Your next favorite podcast is about humor, hope, and immigration.
Ifrah Mansour is no stranger to conflict.
A Somali refugee and current resident of Minneapolis, the multimedia artist and activist draws on her lived experiences to create work that explores trauma, displacement, and resilience. But like so many of the guests on Freedom to Thrive, an award-winning podcast produced by the National Immigration Law Center (NILC), Mansour doesn’t want to focus only on trauma; she also wants to celebrate the unexpected beauty she’s found during difficult experiences.
“One of the beautiful things about tragedies is that it activates hearts, and courageous people are born,” she says. For example, Mansour has noticed more Minnesotans than ever are reaching out to help the vulnerable, after the anti-immigrant crackdowns carried out by the Department of Homeland Security. “They are bringing food, they’re bringing extra clothes, they’re walking with people, and it’s just really beautiful.”
Hector Flores, co-founder of the Las Cafeteras and host of Freedom to Thrive, agrees with her. A child of immigrants himself, he has also seen how hope and hardship often live side by side.
Flores comes from a family with mixed status and is highly aware of the challenges immigrants and refugees in his community face, and how they’re affected by people’s misconceptions. “People want to know about trauma all the time, but we’re more than just undocumented,” he says. “We’re artists, singers, creatives … there’s so much richness in the culture.”
At its core, Flores’ comment is exactly what the Freedom to Thrive podcast is all about: Celebrating immigrants as complex, dynamic individuals, and challenging the dominant narrative that too often reduces them to symbols of hardship.
Launched in 2024, Freedom to Thrive explores heritage, resilience, community, and the ways art and comedy can spark social change. Now in its second season, the podcast continues to feature conversations with immigrants, policymakers, artists, musicians, activists, and more. Recent guests have included comedian Mo Amer, Grammy Award-winning singer Lila Downs, and Pulitzer Prize-winning author Viet Thanh Nguyen.
Where the first season focused on individual stories of identity and belonging, Flores says his goal for season two, where he joins as host, is to “take it to the next level” — using storytelling to highlight “the fact that we’re more similar than different.”
One recent podcast episode drives this point home. In December, Flores interviewed Bryan Andrews, a rising country music star and rural Missouri native who frequently uses his platform to speak about issues affecting immigrant families. At the heart of his message and his songwriting, Andrews says, is the idea that small-town Americans and the rest of the country, including immigrants, have more in common than they realize.
“It doesn’t matter where you’re from,” Andrews says on the podcast. “We’re all trying to make a living and we’re tired of getting railroaded by corporate greed or by politicians who don’t care.”
Rural Americans, Andrews says, are often stereotyped as racist and misogynistic but “the overwhelming majority of people in my home town have love in their hearts.” Media stereotypes often amplify differences and divide, he says, but at the end of the day, “we’re all in this together.”
Flores, who was raised in a working-class immigrant neighborhood in East Los Angeles, had similar thoughts. He says he often sees its residents stereotyped as wealthy, consumerist, and status obsessed. “That exists, but that’s not my life, that’s not my community,” he says. Like small-town Americans, people in the city “just want to work hard and take care of their families. We all want the same thing.”
Although the podcast tackles some heavy issues, each episode’s ultimate focus is how personal and collective struggles can be healed through art, driving home a message of hope and resilience:
Mansour’s episode about her experiences in Minnesota is just one of many examples. Flores asks her,
“What gives you hope for the people creating a home here?”
“The love I feel from other Minnesotans. It is trumping any hate we’re experiencing,” she replies.
CTA: Stream all episodes now on the Freedom to Thrive YouTube channel or the website, here.
The podcast has been nominated for a Webby in the “Belonging & Inclusion” category. You can vote for it to win until Thursday, April 16!
This article is part of Upworthy’s “The Threads Between U.S.” series that highlights what we have in common thanks to the generous support from the Levis Strauss Foundation, whose grantmaking is committed to creating a culture of belonging.
When asked to describe what Tanzania smells like, Grace Isekore closes her eyes and breathes in deep. For a moment, she’s somewhere else entirely. Tanzania is a rich tapestry of sights and scents, from the smell of sea mist that permeates the coastline to the earthy cardamom and cloves she cooks with in her kitchen. But when Grace emerges from her reverie, her answer is unexpected.
“Tanzania smells like peace,” she says, her eyes still closed. “I see a beautiful country where we are free to move, free to speak. And there is peace within the community.”
For Grace, that sense of peace isn’t just something she smells; it’s something she works toward every day. As a project coordinator with Pastoral Women’s Council (PWC), a women-led organization that empowers pastoralist communities in northern Tanzania, she has seen firsthand how girls flourish when they have the opportunity to attend school. Like scent, education not only connects girls to their own culture, but also helps broaden their horizons, realizing new possibilities for themselves and others. That transformation reshapes entire communities and ripples outward, with the potential to change countries and transform the world for the better.
Different scents, different approaches, and communities driving change
For Grace and others around the world, education is freedom, as well as a pathway to a stronger community. Rooted in that shared belief, Pura, a home fragrance company, was inspired to build on their four-year partnership with Malala Fund to create something truly unique: a fragrance collection that connects people through scent to communities in Tanzania, Nigeria, Pakistan, and Brazil, where barriers to girls’ education are among the highest.
Using ingredients from each region, the new Pura x Malala Fund Collection uses scent to transport people to these regions directly. “Future in Bloom,” for example, invokes Pakistan’s lush valleys through notes of jasmine, cedarwood, and mango; while Tanzania’s fragrance, “Heart on Fire,” evokes the spirit and joyfulness of the girls who live there through cardamom, lemon, and green tea.
The new Collection honors the work Malala Fund does every day, partnering with locally-led organizations in these four countries to ensure every girl can access and complete 12 years of education. Each scent celebrates the joy, tenacity, and courage of the women and girls driving change on the ground, while also augmenting Pura’s annual grant to Malala Fund by donating eight percent of net revenue from the Pura x Malala Fund Collection to Malala Fund directly.
Just as each country’s scent is unique, so too are their needs related to education. But with support from Malala Fund and Pura, local leaders are coming up with creative ways to mobilize entire communities (parents, teachers, elders, and the students themselves, in their pursuit of solutions, understanding that educating girls helps everyone thrive. Here’s how their efforts are creating real, durable impact in Tanzania and Pakistan, and creating a ripple effect that changes the world for the better.
Parent-teacher associations help Maasai girls and their communities in Tanzania problem-solve
Northern Tanzania, Grace’s home, is home to pastoralist communities like the Maasai, a nomadic people who have moved with the seasons to nurture the land and care for their livestock for centuries. The nomadic nature of this lifestyle creates significant and unique barriers to girls’ education. Longstanding gender roles have enabled Maasai to survive in the harsh environment and have placed great value on both women and men. Over time, as nomadic life has been threatened by the privatization of land and stationary education models have been implemented, the reality of pastoralist livelihood has shifted and introduced new complexities. Now, the sheer distance to schools is both a practical challenge and one that often comes with danger from the landscape, predators, and potential exposure to assault along the journey. Girls shoulder the responsibility of household chores and there is often cultural pressure around early marriage – both leading to boys’ education being prioritized over girls’.
“There are very, very good [pastoralist] cultural practices, which are passed from generation to generation,” says Janet Kimori, an English teacher at Lekule Girls Secondary School in Longido, Tanzania. But when cultural practices act as educational barriers, “you have to sit down and look for where you are going to assist. As a school, as an individual, the school administration—all of us will chip in and know how we are going to deal with this problem.”
PWC works to ensure girls are able to exercise their right to an education while also preserving pastoralist culture. One successful approach, the organization found, has been the formation of Parent Teacher Associations (PTAs), created with help from Malala Fund. In PTA meetings, students, parents, teachers, elders, and government officials meet, discuss educational barriers, and come up with community-led solutions that preserve and honor their culture while advancing educational outcomes.
One recent PTA meeting highlights how these community-led solutions are often the most effective. At Lekule Girls Secondary School, the lack of fresh water forces girls to walk long distances to collect water for the school’s kitchen during the school day, and these long journeys not only disrupt class time but can leave girls vulnerable to sexual assault in isolated areas. Through facilitated discussion, PTA members landed on a solution: installing a borehole to pipe in fresh water to the school. Reliable access to water creates a better learning environment for the girls, but it also benefits the community at large, as local governments are then more likely to invest in health clinics and other community resources nearby.
With a solution in place, the PTA was then able to discuss ideas and map out a course of action. The women would raise money for the cost of the borehole, while the men would recruit workers to dig the hole and lay the pipe. Together, they would ask government officials to match their investment.
The benefits of PTA meetings within the pastoralist communities are undeniable. “The girls are talking and addressing issues in a confident way, and parents feel they are part of the resource team to solve challenges happening at school,” Grace says. One unexpected benefit: The larger cultural impact these PTA meetings have created. Thanks to the success of PTAs within pastoralist communities, the models are now being endorsed on a national level, and schools across Tanzania are starting to use them to solve problems in their own communities. When a community creates opportunities for girls to learn, everyone benefits.
Safe spaces in rural Pakistan help students and their parents connect, then drive change
A continent away in Pakistan, the country’s northernmost region of Gilgit-Baltistan seems like a land untouched by time. The region’s looming mountains, snow-capped peaks, lush valleys and crystalline lakes draw nature lovers and landscape photographers from around the world, but living among this kind of breathtaking scenery has its drawbacks. Schools in the region are few and far between, and the area’s harsh climate often makes roads inaccessible for travel. Poverty and gender-based discrimination are additional obstacles, making school even further out of reach, and girls are affected disproportionately. Going up against these barriers requires a persistent, quiet strength that’s found in the women who live there and reflected in Pakistan’s signature scent.
Saheli Circles are how local leaders in Gilgit-Baltistan are bridging the gap between girls and education. An Urdu term for “female friend,” Saheli Circles are after-school safe spaces where girls explore subjects like art and climate change, while also developing skills that help them manage emotions, set goals, and build positive relationships. Girls study in groups, visit the library, play sports, and tackle filmmaking and photography projects, all designed to develop self confidence and teach the girls how to advocate for issues that matter to them. But the work........
