UPDATE: Good Tree has extended the deadline to apply until Nov. 15.

A Chicago entrepreneur is offering up $250,000 in loans to 100 social equity applicants hoping to win licenses to operate recreational pot shops in Illinois.

Fearing that people of color will be “grossly underrepresented in the applicant pool,” Seke Ballard, 35, told the Chicago Sun-Times that he plans to offer selected companies and individuals no-or low-interest loans to cover the $2,500 application fee for dispensary licenses.

“We’re not going to wait on the state [and] we’re not going to wait on the city,” said Ballard, the founder of Seattle-based Good Tree Capital, a startup that lends money to small cannabis firms. “We are going to make sure that at least 100 social equity applicants have the support and knowledge they need to submit complete, compelling applications.”

Good Tree will finance application fees for the first round of licenses offered to companies and individuals that don’t already have an interest in the state’s pot industry. The applications will be accepted between Dec. 10 and Jan. 2 — a day after sales of recreational marijuana kick off statewide — and up to 75 conditional dispensary licenses will be issued by May 1, according to the Illinois Department of Financial and Professional Regulation.

Individuals will get an edge by qualifying as social equity applicants if they’ve lived for five of the past 10 years in an area that’s been disproportionately impacted by past drug policies or have been arrested for or convicted of a minor pot offense. Additionally, employers will qualify if the majority of their workforce meets those criteria.

Some social equity applicants can also qualify for waivers from the state to cover half of their application fees. To qualify for a loan from Good Tree, applicants must fill out a form online to confirm they meet the qualifications before Nov. 15.

“We’re going to provide you with the capital,” Ballard said. “We expect to be paid back, but we’re not trying to make a profit off of you. We just want to make sure you’ve got the resources you need.”

Guided by self-reliance

Ballard’s entrepreneurial spirit can be traced back to his sleepy hometown of Leland, North Carolina, where his father ran a logging company and other businesses. He recalls a simple lesson his father instilled in him at young age: “No one will ever pay you your worth.”

Guided by that message of self-reliance, Ballard struck out on his own.

After graduating from the University of North Carolina, he spent two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in the Republic of Georgia and later earned his masters in business administration from Harvard University. Then, for years, he worked for a pair of monolithic corporations, Procter & Gamble and Amazon.

It wasn’t until 2015 that Ballard heeded his father’s advice to start his own business. That’s when he cashed in his shares of Amazon stock, moved to Chicago from Seattle and developed Good Tree at the 1871 tech incubator.

Driven to act by the lack of banking options for cannabis firms, Ballard built the crowdsourced funding platform to offer loans to licensed cannabis firms, many of which are led by minority entrepreneurs in five states — California, Colorado, Washington, Oregon and Massachusetts.

Good Tree has however shifted its focus “almost exclusively to Illinois,” according to Ballard, who now lives in Bronzeville. Despite lauding the equity provisions laid out in the state pot law, Ballard has concerns about the rollout.

During one informational session hosted by Good Tree, many of the 50 qualifying applicants in attendance were unaware of the provisions in the legalization law that were specifically written to benefit them. He said he was shocked to learn that no one knew about a state-run business development fund that could provide them with grants, loans and technical assistance.

Ballard worries the poor communication by state officials could end up making it hard to reach the law’s social equity goals and result in a “failure across the board.”

“I feel like I’m sort of alone on an island waving a red flag and hoping someone sees that danger is approaching,” he said. “And to me, danger looks like Jan. 1.”