I am a screenwriter and director fascinated with how oppression shapes how we live, love, and who we allow ourselves to become. Honestly though, I think I’m still the same kid I was all those years ago—growing up the son of a criminal and a college professor. Seeing two paths before me, one the all but embodiment of black excellence and the other an all too familiar stereotype. All the while, the world around me seemed to chant for me to follow in the footsteps of the latter. All the while, I saw the struggle that came even with following in the footsteps of the former. As I got older, that struggle began to affect how much I allowed myself to love. Who I allowed myself to become. And it was then I realized, if we all struggle to find love and to know who we are, these stories of oppression are, in many ways, universal.

As a kid I always used humor to cope, even when I felt haunted by the ever present spirit of oppression wanting so desperately to see me fail. And, in truth, I think I make movies for that same kid. A kid trapped between what he knows he could be and what the system of oppression at play in his life says he ought to be. Whether comedies that revel in the joy of love, especially for people that look like me; horror films where the unlikely hero overcomes the evil force he is haunted by; or documentaries that shine a light on the otherwise untold experiences of minority groups, I’ve alway strived to give a voice those in the margins. My documentary film debut BLACK LENS, an examination of black student’s experiences at PWIs, premiered at the San Francisco Social and Economic Justice Film Festival in 2021.