How to Honor the Universe
By Daniel Lee
Monique Henry has always been a creative at heart, from making floor plans to writing stories. But she spent years doing what she was told — going to college and becoming a successful civil and environmental engineer — only to feel empty on the other side of that relative success.
“This is the kind of impact that I want to have on people.”
One evening at a packed, old-time standalone theater in 2019 changed everything for Monique. Within two years of that pivotal night, she had left her career behind, moved to Los Angeles, and founded What We Watch: a platform dedicated to empowering filmmakers and storytellers at every level.
To call Monique’s story a fairy tale about following your dreams would be a huge disservice. This journey took a Black Panamanian child of immigrant parents through dark feelings of emptiness to build an entertainment empire that empowers the next generation of artists.
Her story is about honoring the compulsions that burn inside you and not needing permission to chase what others may view as impractical.
In this conversation, Mo opens up about her third annual film festival, her game show, the importance of doing what you say you’ll do, and why the journey matters more than the destination.
Note: This interview was edited for length and clarity. You can find the full video interview here.
As an engineer in 2019, how did watching the movie Parasite change you?
It changed my entire life, let’s put it that way. I watched that film in a room full of people; it was one of those really beautiful old-time standalone theaters where it’s just one screen. And it was about 200 of us in this huge theater. And we all walked out in silence, with our jaws to the floor. And I was like, “This is the kind of impact that I want to have on people.”
In engineering, we have these pillars. The number one pillar is to hold paramount the safety of the public. No one thinks about that, though, unless you actually go to school and work to be in this industry.
And so I’ve always kind of felt a responsibility to the public and to people, but I never felt like I was making an impact. Everything you do every day is possible because of people like us, right? But no one spends time thinking about them. But I was like, wow, I could make movies. That’s how I could really make an impact.
And I was kind of at a dead end with my career, my happiness, and my goals. And so Parasite gave me a rebirth, really.
So you were at a dead end, and you say to yourself, “Okay, I gotta get out of here.” What was that thought process like?
So I watch this movie. The anniversary of Parasite’s release date [October 2019] is something that I celebrate, actually. But then the pandemic was announced in like December 2019, I believe. And then it was official in March 2020.
The pandemic really isolated us, and so it was very easy for me to kind of lock in into what I wanted to do. The world doesn’t even know what’s going on right now. So let’s lock in and figure it out.
And I’m very structured because I’m an engineer. I’ve done things like construction timelines, design timelines, phases, and reverse scheduling — all this kind of stuff — my entire career. So I said, “All right, we gotta get the money right.” My money was already very well, which kind of eliminated a lot of the difficulty that comes with relocating to a different state.
Then I was like, “Ok, we gotta start making movies. I think we’re supposed to make movies in LA. All right, how do I go from living in Dallas to living in LA?” And that’s November 2019. By July 2021, I was living in L.A.
When you want to do a thing and it’s really burning inside of you and every day you wake up and you can’t get out of your head, you gotta do it. And that’s just how I honor the universe, God, whatever you want to call it. That’s how I honor that within me.
Very dope. I will say that, to your point, I don't know if he still does this, but once LeBron is in the playoffs, there was a time when he would announce on Instagram or whatever that he’s going zero dark 30. Like you will not hear from me until the playoffs are over, you know? So there's work that is put in prior, but then there's also the, “I'm going to lock myself in a room, metaphorically speaking, until I do what I say I'm going to do.”
So I understand where you're coming from, where it's like you locked in and this is what came of it. That is kind of hard to explain to people because there was no playbook before you did that. And so it's hard to give the playbook when you're doing it versus writing it.
I think those are the most valuable people. Growing up, I thought teachers were the most valuable human beings on the planet. Professors, teachers, whatever. Because, to me, most of the time, you’re not a master until you can teach and show someone else.
And I think that’s where it’s like, I’m not a master yet. I’m still in it. Can I tell you how to do it? Not quite yet. But maybe one day I will be able to. And I think now that I’m in this space, I know I’m not the first one to transition.
So now I’m finding like-minded people. And I think if I could piece together all of our information and find patterns, maybe I can tell you how to transition, stay in that flow state, and continue down this path despite all of your obstacles. But right now, all I can say is you just gotta do it and you gotta fail and you gotta do it again, and you can’t be afraid of it. I mean, you can be afraid of failing, but you do it anyway.
So I was in a very dark place. I’d kind of been at my wits’ end with my career. And at that point, I had done what everyone told me to do. And again, my mathematical brain, I’m like, “ok, if I do everything that I was told, I should feel this. This should be like this input, this output.”
Everyone was so proud of me, and I felt nothing. And I mean, being in the pandemic didn’t help it, but I’d felt it before, right? And it was just like … this is what y’all wanted me to work for? This? This sucks. If I had known this seven years ago, I would’ve never done this shit. Like, this is crazy.
And I think that when you’re in very dark places and you kind of do everything you’re told to do and not what’s burning inside of you, you can really get on the wrong path. And it’s very hard to find your way back. And I am a child of divorced parents. But my parents did not divorce until I left for college.
So I kind of always felt an obligation to my immigrant family to be the engineer — to be the successful, smart STEM girl. And I was like, “Well, what if I was encouraged to just write when I was younger? What if I were encouraged to just follow my heart? Where would I be right now?”
These are just psychological questions and hypotheticals. But I said, well, if I can’t do that for myself, then I’m going to do it for other people. I’m going to ensure that the 12-year-old who just enjoys reading and writing can have access, be uplifted, and affirmed in that endeavor. They should know that they can be successful in the fine arts, humanities, and entertainment industry if they want to. You don’t have to be a STEM girl for your family to be proud of you.
And I know that’s where my nonprofit branch has been able to come to fruition and make an impact on people, and let them know that they can do this
"You're going to sound insane to most people. And most people are not going to support you because the world is not very kind to the fine arts and humanities of it all. But art will survive us. So someone has to make it." - Monique Henry
I tell people I had to crawl out of a hole. I had to claw and crawl my way out. It was not pretty, it was not sexy. I would not recommend it if you’re not ready. You know what I mean? Cause it is very difficult. Yes, you can want it, but it is going to hurt. If you can imagine just crawling and clawing out of a deep hole. It’s raining, it’s muddy, there are bugs everywhere, you ain’t got no water, you’re thirsty, but you just keep climbing like, I see it, I’m gonna get out, I’m gonna get out of this hole.
And that’s how it felt getting to LA. And then it’s like, once you get out of that hole and you’re like, all right, you can dust yourself off, you’re still not done. It’s like, okay, now what do you do? Now you’re out of this hole. And you can look back at the hole and be like, damn, I’m glad I got out. But now you gotta work in a different way.
Maybe you can go grab some water now. But I just wanted to make sure that that was clear in my journey. We always kind of skim over that. It’s like, no, let’s talk about how you got here. And it’s like that. It was dark, man. It’s so easy to talk about it now, but it wasn’t easy then. And I don’t ever want to forget how difficult that was and is.
You just hosted your third film festival. How did you come up with the idea for that? Like, I'm gathering so far that you're in your flow state, you're doing the things, more things are coming from doing the things. Was this another thing that came from doing the things?
Click here for more details about what we watch film festivals!
So now I’m gonna take you out of the flow state. My film festival … not flow state, at all, whatsoever. Not a fan of the work that goes into creating a film festival. Big fan of my work, I know the impact it makes. But it’s a lot of work behind it. I do not recommend.
But I started by hosting a digital show. That was the crux of my getting out of my dark place. I think I was hosting Clubhouse rooms probably daily, if not, like three to four times weekly. And that was the only thing we could do during the pandemic to bring people together, right? Shout out to Clubhouse.
And everyone missed it when it stopped. I was transitioning, moving into LA, deep in my work as an artist myself. They’re like, “Well, when is the next What We Watch? When’s the next digital show?” And I got paid to do that monthly with Twitter Spaces. And I was like, “All right, well, how do I keep doing this?”
I went to a couple of film festivals and thought, “Why don’t I bring the conversation to life by doing a film festival to highlight independent artists instead of just talking about the work we see on television every day?” So that’s how it came about.
I had thousands of people join my rooms. And it was just like, well, now we’re all excited to be outside again. We want to be in person. How do I do this? Ok, come to this event. You’ll mingle and we’ll talk about film all day. And you’ll hear the artists talk about it too. I didn’t have to reinvent the wheel. I just had to make it my own. A nice rim on it and stuff. Make it shiny.
And if I may toot my own horn, I think it is so incredible that me, a black Panamanian woman engineer from Dallas, just came to LA and people want to submit their work to her film festival. Like that’s crazy. So I get to sit down and watch everybody’s pieces of art, including some of my friends, and really kind of critique it.
I have hundreds of films that have been submitted over three years. The first year, I think it was like 45. The second year was lower because it was after the strike, so it wasn’t as many, and that was a good thing. It was like 40. But then last year it was like 65. So it’s just hundreds of pieces that we’ve reviewed, and we’ve been able to showcase at least 30 of them.
And so it’s just a lot of work. You’re taking care of so many people. I have a liquor sponsor, so we have drinks and snacks. It’s a very highly curated, intimate event. And it takes all of me. It takes every bit of me and rips it apart. And then on the day, they all come back together. That’s it. And then I cry my eyes out after every film festival.
What did that feel like, though? You cried your eyes out for hours. Like you're out of your own body and you're watching yourself put this together like, “damn, that's me.”
I truly believe that the journey is more important than the destination because the destination is a snap of a finger. Time isn’t real, and I truly believe that. Because if you ever create a thing for years, months, whatever it is, right, a movie can take up to years to make. Once you show your movie and it’s your opening weekend, that’s it. That’s it.
Once you have your film festival, those hours go by so fast. And it feels like a moment. And if you rely on that moment, you will never want to do anything again. It’s kind of like the opposite of if you talk to women who have ever given birth, they’ll tell you God makes you forget about the pain so that you’ll do it again.
It’s very much the opposite of that with art, I think. I think you have to remember all the work, beauty, and pain that goes into it. Because if you just rely on the time you win an award, it’s a very fleeting moment. It passes by so fast, and, speaking for myself, it’s not fulfilling enough.
But when I think about the work and the impact and my team and every filmmaker that’s like, “wow, you just changed my entire life,” then I’m like, okay, this is worth doing it again. But if you’re chasing that gold medal, Noah Lyles wins the medal, and he puts it in his room and then, you know, life continues. So you have to really be grounded in the work.
I will say it’s hard for me to talk about how I feel on the day of the film festival. I do enter my flow state each of those days. I couldn’t tell you what’s happening. I don’t even know how I’m being perceived. I don’t think about it, right? LeBron and Kobe don’t think about what people are seeing when they get on the court. I don’t really know the stats. I just know how I felt in there, and I was just locked in. But the feeling after is a sense of relief.
Earlier in the summer, you filmed a game show, the 10/15 Challenge. How did you come up with the concept for that?
Man, I tweeted this, I believe. I thought of my game show after I had my first film festival. And it came out May 2025. Again, I be telling people, I’m gonna do what I say I’m gonna do. I’m just glad we’re able to infiltrate the podcast world, make it really, really fun and exciting, and get people to wanna win.
For better or worse, I am around extremely competitive people. And they all wanna win, and I like that hunger. So, it’s been a really fun journey. We’re recording the tournament here within the next month, so I’m very excited. You heard it here first: the 10/15 tournament with the first five guests is coming. We’ll see who the champion is.
Watch and Subscribe to The 10/15 challenge here
If you could choose, is there anything that you would have done differently?
I think my answer is no. The thing I would do differently is something I had no control over. And I think when you are creative at heart and in the depths of your soul — oh my God — so many things can be different. But you kind of relinquish a lot of the control that you have in the world. I think that’s what I’m able to create most beautifully when I realize that I have no control over anything or anyone.
So the thing I would change is when I begin. I wish I had jumped into this a lot sooner. But I also simultaneously believe that I jumped in at the perfect time.
That's a great answer. I mean, for Clubhouse to have kind of been sort of a jumpstart, you know, like what other thing would have made Clubhouse what it became?
And this is why I pray a lot now. I don’t want to be devastated by needing to make a change. Don’t put me in the deep hole. Let me make changes outside of the deep hole. So yeah, Clubhouse got big because the world was struggling. I don’t want the world to struggle for there to be a rebirth, or an improvement, or a step forward. Sometimes that’s what it takes, though. A lot of times, that’s what it takes. So it’s scary.
But yeah, I wish I could have started earlier. But what would have made me start earlier? I was making money. I was doing everything I was told to do. What would have made me lock in? Who knows?
What are you most proud of?
Me. I’m proud of myself. I’m getting emotional right now, my God. There are one billion reasons not to continue. Every day, there are at least 10 reasons not to continue this. And for some delusional, sick reason, I continue to do it.
And I’m very proud of myself because you don’t get an award every day. You don’t get “I loved your film festival” every day. You know, don’t get to show your movie on a screen every day. That’s just like a couple of things. You don’t get to talk to Sterling K. Brown every day.
It’s like, why do I keep doing this? But you have to find something deep within you. And I think that’s what I’m most proud of. I always remember my why. And I’m always in a state of gratitude.
What’s next for you?
What We Watch is never stopping. Right now, I’m doing a really cool thing. I have a Hispanic Heritage Month series. I have a daily Hispanic Heritage Month facts, where I bridge facts about myself as a Latina, but also about the culture and what we kind of talk about and experience in Hispanic communities. So I love that. So make sure you’re tapped into that on social media, on Instagram, Twitter, all of that good stuff.
Then I have a movie coming out. I mean, it’s still in pre-pro[duction]. We’re still writing. But, as I said, I do the things I say I’m gonna do. So when you see my movie in a year or two, I said this was happening. Stay tuned for our next film festival.
I also have an incredible app. As a Latina, a lot of times there’s just never enough space for us. So I have to create it. And that’s what I did with this app. It’s the What We Watch app. Built from those conversations in Clubhouse, those conversations in Twitter Spaces, and from my film festival, and just really kind of bringing it into this amazing mobile app where the conversation will always continue. Film and TV will never die. Theaters will never die. So all of that is coming. I’m very excited.
Click to learn more about What We Watch
Written by Daniel Lee
Founder/CEO of The Monach Brand
Daniel is also the co-founder of the ATP Writer’s Club. Click here for more Creator Spotlight articles.






