Aim for the eye.Shoot for the soul.

On set, Garrison Forest School

I'm from Baltimore.
That matters.

I went to work in a Baltimore newsroom and watched local news do what local news does. Flatten a city into its worst moments, mine included. When Freddie Gray was killed in police custody and Baltimore rose up, I watched the coverage and could not sit with it anymore. As a Black woman in that building, the gap between what I knew and what was being shown on television was too wide.

If Walls Could Talk followed the artists of the Sandtown mural project, people making beauty out of grief, offering something back to a community in pain. That film opened every door I have walked through since. And it taught me exactly who I am as a storyteller: I look for the light inside the hard ones.

That conviction is connected to my faith and a philosophy I have carried since early in my career. Aim for the eye, shoot for the soul. I have always looked for the good in every story I have been trusted to tell. Even the brutal ones. Especially those. Every story I make is also an act of documentation. A record. An insistence that Black life and experience deserve to be preserved with the same care and intention I bring to every frame.

This is also a completely normal day.

Everywhere
the story was.

After the documentary, I spent years going toward whatever story needed telling. Freelancing across every format, A&E, CNN, Investigation Discovery, TIME, HBO, PBS, Under Armour, music videos, narrative film sets. I was figuring out my voice and sharpening my skills in every room I could get into.

I move through the world as someone who has always lived at the intersection of representation, art, sports, and politics. A former hooper. A lifelong fan. Equally at home at a basketball game and a Senate hearing room. All of it feeds the work.

I was also quietly working sports broadcast the whole time, running instant replay and technical directing for college and pro games across the Mid-Atlantic. Still do. It never felt like work. It felt like getting paid to watch the game, which is the actual dream.

Throughout all of it, my approach stayed the same. Doesn't matter if the subject is drug addiction or a Senate race. I am always looking for the person underneath the circumstance. The thing that makes someone real on screen instead of just present.

Fenway Park, NAACP Boston. Somewhere between heaven and a work day.

United Way of Central Maryland, 2024.

Still here.
Still finding the light.

In 2021 I co-founded Fearless Video Productions. In 2024 I became its sole owner and sole leader. I built a company from the ground up, scaled it past a million dollars in revenue, managed over 150 collaborators, and ran every creative and business decision through the same lens I use on set. The full Fearless story lives at fearless.video.

I also have a documentary in development about my great-grandmother, Hilda Mason, the longest-serving elected official in Washington D.C. history and one of the most consequential progressive voices of the 20th century. That one is personal in every possible way and I cannot wait for the world to know her story.

Sports has always been in the background, and it is moving toward the foreground. I have spent my career working in mostly male-dominated rooms. I have always known what it costs to show up and be underestimated. Watching women's sports finally get their moment, I feel something I can only describe as coming home. I am ready to bring my full self to that story.

I am still the same person who got mad and made something true. Still looking for the eye. Still shooting for the soul. Just with better gear and a little more gray in my hair.