MIAMI – Do an Internet search for microcredit, and images of colorfully dressed women in Africa, South Asia and Central America pop up. But the international trend that began more than three decades ago in Bangladesh is increasingly finding a home in the United States.

In cities like Miami, New York, Houston and Los Angeles, a small but growing group of mostly immigrant and minority entrepreneurs are turning to microfinancing. These loans, generally provided by nonprofit groups, can serve as stepping stones to more traditional sources of credit and are often the difference between success and failure for small-business owners who may have nowhere else to turn for the money they need to build a business.

“You know this ‘Buy Local’ movement? There’s starting to be this ‘Lend Local’ movement,” says Premal Shaw, president of the nonprofit Kiva, which allows individual donors to select a micro entrepreneur online, a process he likens to Match.com meets microfinance.

For smaller startups, especially those owned by minorities, it can be tough to get the financing needed to expand and grow a business. Just under a quarter of non-minority firms whose total revenue was less than $500,000 received loans, compared with 17 percent of minority firms, according to government figures. Making things worse, banks have become pickier about who they lend to since the financial crisis began in 2008.

Activity among micro-lenders, however, has been gaining steam. The number of microloans disbursed increased by 25 percent from 2008 to 2010, according to a study by the FIELD program run by The Aspen Institute, a think tank based in Washington, D.C. Women entrepreneurs are the most likely to turn to microloans.

Lynette Tyner was a struggling African American fashion designer from New York. She used $10,000 in loans from nonprofit microlender Accion to buy machinery and open a studio and retail store to sell her denim outfits and bags. She now sells her designs online and through New York wholesalers.

For some micro-lenders, the relationship with the entrepreneurs goes beyond the loan. Financial literacy classes, mentoring and other training are often part of the program.

“I was able to meet some great people and get priceless advice for my business, like the editor-in-chief of Glamour Magazine and the CFO of Ralph Lauren,” Tyner said of the additional support provided by Accion. She even got to attend a workshop with fashion designer Tory Burch.

Microloans tend to range from $500 to $10,000, but can be as much as $50,000, with interest rates varying from 3 percent to 18 percent. Loans usually are repaid within six months to several years, and often they go to businesses that employ just one or two people. Requirements differ, but credit standards tend to be lower than those of banks and other financial institutions, and the loans are processed quickly. Individual donors who lend to entrepreneurs on Kiva don’t earn interest, or profit, from the loans.

Going through traditional channels is difficult, if not impossible, for many small entrepreneurs. The U.S. Small Business Administration guarantees loans averaging around $330,000. It has a small microloan component, but even there, loans average about $13,000. It doesn’t make much financial sense for banks to spend time with clients seeking much smaller loans, said Paul Quintero, CEO of the international microfinance nonprofit Accion East, but he says that’s where organizations like his can step in as intermediaries by bundling the credit.

One challenge is that many people who could use these loans don’t know about them. Quintero would like to see banks that turn down loan requests provide information about microlending alternatives.

Margarita Briones worked for decades in restaurants and other jobs before striking out on her own with a flower stand across from the Miami Marlins stadium in Little Havana. Five years ago she got her first microloan from Miami-based OUR Microlending to expand her selection and improve the shade that protects her cart from South Florida’s merciless sun.

“Sometimes I earn a little, sometimes a lot, but I’d rather be out here in the sun, my own boss,” she said. “I am very grateful that they helped me do that.”

Her children thought the loan offer was a scam, but the Nicaraguan immigrant had tried to take out bank loans to no avail, and pressed on. She repaid her $3,300 loan plus interest within a year and has taken out three more.

Things worked out for Briones, but her children’s worries weren’t unprecedented. The microfinance industry isn’t without some controversy. The total number of active microloan accounts fell 22 percent in India after that country’s largest microfinance market, Andhra Pradesh, blamed a spate of suicides in late 2010 on aggressive lending and collection tactics by lenders. To date, the kinds of problems experienced in India haven’t emerged in the U.S.