Attractions Experts Q&A: Fri Forjindam worked on the transformation of Paisley Park, the Minneapolis home where Prince lived and created his music

Since 2018, Forjindam has served on the Board of Trustees for Ryman Arts, a foundation that transforms lives by creating access and opportunity for a diverse community of young artists, and currently serves as co-chair for the 2025 Celebration of the Arts event on May 8, 2025, honoring Academy Award-winning Pixar Director, Domee Shi (“Bao,” “Turning Red”).

What theme park souvenir might we be surprised to find on your shelf, and what’s its story?

I travel a lot, and somewhere back in the day—I’m not sure how it started—I brought home a little elephant to my kids that they just loved. It was the cutest little porcelain figurine, and that just became the default for every time I traveled. We have accrued about 25 elephants from different parts of the world, from Rwanda to South Africa to Belgium and England. So, we now have this elephant collection, which is really special to me because there’s a lot of emotions tied to it.

Then, on the flip side, another collectible I’m really proud of is one that was earned as opposed to just an accidental ritual. Mycotoo collaborated with Jon Favreau on The Mandalorian Experience at Star Wars Celebration (a fan-centered convention), but what I didn’t realize about “con” culture is that there’s a lot of gifting that happens, like tokens of appreciation, so you get to exchange different things. It’s not really a bartering system, but it has become an informal process that’s very much tied to fandom. So, at Celebrations, different booths and studios create these mint coins specific to an individual, a season, an episode, or a show—and there’s a limited edition print of these very cool coins.

John Favreau, the show creator of “The Mandalorian,” has his own series of coins that are specific to him, which are collectibles. We were backstage as he was about to walk the floor, and looked over to me and slipped a coin into my hand. At first, I was thinking, “is he bribing me? What is happening? Why is he giving me money?” And he just said, “Thank you so much. I really appreciate what you and Mycotoo have been doing, and you’ve made this such a great experience.” Then he went off onto the floor to meet with the fans. I looked at the coin, put it in the light, and thought this wasn’t just a dime or a quarter; this is a cool collectible coin with the executive producer inscribed on it and the Mandalorian insignia. There’s only a limited number of those, and I have one.

Apparently, this is a thing people do. It’s kind of like being inside the tribe—the “if you know, you know” way of saying thank you and acknowledging people. This gift was just an awesome cultural thing that happened, and I kind of got swooped into it, but I’m really grateful I got to witness this. It’s like a secret club of people that have those. I love that.

What theme park have you always wanted to visit but have never been to? 

I definitely want to go to Ghibli Park, which is not technically a theme park but has theming inspired by the Studio Ghibli movies, and those are near and dear to my heart and to our family. Also, to see what it means to be in a park that infuses wellbeing with theming and story. And it’s Studio Ghibli–it’s Miyazaki–come on! So, I’d love to go to that.

The other park I really want to check out is the new Zootopia Land that Disney just completed. It just looks fantastic from start to finish.

And the third one hasn’t been invented yet. It’s Wakanda. But when Wakanda is built, if I’m not part of it, I certainly want to go there. It doesn’t exist, but I’m manifesting it!

Was there a theme park or attraction that made you want to be in this industry, and how did it inspire you?

I’m a proud immigrant born and raised in Cameroon, West Africa, and I’ve seen a lot of the world just by being a nomad and a curious traveler, but my very first visit to the United States was when I was five and my family visited Walt Disney World in Orlando.

I still have photos of the trip. I did not realize at the time the imprint that it would have, but it was such a transformative experience because here I was, the kid who had certainly consumed a lot of Disney contraband from my parents’ travels, with them bringing home VHS movies and me just watching and consuming all this without having anything to apply it to. That sense of magic and memory was always something I associated with these characters just by the nature of the storytelling. So, to go to a world where I could see it all happen was transformative.

The irony is that I’m terrified of coasters and scary rides—I’m not a thrill ride type of person—but the idea of world-building and being enveloped in the story is certainly what drove me into joining theater instead of becoming a doctor, much to my parent’s chagrin. Then by default, that theater, the world around you, the make-believe, eventually brought me back to theme parks. I don’t think I connected the dots at age five, but it left a lasting impression on me. I remember everything—even hugging Pluto—and the feeling of wet fur. Pluto had come to the pool at our resort for a character meet-and-greet. He was in a furry costume, and we were all wet. Everyone was tackling him to give him a hug. I don’t even know if you can do that anymore. He became a kind of a wet carpet, and I remember thinking, Pluto shouldn’t be wet!

So, I have deep memories, like looking up inside the back of the fuzzy character head and seeing an actual person because, at least in 1986, they hadn’t quite masked or clipped in the costume features. I was short enough that I could see that it was someone on the inside and I thought, wait, what? There’s a human? People are behind the scenes here!

I also remember later in 1989, seeing “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” and it blew my mind. This intersection of live action and cartoons and story. Then also going to the park—this time Disneyland—and seeing the parade with Roger Rabbit on a float talking to me, not behind a screen. I remember thinking that I wanted to be part of this forever. I wanted that feeling all the time.

I love that the intersection of make-believe and reality came together like that. And for a kid who just thrived in the “never grow up” sensibility, this was like the perfect storm. So, it was inevitable that I would come back. I took a long way through theater and other routes, but I think a lot of people can relate to this non-linear trajectory.

What was your favorite ride or attraction as a child and why?

I don’t know that I have a favorite. The reason it’s hard to answer is because my favorite wasn’t so much a ride as it was a land—Fantasyland—and I’ll say very specifically it was the moment you see the castle for the first time.

If you’re short, you really can’t see anything until you get close. That anticipation of walking towards Sleeping Beauty’s castle felt like a ride. As you’re walking towards the castle, you’re seeing all these storefronts on Main Street. Some of them are real; some of them are fake. And so, it’s starting to tell the story of how we’re getting closer and closer.

We might see Sleeping Beauty, we might see a prince, we might see a dragon. Who knows what we’re going to see? That felt like a story, like a three-act chapter. And then, of course, once you’re there (at least as a kid), it feels larger than life. It seemed like 10 stories high. And then you could choose your own chapter, your own adventure…your own freaking land!

You could go left to get into a Western past. You could go right into the future. You could go through the castle and find your favorite princess. It felt like I was playing a video game—or living a video game—and I could pick what emotion I wanted to have. That journey felt like a ride, which is why it’s always hard for me to answer that question. Because it wasn’t one ride that did it, it was more the anticipation. I love that. And the ability to have a choice. I’m guessing that’s exactly what Walt wanted to achieve.

You don’t realize how much power you have as a kid because clearly, you’re there because your parents want to give you the magic, so they’re taking a back seat to allow you to drive what that experience will be. To a certain extent, at least, that’s how it felt. There was also a sense of audacity and control, and you felt like a grown-up because this was your land; your parents were just in it. They’re there to watch you experience the park. I even think about it now when I go with my own kids. When they were younger, we waited six hours to see Elsa and Anna (that was when “Frozen” had just come out) and while we were waiting in the queue, we would take turns taking them to other attractions. But our one objective, our one job, was to meet Elsa and Anna. And once we met them, that brief yet magical encounter made the six-hour wait worth it.

Was there a ride, attraction, or character that frightened you as a child?

When I was a child, Space Mountain left an impression that wasn’t the most positive at the time, but I learned to understand and adapt and see that it wasn’t real. We’re not in outer space. We’re not going to die. We’re actually just going really fast, but it’s okay because we’re strapped in. Space Mountain was a little too high-thrill for me as a kid. It was kind of scary.

What ride or attraction do you think everyone needs to experience and why?

I wouldn’t say it’s a ride or attraction, but I think everyone needs to experience storytelling from the perspective of a different ability. And by that, I mean when we think about the things that most people take for granted—access to a ride, being able to visualize it, being able to hear it, being able to absorb the story, and everything that has been created as part of that ride. For those who can’t experience a percentage of that, and we’re talking about over 200 million people around the world, that’s a really a disconnect, and these are people who live with us; these are our family members, our loved ones, our colleagues. And I think the ability to see or experience a ride from that perspective so you can empathize is an important way to think about how we coexist in the world. Everyone should be able to understand what it means to literally walk in someone else’s shoes. And that means from a holistic standpoint.

There are experiences I’ve had that have completely blown my mind about what it means to think about design, what it means to think about inclusivity, what it means to think about representation and the narratives that we champion, and who gets to be at the table in drafting those narratives from the beginning, not as an afterthought. And I think the more focus we put on what it means to be left out of that conversation, so that we can also see what it’s like and know deeply what it’s like for any ride, for any exhibit, or any destination—

That’s what’s most important to me. So, take any ride and experience it from a different vantage point and then come out and ask yourself, what would I do differently? Knowing what I do now, what would I change if I could recreate this? That is because it would be a different experience.

If you were tasked with creating a new theme park food, what would it be?

Think about the palate. The palate is such a direct conduit to emotions and memories. We talk about eliciting emotions from the things we see and perceive, but how do you disrupt that by tapping into memories, creating a different entry point for storytelling and conversation afterward? What did it taste like for you? What does happiness taste like for you versus for me? Does happiness taste like jelly bellies for me, and it tastes like mac and cheese for you? And so that becomes a cool conversation that we could have. It creates a different entry point for dialogue.

So, to answer the question, it would need to be a hybrid like the jellybeans from Harry Potter, which have different flavors. It would be that magic on any food.

Meaning if I have a turkey leg, but I want it to taste like cotton candy, there should either be a pixie dust, a sprinkle, or a sauce or whatever that branded addition is that allows me to be able to completely flip the flavor so that it can be whatever I want it to be, magically like popcorn that tastes like seaweed. That’s what I would want.

Memories are tapped not through our actions but through the emotions associated with that action.

You’re a walk-around character for a day; who do you choose?

I would love to be Walt Disney—and dare I say, with the awareness of me now in this body, in this reality as a West African Immigrant—but walking the park as Walt Disney so that I can understand and appreciate and see people for who they are, but also appreciate the power and the access and be able to wield it in a way that also allows me to be truthful to what is important to me now.

Not the 1930s, not the 1950s, but like 2025. I want to see the park through his eyes but with the consciousness of a black woman.

What types of attractions would you like to see more of and why?

I would love to see more global attractions that highlight culture and heritage in a way that is nuanced and not reductive.

Theme parks are an interesting space because you need to be able to elicit an emotional response immediately. There’s a certain level of distilling and reduction that has to happen. Like the first impressions that come to mind, we certainly want to highlight those, but then, with more deep diving and more time, you can unfold and unlock characters and spaces musically, acoustically, and all the rest.

There are first impressions that you need to be able to hit. And that’s really easy to do with closed characters or ecosystems. But when you’re talking about regions, about heritage, about journey and travel and culture, which a lot of parks also want to inform, they’re using that as the canvas and the container for some of these rides and attractions that sometimes can get lost to the noise because you’re just going straight for the low hanging fruit.

I would love to see more nuance in theming. I would love to see more invitations for people to deep dive into, affect the world around them, and add to it. Sometimes theater of the mind is way more powerful than actually showing you what it is that you need to see.

And maybe that means a redefinition of theme parks. For example, what would it look like if you were in a queue and in some spaces you could see props on display and textured walls or rockwork or what have you, and then are there negative spaces, empty spaces that aren’t themed, that are just more of a soundscape that allows you to be able to fill in the look and feel based on how sound design can also allow that to happen? Are there ways of using technology to affect the outcome of the dark ride, to affect the way a character is going to interact with you? And we’re starting to see that now, even with autonomous ride systems.

Is there a way for that feeling of affectation or me being able to change things or inform some of it just by existing in the space, by being tracked, or whatever. Are there ways for me to also use my imagination and my presence to affect the ride? I think there are adaptations and technology that allow us to do that in different ways. I would love to be able to see that thought through as part of our ride from beginning to end.

What is the oddest or coolest job you’ve had in your career?

I would say this is something that was accidental, but in hindsight, it became so much of who I am today. When I first moved to LA, I got a job as an entry-level assistant at a theme park design company—and that was a pivotal moment. I learned a lot, but I left to go on maternity leave because I was expecting my first child. This was in 2008, during the recession, so not a good time to be out of work. When the time came to return to work, I chose not to because I felt it was time to transition.

I knew that if I went back, I might not have that chance again, so I figured I would go out there and figure it out. I was on maternity leave and bored out of my mind at home with an infant. I’m naturally wired to move, ideate, make, and just have a purpose, but somehow, being a single parent didn’t quite fulfill that for me, so I decided to start a blog. And that blog was a retrospect on the wedding lessons I just learned from my own experience. I had just gotten married to my husband, who’s Irish American, and I am Cameroonian, at an intercultural, interracial wedding in Hawaii.

There were so many firsts for us, for our families, and things we wanted to do from an experience standpoint, but there was no reference point for how to do it, so I created a blog to start talking about that experience. And that blog grew into a multicultural magazine publication with over 250,000 unique subscribers. This was me at home as a mom, just blogging, and it grew into a magazine. It grew into print publications that I learned how to distribute. And it was fantastic. I featured other multicultural weddings and was flown to different resorts to play test and review new property amenities. I became an influencer without realizing it (before influencers were even a term). I started learning about audience engagement, brand messaging, and monetizing your ideas into deliverables, products and curated storytelling via print publications.

I started understanding what it means to grow relationships with different partners and incorporate them in a way that tells their story. Many of the vendors and places I featured have now become top-tier wedding locations, and I realized there’s power in the story, there’s power in audience engagement, there’s power in niche narratives, and not trying to be something for everyone, but really saying what is important. How are you different from the bride’s magazines or all these other major publications? And it was really powerful to have that voice and be at the forefront of conversations that now are commonplace. What does it feel like to be represented? What does it mean to really talk about representation across the spectrum, not just for one focus group?And then what does it mean to be authentic and unique in your voice and then to trust that, to grow?

When Mycotoo started, I realized Mycotoo is a space where I can actually take all of these soft skills that I learned and apply them in a way that comes back to my first love, which is world-building, design, relationships, and integrated storytelling. I could do it at scale, and I could do it in a physical environment, not just in a quarterly publication. And that was really compelling to me.

Was there any challenge or surprise in your career?

In my current role as chief development officer, I’m constantly looking at strategic partnerships and new business opportunities while fostering the relationships we currently have. Obviously, I’m making sure our team is armed with as much opportunity to succeed in the kinds of projects that we pursue so that their expertise is leveraged in the right way–our passions should align. And that is just based on if we have control.

But then there are things that we have no control over, which is where the industry is headed. Our fans, audiences, and consumers, what they’re expecting when they come to our projects, our experiences, and our parks. Also, what do our partners, who are the owners, the operators, the investors, and the developers, expect when they’re going down the path of entertainment development and creating world-class experiences?

So, for me personally, the challenge is reconciling all of those things. What is the return on investment, return on impact, and return on impulse? Finding that feeling of spontaneity, freshness, and newness, so it doesn’t just feel like the same thing again and again. All those things are really important.

It’s a welcome challenge but certainly an important aspect not to be taken for granted. The minute we do—the minute I feel comfortable in a new project—that’s the minute we become extinct because we’re relying on old habits, existing technology, and methodology, and we never want to do that. That’s what keeps you fresh, but that’s also what keeps you competitive, and that’s what keeps our partners coming back again and again. So, we always have to balance all those things, which is really important to me personally as a business owner and certainly also as a company culture, making sure we balance creative vision and business acumen. It’s a challenge, but certainly a welcome one.

Can you talk about what you are working on these days?

I can’t, but I will share some that have been announced.

We’re working on the Peppa Pig Theme Park, which is really exciting, and our European office is doing a bunch of really fun stuff. Most notably, Nickelodeon Land at Mirabilandia in Italy (and a couple of other things that we can’t talk about yet), but what I’m excited to say about them is that they continue to cement our understanding of start to finish and beyond – meaning understanding IP development, branding, and concept development all the way to opening day.

Since we opened Dig It in Torrance, the inside knowledge of operations for the last three years and doing it successfully now allows us to be a differentiator as we think about some of our projects for the IPs that come to us (or even non-IPs) where developers are looking to us to help them think about long term entertainment destinations.

Dig It is an indoor STEM-based kids’ playground that Mycotoo owns and operates. We opened it in Southern California in the Del Amo Fashion Center, and it really came from a place of putting your money where your mouth is. When you talk about responsible design and the commercial impact that indoor and outdoor entertainment experiences can have, you have to be able to talk and walk the walk. So, we opened Dig It because it’s very much aligned with how we approach play. It’s STEM, so it’s enrichment.

What that allowed us to do was become a really strong benchmark within the community where Dig It has become a repeat destination for many families, including foster families and children and families on the spectrum, looking for inclusive spaces where sensory-based play and safety are top priorities.

There can still be ways to create a safe environment that empowers your staff and allows your audience, in this case, kids, to feel like their own heroes of the space. That also makes parents feel like they aren’t being nickeled and dimed and have a safe space to work or relax while their kids are off playing. All of those things are mutually important.

You are going to your favorite theme park or destination; which industry people (dead or alive) are you taking with you?

Prince! Mycotoo was fortunate to be engaged for the transformation of Paisley Park, Prince’s home, where he lived and created work from 1986 until his death in 2016. After he passed, they went through a few massive transformations.

When we were brought in to do that, I was executive creative, and the irony was not lost on me that I was there only because Prince wasn’t. So, every night when I went to sleep, I never cared so much about what the estate was worried about or what the audiences would want because fans are all over the place. I was always asking myself, what would Prince have wanted? Am I doing this right? Am I meeting the bar, the impossible bar that he set? I will never know that answer, but I would have loved to walk that space with him as a soft opening, just him and I, and let him give me notes. Give me all the notes. Then, give me 24 hours to turn it around and implement it. I would have loved that.

It’s hallowed ground, but it’s also so magical in terms of its history. There was certainly a lot of reverence and respect in working with the estate, but what a learning and growth moment to be able to walk the floor just with him, quietly, and say nothing and just listen to him through every space and give me notes. That’s one day I think I would love.