I’m honored to share that a piece I wrote about the Jagriti Yatra has been published by YourStory, a very popular Indian online magazine that promotes entrepreneurship.
Category Archives: February
Minerva Fellowship Part II
You can’t stop time. No matter what you do, it’s always there—hidden and forgotten—rarely noticed in day-to-day life. This isn’t about minutes or alarm clocks, appointments or curfews. It’s about the constantly flowing time, inescapable and ineluctable, a nonlinear reality that you embrace or refute. And in the end, it’s up to you.
My time in India has been precious and delicate, while also neglected and insignificant. The Minerva Fellowship program has a progressive and laudable approach: freedom, trust, and independence. There are no check-ins, progress reports, or evaluation sheets. I was sent on a flight to India with a handshake and “be safe, we’ll see you in nine months.” And, with those parting words, for the first moment in my life, my time became my largest adversary, and biggest tool for productivity.
I’ll never forget when Professor Hal Fried, one of the great minds behind the fellowship program, was discussing some past fellows’ experiences abroad. Many have done great things. Others, while certainly enjoyed incredible experiences, struggled with what to do much with their time. In Hal’s words, “x person basically lived in a tree for nine months.” The point Hal was trying to make, that I now understand, was that you’re on your own: completely, utterly, alone.
I have no supervisor, no boss, no daily responsibilities and no professors. There’s nothing stopping me from living in a tree, becoming a spiritual Guru, or starting my own orphanage. I can do whatever I want, when I want, and how I want. It’s a recipe for the most beautiful of disasters, for unrealized creativity—even boredom.
I didn’t realize the magnitude of this freedom until about halfway through my fellowship. I’ve always been a creature of discipline. When I left Union last spring, I had a clear set of goals, outlining what I was going to achieve and how I would do it. I had a list of people I was supposed to meet and where I could meet them.
I’d noted how much time I should be working, how much time I should spend in Bagru, how much time I should travel, and how much time I should spend reading, learning Hindi, and blogging. I had lists on lists, still saved on my computer to this very day. At times during the first few months I scanned over these lists. Have I met x person yet? Have I achieved x goal? Have spent enough time on x project? In the end, none of it mattered. I’m the only judge of how I spend my time; I’m a tough critic.
I sincerely think part of this habit to self-review stems from my education. For my entire life I’ve been judged, assessed, and graded on different sets of criteria. GPA’s, resumes, transcripts and feedback forms were once everyday realities – now, they’re distant memories. If you think anyone in India has asked me about my internship experiences or subject of my thesis, you’d be a fool.
I came to a point a few months ago when I asked myself the most difficult question:
What am I doing?
I wasn’t reflecting on the absurdity of my life here; I wasn’t thinking about the cultural differences, the food, the spirituality, or the stares I get eating lunch every day. I’ve moved past all that, accepting myself as an American-Indian HinJew.
Instead, it was a question about how I’ve been spending my time. In a recent conversation with my fellow Fellow in Uganda, Joe Hinderstein, he said, “I can wake up everyday and teach children English, sexual education or geography because I’m ‘supposed’ to. But, is that how I really want to spend my time?” There’s no right answer to that question. If Joe goes on a run or takes a nap instead of teaching English, that’s okay. He’s trying the best he can, looking at the big picture. And Joe’s right: we can’t only focus on the “now,” but rather look at the if, then, and how.
Most people advise me to “live in the moment.” While the cliché has its merits, at some point we have to look at time thought alternative lenses. What has the past taught us, what do I want in my future, and how am I using the present to get there? Time is layered; we can’t always ‘be’ in the moment, so let’s use it instead. Let’s think about it. Let’s build another step, ascending the ladder to the future.
I want to come home after this fellowship knowing that I spent my time wisely. That I had a balance of joy, hurt, comfort, and pain. When it comes the Minerva fellowship, there are three groups that my time belongs to:
- Union College. (as a representative of the college, I am responsible to spend my time in accordance with the fellowship values).
- ‘Selfless’ time: spending your time for others’ benefit.
- ‘Personal’ time. Using my time to grow and learn, as well as travel and for my own leisure.
When I broke down these categories, I asked myself difficult questions about how I was spending my time, whom it was benefiting, and how I wanted to spend the remainder of my fellowship. These questions eventually opened the door to a whirlwind experience: My Minerva Fellowship, Part II: Studio Bagru.
A few months ago Jeremy Fritzhand came to Bagru. Jeremy had left his job at a large textile sourcing company in Sri Lanka, and wanted to get back involved with Bagru Textiles. When he came back, he was amazed at how much the company had grown during the three years of his absence. We had international clients visiting every day; we were fulfilling large quantity orders, receiving an unprecedented amount of inquiries, phone-calls, and press requests. In short, the business was booming, and it was wonderful to see.
Jeremy and I started to reflect on time.
We thought about what he came to Bagru in 2010 to accomplish, why he did it, and how far things had come. We looked around us; our neighbor Chandraprakash was completing his third addition to his home since 2010, all paid for by the success of Bagru Textiles. Six years ago his house was one room. Now, he had two-stories: three bedrooms, a bathroom, washing machine, and printing workshop. The rapid development was tangible – it wasn’t even a hoax. We saw that people’s lives had truly benefited from the creation, growth, and success of Bagru Textiles.
When I received the fellowship one year ago, I was told I would be the last Minerva Fellow in Bagru. Since the program is build on the notion of sustainability, Union’s role at Bagru Textiles was never meant to be permanent.
Jeremy and I thought about the Minvera Fellows Mantra, which states:
When the work is done,
the task accomplished,
the people will say
‘We have done this ourselves.’
We have done this ourselves. Six years have passed since Jeremy arrived in Bagru. The progress of the company is praiseworthy, and the five Minerva Fellows before me played a large role in that. But, at the end of the day, nobody from Union can claim the growth belongs to them. Bagru Textiles was never Jeremy’s company, nor was it Union’s, or mine for that matter. We realized the time had come for us to depart, that the company was prepared to function without us.
One of the biggest challenges of development work is taking a hands-off approach. At some point, there is a sink-or-swim moment. You can’t hold on forever. You can’t keep a bird in a cage forever – at some point it has to fly on its own.
I was sent to India with the mission to “pass the torch” – to give the business back to “the people” in Bagru, and to ensure that the company was ready to function on its own. I am proud to say that day has come. Bagru Textiles is now running without Union’s involvement. Mission accomplished.
Once again, Jeremy and I thought about time. Jeremy spent nearly three years living in Bagru, and has now accrued a total of six years experience in the textile industry. More importantly, he felt at home in India. Together, we made a good team, and brainstormed how to continue the dream Jeremy had in 2010: export block printed textiles from Bagru with a non-exploitive approach. So, we did what all good entrepreneurs do: took a leap of faith.
We started a new company called Studio Bagru. For both Jeremy and I, Bagru holds a special place in our hearts. We have fallen in love with the people, the art of hand-block printing, the sounds, smells, and warmth. We realize that, like many Indian sub-urban villages, Bagru is at a critical point in development. I estimate in ten short years, the “Bagru” that exists now will be flooded with tourists, large factories, and hotels.
Jeremy and I want to be a part of this development, but have a conscious strategy to it. I don’t want to use the word “help” here – that implies that artisans in Bagru are in need of help—which they aren’t. Bagru is a capable and thriving community. Instead, we want to grow the hand-block printing industry and ensure that the art does not die. We want to grow the Indian textile market. We want people, around the world, to know where their products come from. We want to continue the vision Jeremy originally had, and build a global enterprise, connecting Indian products to consumers around the world.
We are currently in the process of furnishing our office in central Jaipur – about 40 minutes from Bagru village. Both Jeremy and I live above the office in Jaipur. We are aiming for an opening date of April 1st, and I’m looking forward to sharing pictures with you. In our amazing office space, we plan on having a beautiful textile showroom, a conference/design room, and an administrative office as well.
Studio Bagru will have varying service offerings, ranging from custom-made hand-block prints, sourcing strategies, and consulting services for foreigners who want to do business in Indian textiles. As the business gets off the ground, I’ll be sharing more about our products and content.
Jeremy and I have added two Union grads to our team, Curt Myers ’15 and Mike Williamson ’14, to complete our young, passionate, and motivated cohort. Last week my three partners were in the U.S. doing some sample sales and meeting with potential buyers.
As for me, I’m finding my life in Jaipur challenging and busy. Starting a business is no easy task, especially in a foreign country with a slow-moving bureaucracy. Everything is new, from incorporating the company and opening bank accounts, obtaining an export license, to designing our office and simply choosing where to place light bulbs. And of course, nailing down our business plan, social model, and investment strategies. Looking forward to sharing more about the business with you soon, so stay tuned.
The best journeys answer questions, that in the beginning, you didn’t even think to ask.
–180 Degrees South
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. Dare to be more than average.