Pathways Voices: Episode 10

Maddie Albanese and DeeSoul Carson:

From the Center for Faculty Advancement at New York University.

Group:

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

DeeSoul Carson:

I’m DeeSoul Carson.

Maddie Albanese:

I’m Maddie Albanese.

DeeSoul Carson:

Faculty development is at the core of what we do.

Maddie Albanese:

Our programs are devoted to faculty support and development.

DeeSoul Carson:

From recruitment to career advancement…

Maddie Albanese and DeeSoul Carson:

… throughout the faculty life cycle.

Maddie Albanese:

We are also creating pathways for a younger generation of academic scholars, researchers…

Maddie Albanese and DeeSoul Carson:

… and future professionals.

DeeSoul Carson:

Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Maddie Albanese:

There are only beginnings.

DeeSoul Carson:

How do you get there?

Maddie Albanese:

Who paved your way? Your path?

DeeSoul Carson:

How did you get here?

Maddie Albanese:

Who brought you along and held your hands?

DeeSoul Carson:

How do you get anywhere?

Maddie Albanese:

Whose shoulders are you standing on today?

DeeSoul Carson:

Who paved your way? Whose shoulders are you standing on? Who brought you along and held your hand?

Maddie Albanese:

Are we there yet? How do you get there? How do you get there?

DeeSoul Carson:

How do you get there?

Maddie Albanese:

How do you get there?

Maddie Albanese and DeeSoul Carson:

There are only beginnings.

Alrick Brown:

When you’re in film, one of the magical things is you’re always learning. You’re always growing. Every project you have to dive into a new world, a new experience. No matter because your characters change. The stories change, and the cities change. Directing is research, like research is a huge part of what storytelling is when you’re trying to make a film.

You know, a lot of my colleagues were older when they got their jobs, they’re at the end of their careers. I’m at the beginning of my film career and I’m in a classroom and trying to find the time and the space and the right proportions to balance out that thing. So, the first thing I did was, I went to senior faculty, was like, how do you do it?

How do you write? When do you write? How do you manage your career? Trying to get a sense of how they can bring these together. You need that guidance. You know, you don’t have to do it alone. There’s people who went through the journey already.

My name is Alrick Brown. I’m an assistant professor.

This has been a long road. I was born in Jamaica, immigrant family. And so, the fact that, you know, my father was killed when I was a kid in Jamaica. My mother migrated here and brought us all here. And the fact that, you know, that’s our origin story and now I’m a professor at NYU, that is I mean, that’s many roads traveled.

I grew up in Jersey. I interacted with a few teachers who introduced me to writing and storytelling. And I think that was the spark that kind of changed my journey. I went to Rutgers University and studied English and got a master’s degree in education, and then I went into the Peace Corps, where I lived in West Africa for two years and three months as an education volunteer.

And it was while I was in the Peace Corps contemplating my life and what I would do next. And I thought about like, there’s one thing that I did, and I was I had to die in the process and filmmaking was it.

I moved to a rough neighborhood in Jersey when I migrated in the eighties anyway, the height of the crack epidemic.

And walking home was scary sometimes. So I would run home to watch television—Transformers and G.I. Joe. And I found myself being immersed in the world of storytelling. And so, film and television saved my life. And also writing. So when I was in the Peace Corps in West Africa, and I was thinking about life and what I would do next.

I thought, What about filmmaking? And I actually applied to NYU’s graduate film program from West Africa. And I got in, to my surprise and I came back to the United States and I started making films. I never touched a camera really before. I had no experience, and I’ve been making movies ever since.

As soon after I graduated, my first feature went to Sundance, and we won that clout and that recognition was important. And I was a freelance filmmaker for a while, and I taught as an adjunct. I did teaching workshops all over the world, and then an opening came up at NYU for a full-time faculty. And I thought, at the time I was teaching at three different schools as a part-time. I was like if I can teach at three schools part-time and make films, I could probably teach at one school and make films. So, I applied and I got the job, and now here I am.

I don’t know if film and storytelling didn’t exist, I don’t know where I’d be. Losing my father at such a young age. I had no direct father figures in that regard. So, I thought, I feel like I sought them out anywhere. In women and men, people who I know who could train me, teach me. I just sucked that knowledge from elders. Like every time I met someone who had something to pass on. And so, the mentorship train was huge. Starting with my teachers in high school, with this old guy in my neighborhood who ran his own garage. I would go sit with him after school and he would just kick knowledge about life and growing up and how to navigate and how to manage money and stuff like things like that.

And then when I you know, when I was in the Peace Corps, there’s always some African who was teaching me about this, that or the other. I mean, I guess I think because I’m a constant learner, there were always teachers and I equate those to my mentors. When I got to NYU as a student, there were professors, Mick Cosell and John Turturro, who took a special interest in making sure that my journey was okay.

Took a special interest in making sure that the Black students were having a decent experience because I was one of two Black students who came into that class. There was in having those people that just cared a little bit, you know, and then after I graduated from school, I connected with Melvin Van Peebles and he became my post-grad film, real-world, real-life teacher, about the film industry and the other aspects and things to think about. And I was grateful to spend many years with him before he passed and learned from him as well.

I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for my teachers, not in my neighborhood. I wouldn’t. I didn’t get into film school because I knew how to make films. I knew how to. I got in film school because I knew how to write and tell stories. That’s a direct result of my teachers and the grad program at NYU saying, We don’t care if you have film experience, we care if you have stories to tell. I didn’t get introduced to the Peace Corps. It’s all these things without education. It was like education literally saved my life and then I saved my own life by using that education and writing and telling stories.

And now, because I realize how important it is, I know that it’s the factor. It’s the X factor. It is the rich uncle I did not have. It is the rich family member or the connection in the business I did not have. Now when I teach film, I’m keenly aware that every moment in my classroom is a moment that could possibly transform your life as well in the future if it was able to transform my life.

Look, I mean, Goonies, Karate Kid, anything Bruce Lee. I mean, I didn’t grow up on classics. I didn’t grow up on Fellini and Ozu and Kurozawa like, I grew up, you know, watching a Saturday afternoon Kung Fu Theater. That’s in the eighties. And I walked away from the television and like every other kid, pretended. I remember watching the original, like, Wonder Woman series and I would take foil paper and wrap it around my wrist and I could, you know, and now I’m Wonder Woman.

Like, I would always play those roles. So it was my escape and it was a wonderful escape. And so, you know, my mother, she worked, you know, many, many hours, many jobs, immigrant family, everybody’s coming and going. So the TV became my friend. It was the storytelling. Like, I remember one day the kids were talking about some aspect of some show, maybe it was Transformers. And I remember saying something, talking about antagonists and protagonists in the context of Transformers and of the kids looking at me like what. I was taking what I had learned in English class and applying it to what I had seen in the children’s cartoon. And already the kids saw me differently because I could see that there was a deeper story going on than just the laser fire and the gunfire going off.

Like, paper is more patient than people are. Anne Frank wrote that in her diary. And it’s like you sit down and you just write. Like it’s a saving grace. It’s like one thing you can have some control over. Like things not working out right, things are working out right, things are not going your way. Just find some solace in that because writing is hopeful. Something wasn’t there, and now you’re bringing it into being. Synthesizing stories is what, I mean that’s the alchemy of storytelling. That’s my strength. Somehow, I could see things in stories, in watching people in life and bring things together and taking things from one class, applying it to The Goonies or applying it to this and being able to express it to someone else and have them see what I see. And it’s funny, like if I don’t know if film and storytelling didn’t exist, I don’t know where I’d be.

Maddie Albanese:

Are we there yet?

DeeSoul Carson:

We’ll see you next time.