It should come as no surprise to you that Issa Rae is great at telling stories. After all, stories are why we all know and love the 40-year-old Los Angeles native who has gone on to build an empire out of relatability. Whether you were introduced to her via YouTube as the Awkward Black Girl or as Issa, the complicated, but steadfast friend trying to get her life together in the watershed HBO series, Insecure, or as President Barbie in the eponymous summer blockbuster, there’s a good chance a great story was at the root of the experience. Rae has spent her career working in the service of telling the stories that matter most to people who look, speak, and care like her.
“I think about friends and family. I think about black women and I think about, I think about myself, of course,” she told Boardroom when she sat down for her Cover Story interview at the Metro Cinema in New York City. “All of these projects are born out of a love of, whether it’s telling stories, whether it’s community — that is the core focus.”
That focus has helped Rae go from producing an indie web series with nothing but Kickstarter donations to starring in and producing hit shows and films. In addition to her role in Mattel’s billion-dollar tent pole, Rae has gotten busy behind the camera, as well. One of Them Days, a film directed by newcomer Lawrence Lamont and written by Syreeta Singleton, who worked on Insecure and Rap Shit, was produced by Rae’s independent production house, Hoorae Media, for just $14 million. Starring Keke Palmer and SZA in her feature film debut, Days went on to bank over $50 million at the box office. As Rae explains in our interview, that’s a hell of a feat for a comedy in 2025.
But that’s — pardon the pun — the story of Issa’s career and journey: A series of feats that have not only propelled her to ever greater heights but also opened doors for those looking up at her in awe. We won’t spoil it, but during Boardroom’s time with her, she shares a funny tale about a college tour she arranged with a creative partner that turned out to be financially myopic and how a teacher helped her to better understand the worth of her time and art. It’s a lesson that she says has stayed with her and has helped inform the decisions she makes today.
For our September Cover Story, we tapped another great storyteller, in journalist and Amazon Prime’s Thursday Night Football host Taylor Rooks to sit down with Issa for a touching conversation that spans creative processes, inspiration, how to value one’s self and one’s work, and — because we had to ask — whether or not we’ll ever get an Insecure movie.
This interview has been edited for length & clarity.
Want More from Boardroom? Get Our Newsletter
TAYLOR ROOKS: Hello there. If you cannot tell from the huge smile on my face, I am incredibly excited about today’s Boardroom Cover Story. We have producer, director, actress, author, comedian, philanthropist, and community advocate Issa Rae, whose media empire spans far and wide. We have Hoorae Media, music label Radeio, and ColorCreative management company. And her portfolio also includes Viarae Prosecco line, Sienna Naturals haircare brand, Hilltop Coffee Shop, and a stake in the U.S. SailGP team. So many things, I’m out of breath, girl. You are working. I honestly first want to know: how does it feel to hear all of the things that you have going on?
ISSA RAE: I get so overwhelmed. I’m hearing you list it, and I’m like, “Oh, that too. That too. And there’s still stuff.” But I love it. I love what I do, so I can’t be mad.
Well, one of the things I love about it is that all of your ventures feel like a true extension of you. You have created this Issa Rae universe. So I’m curious, what is the base vision that guides all the decisions that you make?
The base vision is honestly rooted in the audience that I’m thinking about. I think about friends and family. I think about Black women, and I think about myself, of course. When you’re talking about the natural extension, all of these projects are born out of a love — whether it’s storytelling, telling stories, whether it’s community — that is the core focus.
There’s also something really beautiful about creating the things that you feel like should exist, and that feels like that’s been your entire story.
Yes, it is. I love the way that you put it. So much of the start of my career was based off of: Why isn’t this here? I miss this — whether I missed this, this used to exist, why doesn’t it exist anymore? Or this has never existed—can I make it exist? That is a huge part of it. And now knowing, “Oh, I can make this exist,” feels powerful in a way.
I also feel — correct me if I’m wrong — but it feels like you chase a feeling more than you chase a project.
I do. I’m very driven by my feelings, my gut, and yeah, how something makes me feel in responding to a project. One of my collaborators sent me something the other day. I was just like, “It doesn’t move me. It is dope conceptually, but it doesn’t excite me. I don’t feel anything.” And even judging—we had to judge some films yesterday, and that was so much fun. And who are we to judge art? But all these filmmakers presented their shorts, and that was one of the things at the end: what am I leaving with? Did I leave feeling different than I came in feeling? That’s such an important thing for me.
You touched on it a little bit, but can you sort of describe that feeling you get when you know it’s right or when it’s in line?
It’s a giddiness. It’s an excitement. It’s a little bit of fear, because when you get excited about something, my second thought is like, “I don’t want to fuck this up. I want to make sure that I get it right.” And then a bit of overwhelm—just: how am I… where do I even start? Who’s going to help me get this off the ground? Who are the right people? Where am I going to find them? But that flutter, butterfly giddiness — that you can’t stop thinking about it — and that anxiousness of wanting to get it done, those feelings overcome me in waves.
One of the many things I appreciate about you, of course, is your transparency and your dedication to just overall vulnerability, it feels like. But I think some people would be surprised to hear that Issa Rae thinks, “Oh my God, am I going to fuck this up?”
Who doesn’t? If you don’t think that, you’re a little too confident.
And maybe you don’t care about it enough. If you don’t have that thought, then I don’t think you care enough about the project.
And I guess there are some people who are so passionate and confident in their ability to deliver, they don’t allow themselves to think that. But for me, that’s part of the process. That’s part of the humility of being able to even do this in the first place, which is just wanting to do justice to it. And I have no shame about feeling like, “Am I going to fuck this up?” I might. And I have fucked things up before—a lot—and learning from that is the best part. But I’ll sit in it for a long time. There’s nothing worse than being like, I saw in my head how it was supposed to be, and then when I did it, it just didn’t meet my expectations of it.
But does that also make you really cherish and appreciate the times when it is?
Absolutely. I need to do better about living in it longer, but when I know, it just feels like, okay, great. Now, what’s the next one?
Obviously, so many things to discuss with you, but I do want to start with your beginnings—which, of course, were YouTube. You have, I think, a really incredible perspective about that app and also what it can do to change people’s lives. Could you tell me one thing about the evolution of YouTube that makes you really excited about the platform and storytelling, and one that makes you a little cautious about where YouTube is?
What makes me really excited is—we were just talking about this—it seems like when I started, that was the burgeoning platform for creators and for people who couldn’t find a voice in TV. And I feel like now—and that was in 2011—we’re back at that place in a scary way, but also in an exciting way where it’s just like… people tell me all the time, “How do I break into TV and film?” I’m like, TV and film doesn’t know what it’s doing right now. Your best bet is to get on YouTube to get noticed, where they’re still mining people and they’re looking for people.
And YouTube is very, very aware of that and dedicating resources to that. They want to continue to be the number one platform. They’re bigger than Netflix.
What gives me pause is … I guess there’s a lot, and it does make it really hard to stand out. And I guess the direction that it may be heading in may be more… I just don’t want it to become TV. I think it’s great what it is, and I don’t want it to lose sense of the fact that YouTube is an every platform—I mean, it is an everyman’s platform, every person’s platform—and anyone can post, anyone can make their content, and it can be seen, and it’s fair game. And I don’t want them to get so focused on algorithms that they miss that.
What’s your overall thought about it? Feels like what you’re describing is a level of oversaturation.
Or at least just an excess of. And with YouTube, you are right — you can have an idea, you can put the video up, everyone can see it, which is an amazing thing. But then there is the flip side of, well, everyone can do that. So how do you cut through?
And I’m not sure if you’ve had this experience, but anytime — if I’m speaking to a college student and they ask about my path and what they should do — I feel like I’m in a place now … what it was when I was coming up is so different that I feel like my advice maybe helps, but it doesn’t apply.
Do you feel that way?
Yeah. I felt that way five years ago. And I definitely feel that way now, especially because there are way more platforms. I’m not on TikTok, I’m not on Snap, and those are their own audiences. And then the attention span, I’ve watched that shift over time. Initially, I was making too-long stuff for YouTube, and by the time “Awkward Black Girl,” I started doing that, then it was like, “Let me try to make it two, three minutes to get people’s attention.” And then people started asking for it to be longer. And now it’s like short form is back in.
And you’re just constantly competing for people’s attention. And everybody is making content. And my thing, even with that word, is … so it used to be cool to be a content creator. Now I’m like, well, anybody can make content. So what’s distinguishing it from — I guess — art? Is it art, or is it just content?
And if it’s content, then, and anybody can make it, then what am I doing?
I can tell you’re still mulling over what that thought is, but from what you’ve sort of come up with so far, what do you feel like are the differences?
For me, I think that I strive to create art. And I have a longevity. I don’t strive to recreate what others are doing. I study a lot of the artists that came before me, and I want to make an impact—not just get views. Sometimes views are such a huge part of content creation where it’s like, “I need this to go viral.” And I’m like, “No, I want this to affect someone.” And two things can be true—don’t get me wrong—something can go viral that still affects someone. That’s probably why it goes viral.
But conversely, there are people that just make stuff to get a rise out of people, or to anger them, or trauma porn — those kind of things. But I want to make, I guess mostly long-form things that stay with people for a lifetime. I want to make people’s favorite shit, is what I always say.
I wish we had enough time just to unpack Insecure, but we’ll revisit that another day. But as someone who has seen it from every stage — from a lot of people watching, to not as many people watching, to building, and that middle ground — what do you think is the danger in only measuring yourself by numbers?
I mean, it’s almost like you’re determining your worth and the worth of your project by numbers. It’s like, some of my favorite things are things that I know a lot of people haven’t discovered yet, or maybe won’t discover. When I think about songs, people are so proud to be like, “Oh, I’ve been up on them since.” It feels like yours. And you can be okay with that, if it’s not reaching the masses.
And I remember my experience with HBO initially for Insecure. I was drawn to work with them because I knew that they didn’t really care about ratings. They were super creator-friendly. And when the pilot first premiered, they gave us our numbers—our rating numbers. And I was so scared. I was like, “This is so low. We about to get canceled.” And we got an email from the president responding like, “We’re on a great track, guys. Let’s go. Let’s keep it pushing.” And that was so affirming, where I was like, oh, you’re going to give us space to grow and be great.
And I think the danger in measuring yourself by just numbers is, you’re not giving yourself that strength — I mean, that patience — to grow and be better. And if you do get those numbers, sometimes you peak so high, and you’re constantly going to be chasing that and repeating yourself to try to chase that, creating a formula. And that’s apparent. And nobody wants that.
And to your point, it’s like sometimes you are creating to grow internally, to become better. That’s also a part of the process of what you’re putting out into the world as well.
Definitely.
And I think that people sometimes have a hesitancy around starting small. So when I read that you were renting out the cameras and you were learning how to edit and you were doing everything on your own, that set a really good baseline to create a flourishing career. What does starting small give you that beginning big would never be able to duplicate?
I mean, a sense of humility, for sure, where you can appreciate when you do grow, how far you’ve come. And it makes you creative. It makes you really, really resourceful.
I remember being so frustrated when I got that first opportunity to create. We were like, one, you waste so much time waiting. Or there’s so many people, the more people you have, the longer it takes to get something off the ground. And everything’s so expensive. And I’m like, I came from making something out of nothing. We just had to use what we had, and we got it done.
So why be truly beyond expensive? And why is it we have all the funds, and it’s taking longer? That’s crazy. So for me, it also makes me — I know that I don’t need a bunch of money to make something. And I also love that I’m like, if I have the urge to create something, I will find a way to make it.
Weird question, but I think you’ll understand what I’m asking: How delusional have you been in your life, and how has this delusion served you?
Very, very, very, very delusional. You have to be delusional to think that you could break into an industry like this, because a lot of people want to do it, and a lot of people are significantly more talented than you. There’s something you have to be a little crazy to try. But it could be me, and I could spend a lot of time trying. And even being in it — like, I do pinch myself. But you also have to have a little bit of delusion, because people are also crazy. And then you’re at the whims of their delusions. And so it’s kind of like we created this delusional language, but it’s working. It’s a delusion if I’m right. Yeah. I feel like a little delusion is healthy, as long as you’re aware of your delusions.
You’ve got to know what’s going on, for sure. One of my favorite stories from your book, I Should Be Smarter by Now — love it. You recall a college tour that you went on, and what you were charging $200. Can you give everyone a synopsis of that story before I dive into a question about it?
Yes. When we were doing Awkward Black Girl, we started a Kickstarter, and that was the base of the money we had. We raised $60,000, and that was gone pretty soon in terms of paying the crew that was helping us. So we were trying to figure out another way to make money to also live. My producing partner at the time was like, “Let’s do a college tour,” because all these people are in our comments saying, “Come to my school, come to my school.” And I was like, “To do what?” So she was like, “We should start a college tour.” And I was like, “That’s a great idea. We could promote this, show the fan base.” But I was scared. I was like, “I don’t know how much to charge. I don’t want to push people away.” So let’s charge them a hundred dollars each—for me and you.
So $200, and then they have to pay for the flights, accommodations, etc. Hundreds of schools hit us up. Of course, I was like, “Oh, this is great.” We had Morgan, and we were like, “This is great.” By the 30th school, we had been on hella spirit flights. We were staying in people’s dorm rooms. And I was getting sick flying cross-country. And I was like, “We’ve done this all wrong.” By about the 30-something school, after we had spoken, this lady was driving us back to the airport, and she was like, “Sisters, can I just tell you something? You need to value yourself more.” Because they had just had a poet a few weeks ago, whom they paid $5,000. And I was like, “What? The 30 schools for 5,000 do?” I wouldn’t even be talking to you.
It didn’t even cross my mind to charge that much, clearly because I was so scared of pushing people away. A hundred dollars was absurd. But I also still hadn’t made that much money by that time through all the school fees combined. So I made three K in a month, which was something, which was something. But yeah, it was a learning lesson, for sure, to raise our prices and to know our value and worth.
There’s also, I think, something really powerful this professor said: “I think you’re lowballing yourself. I think you’re not recognizing your value.” I think those moments are really key for you to move forward. When you fast-forward to now, I’d love to know: How do you always make sure you’re getting what you deserve?
It’s working with team members who understand my value. There have still been instances where I undervalue myself, because I’m so excited for the work. But then there are other times when I’m like, “I know how much time I’m putting into this. When I say yes to something, I’m giving it my all.” So it needs to be here. It needs to meet this standard before I even get out of bed. And then, of course, there are things you just do for the passion, like, “Okay, they only have this much. I really, really believe in this project.” It is what it is. But that’s my choice. And I think recognizing that I have a choice in the matter makes all the difference.
I want to go back to something you said earlier when we were talking about YouTube: that TV and film don’t really know exactly what they’re doing right now. You told Time Magazine, “I’m sorry, but there aren’t a lot of smart executives anymore, and a lot of them have aged out and are holding onto their positions and refusing to let young blood get in.” I do agree with this. I’d like to know: what have you observed about the gap between what audiences want and what executives think they want?
I think it’s more about playing safe. And in saying that — I had three glasses of Viarae when I did that interview, so I would not say they were not smart. I’d say they were playing it too safe. There’s such a fear. They’re super fearful, and that reads. That’s fearful in taking risks.
Constantly mining IP remakes, things like that. They think that’s what audiences want. And in many cases, they’ve been right—like, of course, the Mario movie is one of the highest-grossing films, because it evokes nostalgia and people want to see those characters. So they’ve been right. But that’s not all audiences want. We love inventive original stories.
Right now, I think the disconnect is between getting people to come to theaters and getting them to come for original stories. Sometimes they’ll say, “Look, we put this original story out and nobody showed up—so what do audiences want?” They’re not telling us they want this. But we were able to — with One of Them Days, for example—comedies weren’t doing well in theaters. And I knew if this film was successful, the narrative would be that comedies are back. And we were successful.
So many heads of studios came to us like, “Oh my God, this is so exciting, because I’ve missed comedies and theaters, and maybe now we can greenlight this project I wanted to do.” Because you guys are proof that audiences will go to theaters. I think they should prop TriStar for taking a risk on our film. But more studios need to use their brainpower. They know they have the passion that brought them into this industry to begin with, so give it a shot, try, take a risk.
But in fairness to them, Wall Street has taken over all these studios, and because they have to turn in profits, profits, profits — it’s all about numbers, numbers, numbers. And that fuels the IP-remake craze happening now.
Does that ever create, for lack of a better term, almost an internal battle, as a creative, seeing what’s out there, what people are into, but also knowing your vision, what you want to put out into the world, and trying to make them make sense of one another? If that makes sense.
Yeah. The creative in me gets a little bummed out. But the business person in me is like, “Oh, let’s figure it out. Let’s make it work.” There’s a way to do both. But the last couple of years have still been really hard. We’re like, “Okay, we figured out the formula. This is still an original idea that meets the Let’s get butts in seats to theaters model.” But now, “Why don’t you see the vision? How can I convince you to see the vision?” It’s a constant dance for me.
I always start from a place: Do I want to see this? Does it exist? Has a version existed before that I can put an original stamp on? And then: yeah, am I fired up to do it? Then I step back after I’ve done it and put on the business hat.
I do think it’s important to pause, give One of Them Days the flowers it deserves. That movie was phenomenal. But to your point, it’s a rare thing: a comedy that is as successful as it is a great movie, and being your first foray into feature film, it was incredibly successful. How did it feel doing that for the first time, and having it be everything you imagined?
Thank you. It was really, really satisfying. This is our first film that we produced. It was written by Sarita Singleton, who was writing I Love To—we worked on Insecure and Rap Shit together—and directed by Lawrence Lamont, whose first feature film this was. He came from making music videos—most notably for Big Sean. So it was a first time, for all three of us, in that way.
And SZA, yes, feature film and acting debut. And of course, Keke [Palmer] is a veteran. I love Keke. She’s amazing. She gave us her stamp. This would not have been made without her saying yes. And it also wouldn’t have been made without SZA saying yes.
But it was incredible. We made that film on a low budget, in 21 days — and that’s hard to do. In L.A., it’s very expensive to shoot. But we insisted it be a movie about L.A., and have it take place there. It showed us that we can do anything and that we can make things at certain price points. And like I said earlier: if 25-year-old me knew I’d be getting $12 million to make a film, I’d be like, “I’ll make six movies.” So it opened my eyes, and I want to do more of it.
We all hope you do. Okay, not to spring another curveball, but speaking of movies, Jay Ellis came to Boardroom, and he said he’d do an Insecure movie if you were into it. So, where do we stand on an Insecure movie? Could it happen in the future?
Jay is lying. Issa lied to Lawrence. Okay. Because what if he says he’s going to do a movie? I am going to text him afterward and be like, “Hey, we’re doing this movie,” and see what he says. So thank you for that.
Yes, you can put him on the hot seat, but yes, he did tease it a bit. I want to talk about your impact. I don’t think we can talk to Issa Rae without talking about your impact—you mean so many things to many people. When I told people I was going to talk to you, there were so many reactions: whether it’s “President Barbie,” or their eyes light up and they’re like, “Tell her I was not Team Lawrence,” or my makeup artist friend Al is like, “Do you think I could go up and start rapping ‘Broken Pussy’?” Or people saying, “Oh, everyone who popped up married is linking up together. I say Avengers a symbol.” So many things. But all of it is rooted in joy.
What do you think you mean to people?
I’m just grateful to be thought of. Honestly, if I thought about that too hard, I’d get too in my head. But I’m surprised and just honestly so appreciative. Whenever anybody tells me anything affected them. even walking through an airport looking busted, and a man stops me and says, “Hey, thank you for everything you do.” I’m like, “Thank you.” Thank you for seeing me, not thank you for seeing me, but thank you for seeing me in my work. And so yeah, I am just appreciative.
In your book you say, “I’ve accomplished more than I could have ever imagined.” And I know what you mean when you say that. But I wonder: Do you really believe that, or did you imagine this life?
I didn’t imagine this life, because I didn’t really know what was possible. But I got delusional about it. Whatever the cap of my imagination was still wasn’t this. But I did imagine I’d be writing and making things; I just didn’t know what it looked like or how to get there. So my delusion had limits. But now I’m beyond delusional.
Well, honestly, these find-and-feel questions are selfishly for me. Some things that you said in the book deeply resonated with me. You describe how fear has guided a lot of your business moves—the looming “I’m going to lose it” feeling. I get that feeling; I call it anxiety. Do you call it fear? Or do you call it anxiety?
I guess I would now, because you said “anxiety.” It’s been such a part of me for a long time, but it must be rooted in that. Yeah, I guess so. I never thought about it, and I’ve definitely talked to a therapist about it.
It’s all I talk about in therapy: Is it really just the running out of time? That’s part of it. But I fall into the trap of feeding into that fear, and believing that it could be taken away, has also fueled me the same. You know that’s wrong. That’s not how you should think. But then you feel like there’s proof that going this and acting like this is working. So you’re trying your best to get out of the confines of finding success through fear of losing it, and instead sit in the success you’ve gained because you earned it.
I don’t know. I don’t like that. Yeah, it doesn’t feel right. I like the first part of what you described. I’m like, I’m fueled, I’m motivated. Sometimes it doesn’t feel good, but it motivates me.
And unfortunately, the way I was built is: A lot of my — I’m going to say it out loud — my self-worth is determined by how productive I get to be. And that does make me happy. Do I need to be better about sitting in it? Yes. And I’ve gotten better. I’m aware of it. But yeah, I guess that’s why I’m hesitant to call it anxiety. And I know everybody’s anxiety looks different.
It’s your air. That’s how I feel — it’s just how you breathe, it doesn’t even register sometimes.
I think someone from a distance could look at me and say, “Well, I don’t want to be her,” and I don’t want that. But I’m a fish in water. It just is what it is.
You also talk about your almost obsession with time, and it made me think of My Love Story by Mariah Carey. She has a moment where she talks about characters like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, and says their existence is just about them being fabulous. You don’t think of them aging. You just celebrate them. She says that taught her what it means to be timeless. If those characters are timeless, she knows it’s possible to be timeless. How does that resonate with you?
What a genius. I was literally last week (earlier this week) watching a bunch of her performances, because it dawned on me that she has created such an incredible body of work. She’s written most of her songs. She owns Christmas. She has a timeless song for Christmas that we just get excited about every year.
That resonates to me now because it feels like she’s determined to not let time defeat her. She’s like, “I am time,” the clock, which I think is incredible. That is delusional in a good way. I think it works for her — and it clearly works for us. We eat it up. I’m not there yet, because she’s a diva, the confidence of a diva. She earned her place. No one can ever take that away. She is an iconic legend. I want to earn that.
Well, you’re absolutely on the path. You’ve already done so many timeless things. And I hope you get to sit in that. I have two more questions. I do want to look forward a little bit. Tell me some people who are creating interesting, compelling stuff that you view as the next generation. I know there are so many — you don’t have to list everyone, but give me two or three.
Oh, no. I said I would know next time I’m asked this. People doing incredible things: I’m going to shout out Angela Flournoy, who has a book, The Wilderness, and she’s an incredible writer. I need her TV show or movie, whatever it is. Stacy Osei-Kuffour, she’s Ghanaian. She’s written on incredible shows like Watchmen, and more recently, Succession. She’s dope behind the scenes. I’m waiting for her big project too.
I’m curious: We obviously see many internet comedians, creators, people who have created their own lane and real online popularity. What do you feel is the key or the difference maker to translate that online popularity into tangible popularity?
That’s such an interesting question — something I think about all the time. I hear about massive online stars who’ve created empires. Yet I know some of them still want that Hollywood badge, in a way.
I think online popularity doesn’t always translate to real-life popularity. That is a grind most people don’t know. That’s part of why having the Hollywood stamp is appealing. It’s like, oh, this is funded, I don’t have to struggle as much to do everything. When you create online, sometimes you bear the weight of everything yourself.
So I think the appeal of Hollywood is having a bigger system behind you. It’s like being an entrepreneur vs. being with a larger company: you get stability, salary, support. But I also think if your goal is independence, to build your own thing — you want control — you can green-light yourself.
So my advice: Focus on your audience, who you’re serving. Build that community. Be intentional, specific. That ultimately always extends to a broader community.
I love that. I’ve truly enjoyed this conversation. I feel like I’m about to say something rambling, but something I’ve been exploring a lot in therapy: Sometimes when I watch women — especially Black women, when they accomplish something, or speak about their dreams — I start crying. Because I feel seen. And my therapist says: You get emotional because you see yourself in them. And I want you to know, you are a person who, without even knowing it, has made me feel very seen. It’s been an honor to chat with you. I hate that I’m crying. This is what therapy does to you, and I’ll never go back. But I mean every word. I am so happy for you and proud of you. Thank you. I can’t wait to see all the things you’ll do — even though you already have done so much — but it feels like there’s always more. Thank you for this time, for being part of the Boardroom Cover Story. It was a pleasure.
It was such a highlight. Thank you so much for everything. Thank you for your thoughtful questions and for pouring into me. I really, really appreciate it. Thank you.
Interviewer – Taylor Rooks
Photographer – Mark Clennon
VP, Content – Damien Scott
Art Director – Michelle Lukianovich
Sr. Director of Video – Andrea Masenda
Senior Producer – Craig Newton
Video Producer – Audrey Blackmore
Production Assistant – Amel Sutton
Photography Assistant – Emmanuel Porquin
Digitech – Emmanuel Porquin
Audio Technician – Matthew Patterson Curry
Clothing Stylist – Wouri Vice
Tailoring – Sylvio
Hair Stylist – Felicia Leatherwood
Makeup Stylist – Jessica Smalls
Manager of Content Operations – Griffin Adams
Sr. Director of Social – Yoni Mernick
Sr. Director of Audience Development – Jonathan Wiener
Director, Marketing – Stephanie Talmadge
CMO – Sarah Flynn
Co-Founders – Rich Kleiman & Kevin Durant
Read More:
EA’s $55B Leap Into Private Ownership: What Gamers Should Watch
The Baltimore Ravens Defense Is Wasting Lamar Jackson’s Prime
Xania Monet’s $3 Million Record Deal Sparks AI Music Debate
How Red Bull Cliff Diver Molly Carlson Turns Fear Into Viral Bravery
Bryce Harper Set the Signature Standard
