RADIO

Imran Is Stateless

BBC World Service + Sundance Institute: Detours Series

Role: co-producer (with Michael Green), sound designer, composer | Year: 2019

Imran fled violence in Myanmar – now he is in detention in Papua New Guinea, with no papers and no idea what will happen to him.


PODCASTS

School Colors

co-production by Brooklyn Deep and the NYU Metropolitan Center for Research on Equity and the Transformation of Schools

Role: Editor, Sound Designer | 8 Episodes: Release 10.2019

School Colors is a documentary podcast series about race, class, and power in American cities - told through the story of one public school district in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. Produced and hosted by Mark Winston Griffith and Max Freedman.

TRAILER

EP 1: OLD SCHOOL

EP 2: POWER TO THE PEOPLE

EP 3: THIRD STRIKE

EP 4: AGITATE! EDUCATE! ORGANIZE!

Bedford-Stuyvesant is one of the most iconic historically Black neighborhoods in the United States. Community School District 16 covers about half of Bed-Stuy. And almost every school in District 16 is hemorrhaging kids.  Something is wrong.

Bedford-Stuyvesant is one of the most iconic historically Black neighborhoods in the United States. Community School District 16 covers about half of Bed-Stuy. And almost every school in District 16 is hemorrhaging kids.

Something is wrong.

Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn is one of the most iconic historically Black neighborhoods in the United States. But Bed-Stuy is changing. Fifty years ago, schools in Bed-Stuy's District 16 were so overcrowded that students went to school in shifts. Today, they're half-empty. Why?  In trying to answer that question, we discovered that the biggest, oldest questions we have as a country about race, class, and power have been tested in the schools of Central Brooklyn for as long as there have been Black children here. And that's a long, long time.  In this episode, we visit the site of a free Black settlement in Brooklyn founded in 1838; speak to one of the first Black principals in New York City; and find out why half a million students mobilized in support of school integration couldn’t force the Board of Education to produce a citywide plan.

Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn is one of the most iconic historically Black neighborhoods in the United States. But Bed-Stuy is changing. Fifty years ago, schools in Bed-Stuy's District 16 were so overcrowded that students went to school in shifts. Today, they're half-empty. Why?

In trying to answer that question, we discovered that the biggest, oldest questions we have as a country about race, class, and power have been tested in the schools of Central Brooklyn for as long as there have been Black children here. And that's a long, long time.

In this episode, we visit the site of a free Black settlement in Brooklyn founded in 1838; speak to one of the first Black principals in New York City; and find out why half a million students mobilized in support of school integration couldn’t force the Board of Education to produce a citywide plan.

In the late 1960s, the Central Brooklyn neighborhood of Ocean Hill-Brownsville was at the center of a bold experiment in community control of public schools. But as Black and Puerto Rican parents in Ocean Hill-Brownsville tried to exercise power over their schools, they collided headfirst with the teachers’ union — leading to the longest teachers’ strike in American history, 51 years ago this fall.  What started as a local pilot project turned into one of the most divisive racial confrontations ever witnessed in New York City. Ocean Hill-Brownsville made the national news for months, shattered political coalitions and created new ones, and fundamentally shaped the city we live in today.  But as the strike shut down schools citywide, Ocean Hill-Brownsville mobilized to keep their schools open — and prove to the world that Black people could educate their own children and run their own institutions successfully. In the process, they inspired a particular brand of defiant, independent, and intensely proud Black activism that would define political life in Central Brooklyn for generations.

In the late 1960s, the Central Brooklyn neighborhood of Ocean Hill-Brownsville was at the center of a bold experiment in community control of public schools. But as Black and Puerto Rican parents in Ocean Hill-Brownsville tried to exercise power over their schools, they collided headfirst with the teachers’ union — leading to the longest teachers’ strike in American history, 51 years ago this fall.

What started as a local pilot project turned into one of the most divisive racial confrontations ever witnessed in New York City. Ocean Hill-Brownsville made the national news for months, shattered political coalitions and created new ones, and fundamentally shaped the city we live in today.

But as the strike shut down schools citywide, Ocean Hill-Brownsville mobilized to keep their schools open — and prove to the world that Black people could educate their own children and run their own institutions successfully. In the process, they inspired a particular brand of defiant, independent, and intensely proud Black activism that would define political life in Central Brooklyn for generations.

In the fall of 1968, New York City teachers went on strike three times, in reaction to an experiment in community control of schools in Ocean Hill-Brownsville, Brooklyn. The third strike was the longest, and the ugliest.  The movement for community control tapped into a powerful desire among Black and brown people across New York City to educate their own. But the backlash was ferocious. The confrontation at Ocean Hill-Brownsville fractured the connection between teachers and families, between the labor movement and the civil rights movement, between Black and Jewish New Yorkers. Some of these wounds have never really healed.  But as the strike dragged on for seven weeks, schools in Ocean Hill-Brownsville were open for business. And for many students there, the experience was life-changing.

In the fall of 1968, New York City teachers went on strike three times, in reaction to an experiment in community control of schools in Ocean Hill-Brownsville, Brooklyn. The third strike was the longest, and the ugliest.

The movement for community control tapped into a powerful desire among Black and brown people across New York City to educate their own. But the backlash was ferocious. The confrontation at Ocean Hill-Brownsville fractured the connection between teachers and families, between the labor movement and the civil rights movement, between Black and Jewish New Yorkers. Some of these wounds have never really healed.

But as the strike dragged on for seven weeks, schools in Ocean Hill-Brownsville were open for business. And for many students there, the experience was life-changing.

In the wake of the 1968 teachers’ strikes, Black people in Central Brooklyn continued to fight for self-determination in education -- both inside and outside of the public school system.  Some veterans of the community control movement started an independent school called Uhuru Sasa Shule, or "Freedom Now School," part of a pan-African cultural center called The East. Other Black educators tried to work within the new system of local school boards, despite serious flaws baked into the design.  Both of these experiments in self-government struggled to thrive in a city that was literally crumbling all around them. But they have left a lasting mark on this community.

In the wake of the 1968 teachers’ strikes, Black people in Central Brooklyn continued to fight for self-determination in education -- both inside and outside of the public school system.

Some veterans of the community control movement started an independent school called Uhuru Sasa Shule, or "Freedom Now School," part of a pan-African cultural center called The East. Other Black educators tried to work within the new system of local school boards, despite serious flaws baked into the design.

Both of these experiments in self-government struggled to thrive in a city that was literally crumbling all around them. But they have left a lasting mark on this community.


Valparaiso University Law School Podcast Series

Hosted by WBEZ Reporter Natalie Moore

Role: Executive Producer | Year: 2014-2015

EPISODES:


RACIAL BIAS

IMMIGRATION

DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

OBAMACARE

Can You Be Fair? A conversation about the need for transparency and accountability concerning racial bias in the judicial system and in ourselves. Valparaiso University Law School Dean Andrea Lyon and Valparaiso students, Jennifer Lee and Mohammad Faraj, discuss the importance of acknowledging the reality of racial bias in the judicial system and how it impacts law and society.

Can You Be Fair? A conversation about the need for transparency and accountability concerning racial bias in the judicial system and in ourselves. Valparaiso University Law School Dean Andrea Lyon and Valparaiso students, Jennifer Lee and Mohammad Faraj, discuss the importance of acknowledging the reality of racial bias in the judicial system and how it impacts law and society.

Valparaiso University Law School Professor Geoffrey Heeren and Valparaiso 3L students Mayombo Mbanza and Jeremiah Pangan discuss President Obama’s Executive Actions on Immigration, their impact on citizens and undocumented immigrants, and the firestorm of controversy concerning the action.

Valparaiso University Law School Professor Geoffrey Heeren and Valparaiso 3L students Mayombo Mbanza and Jeremiah Pangan discuss President Obama’s Executive Actions on Immigration, their impact on citizens and undocumented immigrants, and the firestorm of controversy concerning the action.

Natalie Moore speaks with Valparaiso University Law Professor Geneva Brown and third-year law students, Jessica Sullivan and Andy Stuck, about how the social stigma of domestic violence adversely impacts the justice system’s ability to efficiently and effectively address the issue. The conversation also features commentary from President Obama and Vice President Biden, whose office drafted The Violence Against Women Act of 1994. The dialogue explores how the law can respond to social and cultural understandings of domestic violence, and asks what role lawyers have in shaping how domestic violence is framed, addressed, and ultimately prevented.

Natalie Moore speaks with Valparaiso University Law Professor Geneva Brown and third-year law students, Jessica Sullivan and Andy Stuck, about how the social stigma of domestic violence adversely impacts the justice system’s ability to efficiently and effectively address the issue. The conversation also features commentary from President Obama and Vice President Biden, whose office drafted The Violence Against Women Act of 1994. The dialogue explores how the law can respond to social and cultural understandings of domestic violence, and asks what role lawyers have in shaping how domestic violence is framed, addressed, and ultimately prevented.

Professor Wright discusses The Affordable Healthcare Act with 3L students, Gerardo Paredes and Connor Nolan, and how the politicalization of "Obamacare" elucidates Americans’ diverse perspectives on federal taxes, legacy, and The American Dream.

Professor Wright discusses The Affordable Healthcare Act with 3L students, Gerardo Paredes and Connor Nolan, and how the politicalization of "Obamacare" elucidates Americans’ diverse perspectives on federal taxes, legacy, and The American Dream.

The Theory of Everything

hosted by Roman Mars

Episode: Analog Time

Role: Assistant Interviewer, Contributing Research | Year: 2015 | Theme: Juvenile Lifers, Access to Music In Prison

Your host explores the transition from UFO to Drone on stage as part of Radiotopia Live! and pinpoints the date he crossed his own personal digital divide (Feb 21st 1997). Also filmmaker Alix Lambert tells us about a group of people who are still on Analog time.

99% Invisible

hosted by Roman Mars

Episode 214: Loud and Clear

Role: Contributing Research | Year: 2015 | Theme: use of cassette tapes in prisons

Sub Pop Records has signed some of the most famous and influential indie bands of the last 30 years, including Nirvana, Sleater-Kinney, The Postal Service, and Beach House. Over time, the stars and hits have changed and the formats have evolved as well, from vinyl to CDs to MP3s. In recent years, however, the label has started releasing new albums on a medium few thought would ever see a comeback: the cassette.
But there's one big user group that never entirely stopped using the old school technology. The United States prison system has the largest prison population in the world and many of its inmates listen to their music on tape. For this group, cassettes aren't necessarily the cheapest or hippest way to listen to music; in some cases, it's the only way.


Keeper One

Role: Editor + Sound Designer | Team: Written by Brontë Mansfield; Produced by: Brian Fabry Dorsam and Brontë Mansfield | Year: TBD

A belt buckle found in the ruins of Chicago in 2025 could be a teenage girl’s ticket off the planet–and onto one of the space colonies orbiting above. (Adventure)

In 1984, Chantelle Mansfield started writing a novel. She was 19 years old when she wrote the first pages of what would become an 800-page work of science fiction. She worked on it for 25 years.  The story takes the form of a journal, written by a teenage girl named Mary Elizabeth Quinn in the year 2025. Mary was five when the world ended, and raised in isolation by her mother at a cabin in Ontario. The story chronicles Mary’s attempt to get off the planet and onto the utopic space colonies circling the ruined Earth.  The journal is footnoted by a historian named Mansfield McKee who uncovered it at an archaeological dig hundreds of years in the future. McKee has a theory: that the first Keeper of History of the new age – who saved countless books and other pieces of history in caches around the North American continent in the years after the Destruction Time that ended the world – and scrappy, foul-mouthed Mary Quinn are one and the same. His theory is that this is the journal of Keeper One.  In 1993, Chantelle had her first child. Keeper One became the backdrop to her daughter Brontë Mansfield’s rural childhood: her house was filled with books about nuclear fallout and O’Neill Space Cylinders, she and her brother acted out fictional fight scenes for their mother to watch and describe, and family vacations to Space Camp and Mammoth Cave were quiet research trips for her mom’s book. Chantelle’s fictional world bled into reality. She braced for Y2K with stores of food and water, and a hand-pump for well water. Last Christmas, she gave her daughter a “bug out bag” stocked with rations, a portable water filtration system, foil blanket, and map with walking routes back from Chicago to Wisconsin. “Just in case,” she said.  Chantelle finished the book in the late 2000s, but it was never published. Now, a decade after Chantelle finished writing, Brontë is turning her mother’s work into an audio story. In addition to sharing the text of the unpublished novel, the podcast will explore the story of the novel's creation: the deeply personal story of a mother and daughter and the work of fiction that shaped their lives.

In 1984, Chantelle Mansfield started writing a novel. She was 19 years old when she wrote the first pages of what would become an 800-page work of science fiction. She worked on it for 25 years.

The story takes the form of a journal, written by a teenage girl named Mary Elizabeth Quinn in the year 2025. Mary was five when the world ended, and raised in isolation by her mother at a cabin in Ontario. The story chronicles Mary’s attempt to get off the planet and onto the utopic space colonies circling the ruined Earth.

The journal is footnoted by a historian named Mansfield McKee who uncovered it at an archaeological dig hundreds of years in the future. McKee has a theory: that the first Keeper of History of the new age – who saved countless books and other pieces of history in caches around the North American continent in the years after the Destruction Time that ended the world – and scrappy, foul-mouthed Mary Quinn are one and the same. His theory is that this is the journal of Keeper One.

In 1993, Chantelle had her first child. Keeper One became the backdrop to her daughter Brontë Mansfield’s rural childhood: her house was filled with books about nuclear fallout and O’Neill Space Cylinders, she and her brother acted out fictional fight scenes for their mother to watch and describe, and family vacations to Space Camp and Mammoth Cave were quiet research trips for her mom’s book. Chantelle’s fictional world bled into reality. She braced for Y2K with stores of food and water, and a hand-pump for well water. Last Christmas, she gave her daughter a “bug out bag” stocked with rations, a portable water filtration system, foil blanket, and map with walking routes back from Chicago to Wisconsin. “Just in case,” she said.

Chantelle finished the book in the late 2000s, but it was never published. Now, a decade after Chantelle finished writing, Brontë is turning her mother’s work into an audio story. In addition to sharing the text of the unpublished novel, the podcast will explore the story of the novel's creation: the deeply personal story of a mother and daughter and the work of fiction that shaped their lives.


EXPERIMENTAL / SOUND ART

Hope You See This

Role: Composer | Producers: Benjamin Stillerman + Rachel Winton; Editor: Lindsey Phillips

Hope You See This is about fleeting moments on the NYC subway that lead to Missed Connections posts on Craigslist.

Hope You See This  follows two characters, who seem to tell two sides of the same story, as they relive their brief but charged encounters on the train. It explores fantasies around chance-romance, how desire unfolds in public space, and the pursuit of a happy ending. Missed connections ultimately leave many of us fixated, hopeful, and grasping at potential futures.

Hope You See This follows two characters, who seem to tell two sides of the same story, as they relive their brief but charged encounters on the train. It explores fantasies around chance-romance, how desire unfolds in public space, and the pursuit of a happy ending. Missed connections ultimately leave many of us fixated, hopeful, and grasping at potential futures.