The killing of Mahsa Amini in Iran have set off worldwide protests by the country's large diaspora. We hear their stories.
Mahsa Amini died Sept. 16 in Iran after an encounter with the country’s so-called morality police. Since her death, Iranians have taken to the streets in protest of the country’s modesty laws. But what began as a call for women’s rights in Iran has since ballooned into something so much bigger.
Today, we hear from the Iranian diaspora about why they’re protesting in solidarity. Read the full transcript here.
Host: L.A. Times podcast producer Asal Ehsanipour
Guests: L.A. Times diaspora reporter Sarah Parvini
More reading:
‘Woman, life, freedom’: L.A. protest over Iran draws thousands
‘Nothing to lose’: Iran’s protesters step up their defiance as a potential showdown looms
In protests over death of Mahsa Amini, internet is key to planning. Can Iran block access?
TAPE: Crowd chanting
ASAL EHSANIPOUR: On Saturday, Sept. 24, I spent my morning on the steps of San Francisco’s City Hall in the blazing heat. The demonstration started with just a handful of people. A pair of friends. A father and son. But slowly, more Iranian Americans, like me, started trickling in.
ASAL (TAPE): They're holding signs with Mahsa Amini’s name on it. People have Iranian flags. It's a small crowd so far, but it's slowly starting to fill in a little bit more. Mostly women actually, now that I'm looking around, obviously there are some men too, but it's a lot of women.
ASAL: They were there to protest the death of Mahsa Amini.
AP (TAPE): The young woman was detained on September the 13th for allegedly wearing her hijab too loosely in violation of strictures demanding women in public wear the Islamic head scarves.
ASAL: People read poetry.
TAPE: [Poetry is read in Farsi to applause]
ASAL: They shared these incredibly personal stories of how the rise of the Islamic Republic of Iran has impacted their families…
MANDANA (TAPE): We can't get together because of this regime. 43 years, I had to be away from my brother, my sister, my grandmother, they all died. I couldn't be in their funeral because I was stuck over here on this side of the world.
ASAL: Since Mahsa's death, people in Iran have taken to the streets in protest of the country's modesty laws. Women cutting their hair in the streets, women pushing back against the morality police, yelling, “I'm not coming with you. You won't touch me.” But what began as a call for women's rights in Iran has since ballooned into something so much bigger. On Saturday, Oct. 1, thousands of people in over 100 major cities around the world protested in solidarity with the people of Iran calling for freedom and an end to the Islamic Republic.
MANDANA (TAPE): It's hard to take all these things. My heart is aching every day I think about that. And then when these things happen, Mahsa is just not the only one. She's the start of this. And we're not stopping. Death to this regime.
ASAL: I’m Asal Ehsanipour, filling in for Gustavo Arellano today. You’re listening to The Times, essential news from the L.A. Times. It’s Wednesday, Oct. 5, 2022. Today: How one woman’s death has sparked a protest movement in California and across the world.
ASAL: I’m joined by my L.A. Times colleague and metro reporter Sarah Parvini. Sarah, welcome to The Times.
SARAH PARVINI: Thanks so much for having me.
ASAL: So, these protests in Iran – at this point, people are calling it the next revolution. Paint a picture for us, what does it look like in Iran right now?
SARAH: So these protests started essentially right after news broke of Mahsa Amini's death. And what we're seeing now are all kinds of expressions of discontent, of anger, of calls for women's rights and change fundamentally in Iran.
AP (TAPE): [Chanting]
SARAH: More recently, Iranian security forces clashed with students at Sharif University, which is among the most prestigious in Iran. And according to social media and some state media reports, it's essentially the latest sign of this deadly clampdown on nationwide protests. These videos show security forces firing tear gas at students, kind of pushing them off campus. In some of these videos you can hear shooting in the distance.
AP (TAPE): [Tear gas thrown]
SARAH: And then there's other videos like one that shows Iranian authorities chasing students through what looks like a parking structure. Activists say that at this point, dozens of students have been arrested. It's essentially the latest sign of this deadly clampdown on nationwide protests. In addition to this, human rights groups have also said that Iranian authorities in Zahedan and Bison province have gunned down protesters and killed more than 40 people there as well. All of this is happening against a backdrop of censorship and constant internet blackouts that make it difficult for some of these videos to get out. But nonetheless, these videos do come out. It's important to note that they are not only protesting the hijab and asking for women's rights, although that is a fundamental demand for everyone who is out in the streets right now. The slogan is “Zan, Zendegi, Azadi; Women, Life, Freedom.” But there are also calls for an end to dictatorship and cries for an end to the current regime. Since the president of Iran came into power last year, the morality police have really been cracking down, and so tensions were already quite high before Mahsa Amini's death. And then when she died, things really boiled over.
ASAL: Tell us a little bit more about how these protests have been met by government officials.
SARAH: Well, right now they've responded violently. The protesters are being shot at, as I mentioned earlier, and Iran's president said that he would deal with protesters decisively. More recently, Iran's supreme leader called the protests riots and essentially accused protesters and the protests themselves of being engineered by the U.S. and by Israel, which is sort of a favorite refrain of the regime and Iran.
ASAL: Yeah. Well, we mentioned the name Mahsa Amini earlier, and her death sparked these protests. But tell us about who Mahsa was.
SARAH: So Mahsa Amini was a Kurdish woman from Kurdistan province. She was visiting Tehran on Sept. 13 when she was detained by Gasht-e-Ershad, or the guidance patrol, what has become known in Western media as the morality police. They said that she was wearing tight trousers, that she didn't have her headscarf on properly, and that she was, as a result, in violation of a law that mandates women wear hijab and loose-fitting clothing to disguise their figures in public. Activists have said that she was beaten with a baton on her head and suffered other injuries that were serious enough to put her into a coma. She died three days later. Now, of course, Iranian authorities deny beating her, and they say that she had preexisting health conditions that led to sudden heart failure. But it's important to note that her father has come out and said that the authorities are lying, that his daughter has had no health problems throughout the course of her life, and that her brother saw her being beaten in the van, and the other women who were in the van have come forward and said that they had also seen her being beaten.
ASAL: More after the break.
ASAL: So, Sarah, people are taking to the streets across Iran to protest Mahsa's death, but these protests have since spread around the world. Tell me about some of the protesters in California and around the Iranian diaspora who you've spoken to. What are their motivations for getting involved?
SARAH: Yeah, so one of the women I spoke to, she's 29 years old, her name is Elnaz. She's based on the East Coast.
ELNAZ: Yes. I live in Huntington, W.Va. I go to Marshall University.
SARAH: She lived in Iran between the age of 6 and 16. She was born in the U.S. and raised for those first few years in the U.S. and then after 16 came back to the U.S.
ELNAZ: I'm a postgrad. I'm doing two years of biology courses, and then I'm hopefully gonna apply to the medical school here.
SARAH: But when she was 12, she was walking back home from school one day, she told me that she was stopped by three women dressed in all black and that she had been dressed as would be appropriate to go to school. So she had been properly covered up under the eyes of the school, but on the way back she had rolled up her sleeves to maybe her mid-forearm and maybe a little bit of her hair had come untucked from her hijab, similar to Mahsa Amini.
ELNAZ: And I got in trouble because of my hair showing a little bit. Not even a lot, just like the front, like you could even imagine like not even a whole five fingers on my forehead was out. Just a little bit of it was out. And my sleeve was, imagine like a three-quarter sleeve on my arm. That was the only issue: that some of my wrist was out.
SARAH: And within a few moments after this back-and-forth with some of these women who kept telling her that she had to come with them, she was put in a car and taken to what she described as a reeducation center. Essentially, she had been taken into custody by these modesty police.
ELNAZ: It was extremely traumatic for me. This could have, I mean, I could have died in that scenario. I could have been kept overnight. If my parents hadn't gotten me out that night, it would've been – maybe this would've been me, and I know so many other of my friends are still there dealing with this.
SARAH: For her, when she heard what happened to Mahsa Amini, it instantly transported her back to when she had been arrested herself as a child, and she posted a video on Instagram of cutting her own hair in protest, in solidarity, the same way that women and some men in Iran have been doing.
ELNAZ: I love my hair, but I wanted to show that – how horrible it is to kill someone because of something as simple as hair. It’s the dead organ of our body. I mean, this girl died because of her hair. Her manto and her, her hijab was fully covered, the rest of her body, only because of her hair Mahsa died. And to me that's just, it just felt like the right thing to do.
SARAH: And she said that for her it was an act of defiance and an act of protest against the Iranian government and against its modesty laws.
ELNAZ: It's a very spiritual thing to us, but to me it was not worth a life and I had to somehow, I thought that this way I could show that I am willing to do anything for my country, and I wish I, it feels horrible, as a person that's not there fighting with them side by side.
ASAL: Yeah. Hearing her story, I'm taken back my own experience. I visited Iran for the first time in 2016, and you know, I had to come up with a plan with my mom for what I would do and what I would say in case I was ever approached by the modesty police. Like you know, if my head covering slid off or if I was accidentally showing too much hair, if my clothing wasn't appropriate. And for me personally, the stakes felt incredibly high because you know, I'm not just an American citizen whose Farsi is not wonderful, but I'm also Jewish. And, as we know, the Iranian government hasn't always been friendly to Jewish people, and also not American citizens. But, Sarah, I was wondering what exactly are Iran's modesty laws? They go beyond just hair coverings and dress codes. Right?
SARAH: The hijab has been compulsory and has been enforced in the aftermath of the Islamic Revolution in Iran in 1979. It became compulsory about two years after the revolution itself, and women began protesting that change as soon as it happened. Essentially what the law does is it requires women and girls over the age of 9 to wear a headscarf in public, as well as a long sleeved tunic or a coat commonly referred to as a manto with pants and or a long skirt. Basically what you have to do is wear loose-fitting clothing that disguises your figure in public. In recent years, women kind of were pushing back against that. They would wear barely a scarf over their head and you know, the jackets wouldn't be very long and, you know, sort of making the best that they could out of a compulsory situation. But nonetheless those laws do persist and have only been cracked down on more after the recent president took power. There are also guidelines for men that require them to wear pants. They're not supposed to wear shorts, and they're also not supposed to wear sleeveless shirts, like a tank top, in public, so it's short-sleeved or long-sleeved tops for men.
ASAL: Mm-hmm. And what happens when you violate those laws?
SARAH: There are officers of the state who enforce the laws. For women who violate these modesty laws, as we have seen, they can face time in prison. There are common punishments like fines, that might not seem like much in American dollars, but are a lot in Iranian currency, especially with the economy such as it is. Or reeducation classes. And then there's very real threats and carried-out punishments of being lashed, physical punishment for violating these laws.
ASAL: And I guess I'm just wondering, how theoretical are these punishments and how common is it for women in Iran, people in Iran, to know someone who have been taken by the morality police and reprimanded for violating these modesty laws?
SARAH: I would say it's not uncommon to know someone who has run into the modesty police or Gasht-e-Ershad or been harassed or bothered in some kind of way, even if it's not to the extreme of being put into a van and taken somewhere, even if it's just on the street itself. I would say that a lot of people know someone, even if it didn't happen to them, who has had some kind of run-in with these authorities.
ASAL: So, this isn't the first time that Iranian people have resisted their government since it's become a self-proclaimed Islamic Republic in the 1970s. What's the history of not only protest movements in Iran, but also the government's response to those uprisings?
SARAH: There have been other protests under the Islamic Republic. Among the most high profile was the Green Movement of 2009 after the Iranian presidential election. At that time, protesters demanded the removal of then-President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad from office.
AP (TAPE): [People chanting]
SARAH: They thought that his election was rigged. They were chanting, “Where is my vote?” And in those protests we did see a woman's face become sort of an emblem of the movement, Neda Agha-Soltan, who was shot in the chest after protesting in the streets. That set of protests also led to a massive amount of arrests, of death, of a violent crackdown by Iranian authorities. But in many ways, because it was in response to an election, the discourse of that movement was a bit different than what we're seeing now. It was more of a reformist discourse rather than calling from what would be a full break from the framework of the Islamic Republic, which is more of what we hear in the chants that are on the street today.
If we fast-forward to 2019…
AP (TAPE): [People protest]
SARAH: There were protests after a sharp increase in fuel prices, and at that time we had slogans against, again, the supreme leader and against the entirety of the Islamic Republic and the rule of the clergy itself.
ASAL: It’s difficult to know for sure given the internet blackouts, but I've seen other estimates being over three times as much. But you know, these protests feel different to me than the ones we saw in 2009 and 2019. I followed both of those protest movements closely, but this feels different, I think partly because of the unprecedented bravery that we're seeing from these women. And of course, the other piece too, is that these women are so young, like it feels like it's being led by millennials and Gen Z-ers, who know how to use social media, and to an extent, bypass these internet blackouts in order to get the word out. Like they're filming confrontations in the streets, they're filming themselves taking off their head coverings and posting them to the internet. And I'm curious to hear your thoughts on how these protests compare to others in the past and what you think makes this movement so unique.
SARAH: I would say the sheer amount of people that we are seeing protesting and the number of cities that we are seeing people protesting in Iran. It is incredibly widespread, but also, as you touched on, these are in many cases very young protesters. They are protesters led by women in the streets, and they are, as you said, Gen Z, millennials who have never lived under another kind of government. They were raised in the Islamic Republic. They may have family members who remember life before the revolution, or family members who live in the diaspora, but this kind of rule is what they've known for all of their lives. And so I would say, you know, for a lot of them, and I don't wanna speak for them because I can't presume to, but I would imagine that they see in Mahsa Amini, a young woman who could have been them, a young woman who could have been their sister, their best friend, you know, their classmate, and they feel like enough is enough and it's just time for change. And it's not time for change just in terms of a compulsory hijab, but it is time for change system-wide.
ELNAZ: I've never been so proud to say that I'm an Iranian. I've never been so proud to be who I am because of them fighting. This is a war right now, and these are our fighters. They are warriors fighting and battling for their rights.
ASAL: More after the break.
ASAL: So, Sarah, your main beat is covering diaspora communities, and we heard about how Elnaz has joined the Iranian protest movement. But let's talk about how Iranian communities across the world are responding.
SARAH: Definitely on social media, I would say you will see on Instagram, on Twitter, on TikTok, you name it, there are Iranians in the diaspora who are taking the videos that somehow make their way, despite censorship, out of Iran, and they are spreading it to the rest of the world. They are posting their own videos explaining what's happening in Iran to people who might not understand what's going on. They are, like Elnaz, cutting their hair on social media in solidarity. They are making music to explain what's happening, and then they are straight-up protesting like the protests that you went to in Northern California, not just here in the state, but across the country, across the world, in cities like Paris, in Canadian cities, it's very widespread in the diaspora. It's essentially those outside of Iran using their privilege, using their ability to communicate to other people.
EVE (TAPE): I just wanted to share also a message from my friends in the streets, they said that they appreciate the love. Although it's been really hard here, it's nice to know that even the people in Iran are still hopeful. And so: Death to the regime.
ASAL: And I feel like from what I'm seeing, to an extent, too, these protesters are drawing from their own experiences and making connections between what's happening in Iran. I feel like what I'm seeing is, especially in the United States, people are saying, we stepped up and we protested during the women's march and we stepped up and we protested and we commented and we posted on social media, when abortion rights were stripped away recently. And what I'm seeing is like this empathy that's being offered among people in the diaspora to what's happening in Iran, sort of making connections between their own personal experience and what they're seeing happening over there.
SARAH: Absolutely. You have folks in the diaspora who, either themselves, were born in Iran and at some point immigrated to the U.S. because they felt like that was the best opportunity that they had. You have folks like you and I who were born here, but who have family in Iran or whose parents were born in Iran and came before or after the revolution. And so they definitely feel that connection to the culture, to the country, and then on top of that, feel the weight of a moment of a woman-led protest, a woman-led movement in Iran at a time when really around the world, and certainly in our own country, women's rights are at the forefront of the conversation. And you have protesters in Iran, yes, protesting against the hijab, but really protesting for women's rights, for basic human rights. The slogan is “Zan, Zendegi, Azadi”...
TAPE: [People chanting]
SARAH: “Women, Life, Freedom.” And I think a lot of people can relate to that regardless of where they live.
ASAL: So I'm curious what makes the response here in California, and particularly in Los Angeles, so unique?
SARAH: Well, there are, simply put, a lot of Iranians who live in California and specifically a lot who live in Southern California.
ASAL: Yes.
SARAH: So you have people who came and put down their roots here because they were fleeing the revolution. You have folks, like my parents, who actually came before the revolution and came to go to school and then didn't go back. So it's really a mix of the kinds of folks, either feeling like you were forced out and you didn't have a choice, or you were here and then you felt like you couldn't go back. And that's the older generation, that's my parents' generation. You have waves of immigration after that. Younger folks who came for university, who came to go to graduate school, who came for work. And then you have, sort of homegrown Iranian Americans, like us, who were born here, the children of immigrants. And so I think that's one reason why in Southern California, in California as a whole, you might see a strong response in terms of protest because those connections to Iran, to Iranian culture, are still so strong and still so tangible.
ASAL: Yeah. I mean, of course if you know, you know, they call it Tehrangeles because there are so many Iranian Americans in the L.A. area. I'm curious though, there's something that struck me about what you said, that, you know, we have the older generation and then we have the younger generation, so that's people who maybe have never been to Iran and who are, you know, their perception of Iran is based almost entirely on what their parents have told them and what they read on the news. And I'm curious, have you talked to any younger Iranian Americans who are the children of immigrants, who have attended protests, and I'm wondering what their motivation is for participating.
SARAH: There are certainly Iranian Americans and Iranians in diaspora in other parts of the world who are joining in on this, even if they've never been to Iran. And I think it's for the culture. It's this sense of still feeling connected to Iranian culture, to knowing from their parents or maybe their grandparents what life in Iran was like for them growing up, and honestly maybe even a little bit of a sense of mourning, of maybe they feel like it's not safe for them to go, depending on what their background is or maybe depending on what their career path is. They feel like it's not safe. And so, I think that sort of collective sense of wanting change, of wanting equality and basic human rights for women in Iran is something that is still relatable to them. They don't have to have been to Iran to understand the importance of the moment.
ASAL: Yeah, I mean you touched on this, but I think it is about the importance of the moment, and also just like this longing to be connected to, like you said, culture and your family's heritage in a way that feels, I think, impossible for so many people under the current Iranian government.
SARAH: Absolutely. I mean, a personal example, I grew up going to Iran. I had the privilege of doing that with my mother. Growing up, I would spend summers there. I've been several times. But certainly since becoming a journalist, I have not felt safe as an Iranian American, right, a dual citizen whose American citizenship would most likely not be recognized, and therefore my American rights would not be recognized. I have not gone back, and I don't think my situation is unique. My job might be a little unique, but I think there are plenty of people, whether it is for religious reasons, if you are Jewish or you're Baha’i, you don't feel safe going back or whatever the case may be.
ASAL: Yeah, I mean, I'll share a little bit about myself too. I'm Jewish, both of my parents are Jewish Iranian. And my mom, when she left Iran, much like the example you gave earlier, she came for school right after the revolution and expected to go back. Her parents stayed and she didn't see them for over 20 years. And so I grew up not knowing my grandparents on my mom's side. And I only went for the first time a couple years ago, and that was before I got into journalism. And ever since it's felt completely impossible. So I can relate to everything you're saying and I know that that's just, your example and my example are just two examples. And I know that there are so many other people who, you know, feel fear, like maybe that desire to go back and to be connected to their culture is actually like, it's overshadowed by the fact that they're scared and they feel fear. So that desire actually, like it's in juxtaposition and there's like a tension I think between those two things.
SARAH: Yeah, absolutely. I think for a lot of people, or at least, you know, for myself, it's a question of the opportunity cost, right? What is the sort of cost-benefit analysis of, if I go to Iran, which I could literally hop on a plane and go do that now with my Iranian passport, but, do the benefits of being able to see family, of being able to get in touch with my culture outweigh um, the very real risk of getting thrown in jail? I mean, look at what happened to Jason Rezaian, and I'm not even, I'm not a famous journalist like he is…
ASAL: I mean, you are famous…but of course, we’re talking about Jason Rezaian, who was the Tehran bureau chief for the Washington Post.
SARAH: Yeah, so nonetheless, we see less well known people thrown in jail, being accused of being spies and things like that. And so I think for the diaspora too, although of course the struggle is very different and much less immediate and does not put you in mortal danger the way that these women are out on the streets right now, you know, it's a different kind of struggle. But I think it's a struggle, or a longing, or a sense of loss or mourning, that does bring a lot of people out onto the streets in these moments of protest. They have solidarity and understanding for the women who are out there putting their lives on the line, and then they bring something else to the table too, which is, I can't be there, so I need to be able to do something.
LAINIE MOTAMEDI (TAPE): We need to send a message loud and clear to the people in the streets that they're not forgotten. That we're gonna keep showing up for them. Because they're putting their bodies out on the line and we have to stand here in the heat and that's the worst we get to suffer. They're suffering real bullets down in the street. So we have to amplify them. We have to spread the word. And that's the reason we're doing this here today to amplify what they're doing in the streets that we're not able to do.
ASAL: Tell me about your motivation, then, to cover Iranian Americans. Can you tell me a little bit about that, and how you might be able to feel connected to the side of your identity through your reporting?
SARAH: Yeah, I mean, I feel like we hear this a lot, but representation matters in newsrooms, right? And that's not to say that you have to be Iranian American to understand these protests and to cover them. I certainly don't think that's the case, but I think it helps to bring a sense of nuance or understanding or, for lack of a better term, maybe an institutional knowledge that comes with growing up in a certain culture that you can lend when these kinds of events happen. But also it stems from growing up not really reading anything about our community in the newspaper or hearing much about it on TV beyond when something goes like horribly wrong internationally.
ASAL: Right, right.
SARAH: But to be able to cover the community, to be able to more broadly cover other diaspora communities that have been less covered in decades past and to sort of rebuild a trust in a sense that, you know, you can talk to us, we will share your stories with respect. That's important to me.
ASAL: So, as we discussed earlier, I went to a protest myself in San Francisco. And I was so struck by the diversity there. Like there were different generations of people, different sexual orientations, people who went up and said they were speaking on behalf of the LGBTQ community in Iran. All kinds of people protesting that day. Some people had just one Iranian parent, as we discussed, other people who had never been to Iran, but were just really in mourning and looking for connection to their culture and the land that their parents came from. That diversity is what really speaks to me in this protest movement. But I'm wondering, how are you reflecting on all of that?
SARAH: I certainly think that what you've mentioned shows that there's no one way to be Iranian in diaspora.
LAINIE MOTAMEDI (TAPE): Growing up as a member of our diaspora means struggling to build an identity in this limbo of cultures. Not being American enough and yet feeling too foreign to be Iranian. I am bound, however, by the tireless, infinite and absolute love for my homeland. I feel my Iranian-ness in my blood, and my very DNA is sourced from our land.
SARAH: You don't have to speak Persian, you don't have to have ever been to Iran. You can have one Iranian parent like my niece does. She's just a little kid, so I don't know how she feels about her identity yet. But you know, there are many, many ways to be and feel Iranian, and I think these protests do reflect that in diaspora. But more broadly, I think it's been, you know, just as a journalist, very striking to see how widespread these protests are in Iran, how widespread solidarity protests are across the world, and to really see women at the forefront in Iran. Because I think maybe a lot of people don't know this, but it's not as if women in Iran are sequestered and sitting at home. Right? And I think we see that in these videos of these protests and the photos that we see of these protests, but they're highly educated in Iran. They hold various jobs, despite the repression of the government, in spite of that kind of oppression.
ASAL: For me personally, too, watching these videos come out of Iran with women being so brave and so fierce, I feel like the world is finally getting to see Iranian women the way I've always seen them, which is extremely powerful. Women who are brave and strong and are so much more than I think the way that they've been perceived in the media up until this point. So that's been for me, like at the protest last week, we had this one woman talk about the sheerzan and, I've been like showing videos to my fiance going like, "See, it's not just me and my mom, like It's all of us," you know? So that's been fun for me, I think to sort of embrace like this legacy of Iranian women that I come from. And I feel so much pride, you know, and, in watching their bravery on the streets.
SARAH: Yeah, it's funny that you mentioned sheerzan, literally a lion woman.
ASAL: Yes, a lion woman.
KAYLA (TAPE): The greatest blessing of my life has been the love of Iranian women. A love so fierce, so sweet, so nurturing, so powerful. Everything I am, I owe to Iranian woman. I am so proud to be an Iranian woman. To share blood, culture, ancestors, language with these sheerzans.
SARAH: It sort of speaks to the strength of Iranian women, sort of like historically. But I certainly see that sort of sheerzan sentiment reflected by those protesters in Iran who are out there putting their lives on the line.
ASAL: Well, Sarah, thank you so much for this conversation.
SARAH: Thank you so much for having me.
ASAL: And that's it for this episode of The Times, essential news from the L.A. Times. Madalyn Amato and Ashlea Brown were the jefas on this episode and Mark Nieto mixed and mastered it. Our show is produced by Shannon Lin, Denise Guerra, Kasia Broussalian, David Toledo and Ashlea Brown. Our editorial assistant is Madalyn Amato. Our engineers are Mario Diaz, Mark Nieto and Mike Heflin. Our editor is Kinsee Morlan. Our executive producers are Jazmin Aguilera, Shani Hilton and Heba Elorbany. Our theme music is by Andrew Eapen.
And hey, we're building a Dia de Muertos audio altar this year, and would love to include your memories of your loved ones. Call (619) 800-0717 and leave us a voicemail with your own memories. Tell us who you are, where you live, and then tell us a great story about a friend, a family member, someone dear to you who has passed on and joined the ancestors. We wanna air an entire episode with those stories around Day of the Dead.
Thanks in advance. I'm Asal Ehsanipour. Gustavo Arellano will be back Friday with the news.