decks/ beside it — stylesheets, fonts and
photos are all separate files here. The single-file version, with everything embedded,
is decks/dist/jeremy-fritzhand-story.html; rebuild it with
node decks/build.mjs.
“Go to the people. Live with them. Learn from them. Start with what they know. Build with what they have. But with the best leaders, when the work is done, the people will say ‘We have done this ourselves.’” — Lao Tzu
Organisations have vision statements. Why shouldn't people? It doesn't have to hold for a year — it's fluid, and it changes as your life does. I ask my students to write one.
Written at the urging of Professor Kevin D. Frick, PhD — Johns Hopkins University. It settles the question of what I am: an enabler. At this stage of my career the job is to share knowledge and put other people in a position to build.
After AI, storytelling is the most indispensable skill there is. How you set the scene, who you say you serve, who you say you impact — that is what earns trust and buy-in, and it is what separates you from everyone who can do the same work but can't say why it matters.
Both my parents are entrepreneurs. So are their parents. The first job came at four years old, and each one after it taught something the next one needed.
JZN Goat Farm — J for Jeremy, Z for Zachary, N for Nicholas. Started with my mom, Gayla, in 2008: 138 acres in Adams County, Ohio, producing artisan goat cheese and meat. She held the only title that mattered — Chief Goat Officer — and I helped manage the entire property.
Stock photograph (Wikimedia Commons) — swap for a real JZN farm photo.
Wyoming Paranoia. A game we played in high school, run end to end from a free Angelfire page — rules, round-by-round brackets, entries to a Gmail address. My first interaction with a web interface, and it was a lot of fun.
House rules, verbatim: “Remember you are playing this game at your own risk!!!” and “I will not be accepting calls past 9:00 pm. After that time please send me an email.”
The t-shirt money paid for the DJ equipment. None of it was really about making money — it was about making friends and getting to know people. That was the whole point.
Hospice in America meant sitting with someone at the end of their life. Hospice in South Africa was mostly HIV/AIDS patients, and it meant going out into the field to deliver food and medicine.
The first was in 2000 — twelve years old, backpacking Karnataka with my parents and two brothers, Hampi and Bijapur, and I remember it vividly. I went back in my final year of college with an anthropology and economics professor who ran the social entrepreneurship programme. One day, travelling through Rajasthan, we stopped in a village called Bagru.
Union College offers graduates $10,000 to move abroad and build some kind of hybrid business model. I applied to go and live there, work with the people, and share what I knew. I was awarded the grant. The other Minerva Fellows scattered across the world; I went to India.
The printers had the skill and the four-hundred-year method. What they didn't have was the market. Fabric and designs arrived from a trader; the family processed, printed and finished it; and it went back out — paid by the metre.
Seventy years of India opening up to trade had put a chain of people between the artisan and the buyer, each capitalising on skills of marketing and language the printers were never given.
| Artisan | Prints and finishes the cloth · ₹7 per metre |
| Trader | Every step adds margin, and language, and distance — until the person who made the cloth is the one nobody can name. |
| Wholesaler | |
| Exporter | |
| Importer | |
| Agent | |
| Fashion designer | |
| Retailer | |
| Consumer | Pays, and never learns the source |
Cut out the middleman, and hand digital marketing and commerce straight to the home-based artisans so they could find their own markets. Then name the company after the place and what they do — the single best thing we could have done for Bagru.
“Bagru Textiles: Know Your Source”, by Andrew McLain — vimeo.com/92201560
Messages out to my network, to publishers, to journalists — then get them to the village to see the history for themselves.
A $50,000 endowment to the college meant the grant kept sending fellows to Bagru after I left. I went back to the US for the MBA — and it was a second India, because most of the cohort were Indian and I got on with them immediately.
Hong Kong, China, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh. Supply-chain management and optimisation for a company moving billions of dollars of US retail — Victoria's Secret, Abercrombie, Express. I learned an enormous amount. It was also the years the industry was forced to answer for itself.
Founder and CEO. Kept telling the story, kept making product, shipped to over 50 countries — B2B the whole way, to hotels and fashion brands.
nuno stories, “バグルー(インド)のブロックプリント” — youtube.com/watch?v=CR1gog3uRUk
Cushions, quilts, robes, totes, tablecloths, shirting — made with designers and houses abroad, printed by the same families in the same village.
Covid hit. My fiancée — she's from Assam — said: why don't we go and do a yoga teacher training. So as soon as flights resumed we went down to Mysore and did one.
Her parents wanted to invite two thousand people. Covid restrictions capped it at six hundred, which still didn't entirely make sense to me — I'm fairly sure it was a super-spreader event, just before the second wave.
Back to Ohio and into supply chain again, at a big textile company — bath, bed, incontinence care, laundry and cleaning supplies, engineered for durability and sold to hospitals and hotels. A way to settle back into the US.
Hamilton County's development platform, run as one family of organisations rather than four separate programmes. I led the startups.
Top-10 incubator ranking by UBI Global.
A founder doesn't need one more programme. They need a person who can reach whichever of six things is currently the constraint — and reach it this week.
Catalysts sit at the centre. Everything else is what they can pull on.
Hours in the room with the founder, not a curriculum.
Peers who hit the same wall eighteen months ago.
An address, desks, and a door that opens early.
The people who pick up when you call.
Introductions to money that fits the stage.
First revenue, not just the first meeting.
Coaching only works if it meets a company where it actually is. This was the shared language: six phases, each with its own validation gate, so everyone in the room agreed on the stage before arguing about the advice.
Not the programme's numbers — the founders'. Capital they raised, revenue they booked, hours I logged in the room with them.
The virtual mentoring programme I ran — morningmentoring.com
“A marketplace for commercial capital, economic development, and startup growth — connecting communities and empowering innovation.” Member spaces, a library, events, direct messages: the room, on the days there is no room.
“Join PeaceRise in driving global peace through innovation — discover our community, challenges, and events.”
Third continent, second country, same job description. Move the family, find the school run, start again on day one.
Three facilities, a team of ten, and a range of funding programmes — on track to disburse about ₹5 crore this year to students, faculty and entrepreneurs getting off the ground.
Coworking, classrooms and an amphitheatre.
A DST-funded fabrication lab — machining, electronics and 3D printing.
A BIRAC-supported lab for biotech and the life sciences.
Coworking space · Prayas Shala · Bio-NEST
I had never used GitHub before early 2025. One year later: 189 public repositories — built in the margins of a full-time CEO job, with an infant at home. No engineering degree. Just a decision to start, and a refusal to stop.
Plus AIDev — an open course teaching non-technical people to build websites with AI.
After two years leading VentureStudio, I'm stepping away and relocating back to the USA with my family. Raghuveer Kovuru takes over as CEO on September 1 — sixteen years of ecosystem building, three years directing innovation at T-Hub, and the studio is in strong hands. Next chapter: VP of Platform at Embarc Collective, Tampa's innovation hub.
Fifteen years and a lot of startups. What I actually love is the same every time: meeting people, understanding the challenge, understanding the strength — and then going at the opportunity.