An inspiring life remembered

When you enter the newly dedicated Pava Marie LaPere Center for Entrepreneurship, you're greeted by a quote on Pava's plaque:

Sometimes the only qualification you have to build something is the fact that you are the one who's willing to build it.

That hard-earned insight came from a TEDx Talk Pava, A&S '19, gave during her senior year, titled "Forget About Your Life Plan," in the context of her starting a student-run startup incubator called the Hatchery. Just before she delivered that line, Pava alluded to her first for-profit venture that never quite made it off the ground. She had received a $10,000 grant her sophomore year, courtesy of the Ralph S. O'Connor Fund—the first funding opportunity Hopkins offered that was geared toward undergrad entrepreneurs—and ended up returning $9,500 of it to the university, winding down operations after buying only a dozen web domains.

Her perceived failure led to severe impostor syndrome. She remarked in her talk that she "had absolutely, utterly failed, and now it was my job to teach other students how to not do that."

I would argue that Pava didn't fail. Her startup? Absolutely, it failed to even launch for myriad reasons that Pava could (and would) tell you all about. But Pava the entrepreneur? She gained invaluable experience about how to take your lumps as an intrepid founder and grow from your inevitable mistakes. Pava succeeded because the primary goal of a university entrepreneurship center should not be to grow businesses but to cultivate entrepreneurs. It should foster the conditions to empower a student to take a leap of faith and should they fall, they're caught by the safety net of their diploma.

This is the role in which I first came to know the force known as Pava LaPere.

I joined the staff of FastForward U —Hopkins' first official entrepreneurship center—in fall 2017, right as it readied to launch. I feel compelled to add the caveat "official" because Pava undoubtedly built the first unofficial entrepreneurship center through her nonprofit TCO Labs (short for "The Crazy Ones," alluding to an iconic Steve Jobs quote) and programs like the Hatchery. Her tenacity in championing a hub for student entrepreneurs directly led to the creation of this physical space that now bears her name.

After graduation, Pava and Fast­Forward U joined forces. In fall 2019, we architected a two-track accelerator program—called Spark and Fuel—that was inspired by both the successes of the Hatchery and the educational gaps that existed within the O'Connor Fund structure. Throughout the past five years, hundreds of students spanning every school at Hopkins benefited from the foundational knowledge and funding derived from these programs. Whether they flew or fell, students were at least able to make the leap.

Pava had many natural gifts that equipped her to be a prolific entrepreneur. Perhaps the one that served her most was a proclivity toward taking action in the face of uncertainty.

In late March 2020, when most of the country was sitting on the couch eating ice cream and watching Tiger King—you know, doing our part—Pava sprang into action. She recruited me and a few others to stand up a scrappy initiative called Bmore Baskets, which supported Baltimore-based small businesses that were impacted by COVID-19-related closures by bundling local products into themed gift baskets. We generated over $10,000 in direct sales for the small business community that Pava loved during a critical time and helped highlight locally crafted goods (Pava's favorites included Mount Royal Soaps and Cajou Creamery).

Later that summer, just a couple of weeks after I had left my position at Hopkins, Pava FaceTimed me early one morning.

"Hey Kevin … you know I'm not crazy, right?" she asked me with a wry smile. We both knew that wasn't entirely true.

She asked me to pick her up so we could visit a building and meet friends she had just met the day before. She proceeded to take me to a converted parish hall in Baltimore's Upper Fell's Point neighborhood and pitched turning it into a co-living accelerator program to help entre­preneurs build community and companies during the pandemic. A few days later, we became co-founders of Emergence Baltimore. And less than two months from that pitch, we had entrepreneurs paying us to live and work in that space. I still have no idea how that happened other than simply "Pava."

On top of Bmore Baskets and Emergence Baltimore, Pava was building the company that turned out to be her life's work—EcoMap Technologies. I witnessed her pull multiple all-nighters each week during fall 2020 in order to keep up with the rapid growth. Pava's perseverance was unparalleled. There were intense sprints where she would type until she couldn't feel her fingers, then throw on a brace, take some ibuprofen, and keep typing until sunrise. This was how I learned that people in their 20s could actually develop arthritis.

But as much as Pava's entrepreneurial feats can be viewed as super­human, it's important to remember that she was so very human. Toward the end of 2020, she confided in me that she was at her breaking point trying to juggle all her ventures and couldn't do it all. We made the decision to wind down Bmore Baskets and not run another cohort of Emergence.

From then on, Pava dedicated much of her time to building EcoMap into the company it is today. She recruited me to be director of business development (a better title might have been director of a little bit of everything in the early days) and—again—we began to build together.

Now we're all tasked with moving forward in a world without Pava. Her loss has left an unfillable void, but Pava's legacy of action has left a permanent impression on all who knew her. Pava was the paragon of the Woman in the Arena, setting an example for student (and all) entrepreneurs simply by continuing to build her own ventures day in, day out.

So, when Hopkins students walk into the Pava Center, whether it's next week or decades down the road, my hope is that they see that quote on her plaque, shake off whatever impostor syndrome they might be feeling, and just start building. I can think of no greater way to honor Pava's legacy.