsthand, and it’s heartbreaking. The lesson I learned? You have a platform. Maybe you start with five friends, sharing ideas and executing them together. But my takeaway was: don’t work with friends. They might run with your idea and make it their own. It was hard on me, and it happens. And it’s not just friends; it can be a company or a CEO. They hire you to consult, you pitch 20,000 ideas, and next year, you see them thriving with their festival. It’s all about trust. Surround yourself with people who genuinely want to see you succeed. Think about who’s in your corner — are they unifying or just taking? I reflect on that all the time, and since then, it hasn’t happened again. But we see it a lot. The real question is: Why does this keep happening? How do you avoid it? And if it does happen, how do you adjust?
What do you feel can be done to make the music industry be more safe and more collective for women?
Instead of always looking up to the biggest superstar, the one with all the followers, or the artist getting booked constantly, we should look deeper, at the people actually doing the work. You don’t always have to go to the top. I’m one of those people who’s like, “¡Ya! Stop!” when someone says, “Why haven’t they selected me?” or “Why this and that?” Just do it. Have the courage and go for it. That mindset comes from trauma, therapy, and all of that, but I strive to push more women artists and talent to put themselves out there and give it a try. The biggest fear is failure — and the competition.
We also need to listen to more voices beyond the same five music executives who dominate panels and conferences. Even major platforms need to do the work. Go out and ask the underdogs — who is their community? Who are they working with? We want to hear them. It’s about creating opportunities and elevating those who aren’t front and center in every magazine or conference. Why do we keep hearing from the same voices? How can we expand? Can we start reaching out to more women in the music industry — not just the same ones we’ve heard from for the past 10 years? I think it’s really up to us.
Sometimes other women will be the ones that affect a woman’s journey or our successes and you’ll see this pattern of someone getting ahead and the people around that person will try to pull her down right away. Can you explain why this crabs-in-a-barrel mentality, this “If I can’t have it, you can’t have it either” mentality, is harmful to anybody in this field?
Listen, it’s simple: gatekeeping. This “Only me, me, me. I want to be the only one who does everything” mindset stems from lack of self-worth, insecurity, upbringing, family values, and character. By putting someone down or saying, “No! I want this,” you’re only hurting yourself and your community. And it shows: you end up alone, with only a few small people celebrating you. I’m super against that. Be inclusive. You’ve had your wins, and you’ll get more. But include the people around you. That’s the only way we grow. There’s a difference between leadership and being the boss. If your mentality is, “I’m the only one who can do this. I’m the only one who does it better,” that’s not leadership. I’ve been trying to walk as a leader, opening space so someone can come in and do a better job than I did.
What do you hope to personally change about the music industry, especially when it comes to the next generation of Latina women in this kind of space? Can you go into the importance of a legacy making space for other people while you’re on your journey? You kind of touched on this before but what do you hope to change for the next generation of women following in your footsteps?
I don’t know if it’s about change. I think it’s more of a mindset — being faithful to yourself and what excites you every day when you wake up, going in with high standards. Through that lens, you’ll always feel secure. That sense of self-leadership, that confidence… continue to do the work of [seeing] how great you are, and have the desire and passion to always want to create. I had to become who I am and represent what I was looking for. Give yourself opportunities and continue to expand your community, who you are, and your art. I think about that question too — what do I want to leave? I want to leave behind great work and say that I was a good person, that I meant right by you.
