Lessons learned from Small Town Universe: A post-screening conversation with Katie Dellamaggiore

Following CSML’s screening of Small Town Universe, I sat down with filmmaker Katie Dellamaggiore to discuss the documentary and the work behind it. Set in Green Bank, West Virginia, the film follows four residents whose lives are shaped by the Green Bank Telescope (GBT) and the restrictions that protect it from wireless interference. With public funding uncertain, the film considers what the telescope’s survival means for both science and the surrounding community.

One of the things I kept thinking about during the screening was how the film connects a major scientific facility to the everyday lives of the people who live around it. The story raises questions not only about radio astronomy, but also about community identity, public investment, access to science, and how funding decisions ultimately affect people.

After the screening, I had many questions. I asked Dellamaggiore about the project’s origins, how its characters and story took shape, the surprises and challenges that emerged during production, and the resources required to complete the film. I also wanted to understand how audiences and educators are engaging with it, what responses and partnerships have grown around it, and most importantly, the evidence being collected to document the impact of the documentary. The audience also joined in with some questions.

Below is a visulation of the post-screening conversation transcript, edited for clarity and length.

Fanuel Muindi

What first drew you to Green Bank, and how did the telescope, the landscape, and the people there begin to shape the story you wanted to tell?

Katie Dellamaggiore

Okay, I was drawn to this place for some reason, but I didn’t really know what the shape or form of the story would be. When I got there, I was struck by the nature of the place, the farmland, with this telescope right in the middle, and the juxtaposition of high technology and big questions in a rural environment. The beauty of it struck me right away. It takes really complex scientific ideas and boils them down to simple things we can all relate to, like nature and science in daily life, which is what Donny does in the film. I went down there wanting to understand what the telescope did because I had no background in it. As they described radio astronomy to me, I thought, “This is freaking fascinating. I never learned about this in school.”

We all emit radio waves. We’re all bodies in space giving off radio waves, so of course you can detect radio waves from planets and celestial bodies, but I didn’t know that. The faintest signals these telescopes can capture are signals from the Big Bang, and those radio waves are still floating around us. I thought that was freaking amazing: that energy doesn’t die. I think I mentioned earlier that my mom had just died, so I was thinking about loss: what loss is, what you can see, and what you can’t. On one of my first trips, I met George. He was very forthcoming and shared right away that he had cancer and was dying. Because I was in that space myself and wanted to talk with someone at that stage of life, I was very open to it, and he was too.

It became clear that the film could take on a personal framing around loss, life, and what it all means. In this place, how do these characters think about their own lives in relation to what’s happening? Even if they don’t articulate it exactly in the film, I imagined their everyday curiosities and losses juxtaposed with the bigger questions being asked at the telescope.

We all emit radio waves. We’re all bodies in space giving off radio waves, so of course you can detect radio waves from planets and celestial bodies, but I didn’t know that. Everything is giving off energy all the time, and if we have the right technology to intercept and analyze that energy, it can tell us how far things are, how old they are, and what they’re made of. But it’s all invisible. It’s not the kind of astronomy everyday people like me are used to, where you can say, “Show me the picture. Show me what that planet looks like.” But we need radio astronomy to make the pictures; the pictures don’t happen without it. The idea that radio astronomy can look into the past was fascinating to me.

The faintest signals these telescopes can capture are signals from the Big Bang, and those radio waves are still floating around us. I thought that was freaking amazing: that energy doesn’t die. I think I mentioned earlier that my mom had just died, so I was thinking about loss: what loss is, what you can see, and what you can’t. On one of my first trips, I met George. He was very forthcoming and shared right away that he had cancer and was dying. Because I was in that space myself and wanted to talk with someone at that stage of life, I was very open to it, and he was too. It became clear that the film could take on a personal framing around loss, life, and what it all means.

In this place, how do these characters think about their own lives in relation to what’s happening? Even if they don’t articulate it exactly in the film, I imagined their everyday curiosities and losses juxtaposed with the bigger questions being asked at the telescope.

Fanuel Muindi

Take us back to that moment. You had made a connection with George, and Ellie came along somewhere along the way. As those pieces came together, what did you do next? Did you approach a funder, or did you just start filming?

Katie Dellamaggiore

So first, we had to get clearance and approval from the people at the telescope, because if we couldn’t film there, we had no film. We met with Karen, who was the director at the time, and Mike, who appears in the film. They said, “Great, we love it. You can film here as long as you follow these rules.” Once we had that, I set off into town, which is what I typically do when I have a story idea: meet people and talk to them. I went to the general store and the library, and someone would say, “Talk to so-and-so. Go talk to so-and-so.” I met a lot of people and looked for those who might open up on film and whose story could be one piece of the puzzle. George represented the older generation.

I met Ellie a couple of months later, when someone told me about this young woman and her mother doing advocacy work for the telescope. I thought it was great: George was exiting as his career came to an end, while Ellie’s was just taking flight. Donny owns the general store, so you can’t not meet him. He took us to his farm one day and showed us his cows and other animals. I realized he was the piece that grounded the story in the place itself and in the history of families living in Green Bank. There’s also another character, Sue, in the 90-minute version. Green Bank has a large community of people who want to live off the grid, including some who experience electromagnetic hypersensitivity. Sue is one of them.

They’ve found a community where they can live without being surrounded by technology 24/7. It came together slowly. You meet one person, then another. After eight or nine months, we thought, “Okay, I think this is the cast of characters.” Then you have to go with your gut and hope you made the right decision.

Fanuel Muindi

And what about support for the film? Where did you find it?

Katie Dellamaggiore

Support? Early on, we received development money from Catapult, a funder in the documentary space that helps filmmakers get started on an idea. It was a small amount, but it made a difference. It allowed us to do the first shoot, come back with footage, pull together selects, and show people what we were making. Then you try to leverage that into a little more money, maybe another $10,000, so you can return and film again. You do that three or four times and hope it leads to one large grant. For us, the large grant never came. We kept raising money in small amounts, just enough to go back. We also kept costs down with a very small crew. It was me, a local sound person, and a director of photography. That was it.

Fanuel Muindi

Because you went on multiple trips, right?

Katie Dellamaggiore

We went two or three times a year for about three years. Then COVID hit, and we didn’t return for that entire year. At that point, we thought we had what we needed, but we weren’t sure, so we went back one last time.

We went two or three times a year for about three years. Then COVID hit, and we didn’t return for that entire year. At that point, we thought we had what we needed, but we weren’t sure, so we went back one last time. In 2021, my husband and I took our kids, rented a house, and lived in Green Bank for a month. It was good to walk the walk and ask: Can I actually live here? It’s one thing to say how magical it is to have no cell phones; we experienced it ourselves for a short time.

Fanuel Muindi

Did anything change along the way? Were there moments when your assumptions shifted and you realized you needed to change direction?

Katie Dellamaggiore

All the time. Creatively, you don’t know the final form or shape, especially with documentaries like this, where you follow people over a long period. There’s no script. The balance among the characters, how their stories interweave, and where those stories will end are constantly changing. We didn’t go in knowing exactly what the film would look like. If I went back to some early cuts, they would probably look nothing like what you just screened. We also realized that the film needed to include some learning. We didn’t begin by saying this would be a film where people learn radio astronomy, but it felt like a disservice to ask people to watch without helping them understand the science.

Working with our animator to boil those concepts down into short vignettes was really effective. We’ve screened the film at universities and in introductory astronomy classes. Teachers tell us those vignettes are useful and that they want to show the film in class. It gives them a tool for opening the subject up to students.

Fanuel Muindi

You’ve been screening the film for a while now. What keeps bubbling up from those screenings in terms of impact, especially in what teachers and other viewers are telling you?

Katie Dellamaggiore

It runs the spectrum. Some people say, “I didn’t expect to cry while watching a film about a telescope,” or leave sweet comments about the beauty of the universe. That makes me happy, because if people don’t feel anything, we haven’t done our job. Others respond strongly to the funding question: Why are we taking money away from projects, especially in rural West Virginia, where there is so little to begin with? People are activated by the citizen-science aspect, and many are inspired by Ellie, her journey, and how she grew into someone so confident and self-assured. It’s a tricky film, and it isn’t for everyone. No film should be for everyone, though everyone should go see The Odyssey.

What I value about this film is that it offers different entry points. People who know and love the science catch everything, including small Carl Sagan jokes. People who don’t can still relate to Ellie as a young person figuring out what she wants to do and losing a mentor. Or they may have had a parent go through what George was experiencing. There are many ways into the story.

Fanuel Muindi

I like what you said about multiple entry points. One moment that spoke to me was the public meeting, when someone asked, “What do you think you’re going to make of our world should this funding be cut?” The human connection there is so powerful.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Right. I didn’t pay attention to federal budgets before making this film. Now I’m much more aware of what is being cut and what is happening with NASA and NSF. Maybe I’m more plugged in because of the film; I wonder whether I would have followed it as closely ten years ago. It’s hard to explain in a social-media post what a federal budget decision means for a real group of people living near a lab, telescope, or any other project represented by a line item. Those decisions affect real families and real people, especially in rural communities. We know why astronomy and the advancement of human knowledge matter, but we don’t always realize how directly these decisions affect people’s daily lives. I hope the film shows that.

Fanuel Muindi

And you capture that with Ellie. Young people can connect with her, and now she’s a graduate student and a science communicator. We were able to watch the birthing of a science communicator, right?

Katie Dellamaggiore

She truly is. She can boil things down into simple terms while keeping you captivated. Even when we talk with her on the phone now, she explains things in a way that makes me feel I can understand without feeling self-conscious. Ellie says in the film that this wasn’t easy for her. When her mentor explained things, she had to Google every word and figure it out. People without a science background can shut down when something feels overwhelming. A science communicator’s gift is saying, “Of course you can understand this, and I’m going to show you how.” I appreciate being called a science communicator, even though I don’t naturally think of myself that way. Making the film probably does make me one.

I didn’t read Carl Sagan when I was younger, but now I see how he grounded complex ideas in real human emotion and understanding. That’s the gift. I hope your community does that too. It helps people see that science isn’t only something to understand; it’s something you can feel.

Fanuel Muindi

And participate in it, right? There’s that quick line about the citizen-science project connected with the GBT, a way for the public to help analyze the data being collected. How are you building on that now?

Katie Dellamaggiore

We’re now working with the Society of Amateur Radio Astronomers, or SARA. They have a build-your-own radio telescope kit, and we want to package it in an appealing way with clear, easy-to-understand instructions. The kit uses materials you can buy on Amazon. A ham-radio operator might know immediately how to assemble it in a garage, but if students are going to build it in a classroom, it needs to be user-friendly. We want to create a telescope-in-a-box that a teacher can use with students after they watch the film, so they can build the small loop antenna themselves.

Fanuel Muindi

That also gives science teachers a way to use the film. I want to make sure I get to a question from Jesse in the chat: Do you know what has happened with GBO’s funding?

Katie Dellamaggiore

Let me share my screen. Ellie and her mom started an organization called Go Green Bank, and they’ve been organizing and advocating for the observatory from the very beginning. Thank God for them. This is an information page they created. Due to drastic proposed cuts to the NSF’s budget, the 2027 draft budget proposes reducing GBO’s funding from $10 million to $3 million, which would essentially decommission and disposition it, shutting it down. They have calls to action for reaching out to Congress. This proposed 2027 NSF budget cut is worse than last year’s. The same thing happened last year, and somehow Congress found short-term solutions that kept it funded. But now the funding is threatened again.

It’s the same battle every year, and they’re back where they started. I’m no expert, but as far as I can tell, there simply isn’t enough funding for these instruments. It isn’t because they don’t matter or aren’t doing worthwhile work. We have to decide that putting more funding into the NSF is a priority.

It’s unfortunate because the town hall meeting in the film was about ten years ago. We thought, “This is the worst-case scenario.” But that was only the beginning.

It keeps happening over and over again.

Fanuel Muindi

And as you mentioned with Ellie, they celebrated that small win at the time, until the next funding fight came along.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Until the next one comes along.

Fanuel Muindi

It sounds like the challenge is still ongoing.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Sadly, if the telescope finds replacement funding, it may come from a private entity. I’m not an expert on this, and many private organizations are funding space and space travel. But if a private organization funds the Green Bank Telescope, the open-skies time available to citizens, doctoral students, and basic researchers could disappear because that time isn’t profitable. If an individual bought the telescope or leased all of its time, they would likely want to use it for a more commercial endeavor.

Fanuel Muindi

There’s so much more we could discuss, but one thing the film clearly does is build awareness of citizen science, of these budgets, and of what’s happening behind them. Taking action begins with awareness.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Right. Or you could begin in your own town or city. It may be a lot to expect people to know what’s happening in rural West Virginia, but becoming more aware of what is on the chopping block in your own city or state is a place to start.

Fanuel Muindi

The film weaves together the radio astronomy and the human story of what is happening locally. Someone in the chat is asking: How can they see the full version? Is there a place to watch it?

Katie Dellamaggiore

Soon. First, our email address is on the website, so you’re welcome to contact us if you want to book the film for a virtual or in-person screening. You can also follow us on social media or sign up for our newsletter. I promise we send only about one every two months, with updates on streaming. The film will be on streaming platforms, but probably not for a few months because we want to finish the tour before putting it on Apple, Amazon, and the other platforms. For now, the newsletter or social media is the best way to stay up to date.

Fanuel Muindi

And the link you’re talking about is smalltownuniversefilm.com, right?

Katie Dellamaggiore

Just go to the website, and you’ll find everything you need there. Hopefully, in three or four months, the 90-minute film will be available on demand.

Fanuel Muindi

You have an impact manager, is that right? Was that support something you secured after the film was finished?

Katie Dellamaggiore

After the film completed its festival screenings and PBS broadcast, we began receiving screening requests. I knew I didn’t have the bandwidth to manage them alone, so I hired an intern who is now working on the film. Together, we imagined what it would look like to take the film on the road and how much money we would need. We developed a proposal, and someone at the West Virginia Film Commission introduced us to the West Virginia Country Roads Angel Network, which invests in West Virginia-based projects. We gave them a full, live pitch for the impact campaign, and they invested $75,000. That allowed us to hire an impact coordinator, build the website, manage social media, and support the other work we had no funding for.

It’s also why I’m here with you now: I have someone helping me get the word out and bring the film to more people. I knew the film wasn’t done. It had already reached many people, but there were still many more I wanted to reach. Tomorrow, for example, we’re screening at the EcoTarium, a planetarium in Worcester, Massachusetts. Opportunities like that are possible because of the impact campaign.

Fanuel Muindi

I like what you said: it’s never really finished, right? You’re still tracking impact, and that impact happens long after the film is finished.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Oh, 100%

Fanuel Muindi

Long after the film is done.

Katie Dellamaggiore

You don’t know. You may begin with calls to action or impact goals, but screenings are where people tell you what the impact actually is. We’re still learning what people take away and what they feel moved to do. Someone might call a member of Congress. Someone else might contact an old science teacher and ask whether they want to screen the film. The action can be small, and it will be different for everyone. That’s why the survey asks what people feel inspired to do after seeing the story.

Fanuel Muindi

Sean asks: The film captures what can happen when a major scientific facility becomes woven into a town’s identity over generations. Looking back at Green Bank, what built that genuine local ownership?

Katie Dellamaggiore

The people who live in town also work at the observatory. They work in the gift shop and machine shop, help paint the telescope in the summer, and fill many other roles. The film mentions more than 150 jobs, and that number has grown. In a small town, 200 jobs don’t affect only 200 employees. Each job supports a family, and those families have children and ties throughout the community. The effect webs outward. At church, you may sit next to the person who works in the observatory’s control room and moves the telescope. Different slices of life sit side by side. That’s how the observatory becomes woven into the community.

Fanuel Muindi

What were some of the hardest parts of making the film? What kept coming up for you, and if you could go back, what do you wish had been different?

Katie Dellamaggiore

Making a film like this over a long period without guaranteed funding is incredibly hard. You keep hoping and praying that you’ll reach the end and that, when you do, you’ll have something people want to watch. Most independent documentary filmmakers simply have to stay with it. There are many moments when you could say, “Forget it. Why am I doing this?” Netflix didn’t commission the film, hand us a large check, promise to distribute it, and guarantee we would be paid. As with many forms of art, you have to persist. That persistence is the hardest part, and so is getting to the end with something beautiful you can share.

Fanuel Muindi

What changed in you after doing this project?

Katie Dellamaggiore

For sure. It’s hard to articulate now because I’m farther removed from the immediate filmmaking process. At the time, I became very aware of what it felt like to return to the city, get on the subway, and see everyone staring at their phones. I do that too. It’s striking how quickly we can retrain ourselves when we enter a quieter environment, spend less time attached to devices, become more contemplative, and appreciate the quiet. But the minute I’m back in the city, it’s go, go, go. That awareness changed me. Still, unplugging takes a lot of work on my part.

Fanuel Muindi

Earlier I called you a science communicator, and I wonder whether these kinds of stories are now more on your radar. Do you feel we should capture more stories like these?

Katie Dellamaggiore

I don’t know whether it’s specifically science.

Fanuel Muindi

Not just science. In this film, you did a delicate dance between the science and the people connected to it, and the human story is just as interesting as the science itself. Is that balance something you’re drawn to now?

Katie Dellamaggiore

I think there’s something valuable about finding a topic you know nothing about and learning as you go. People also make amazing documentaries about subjects they know deeply; in those films, they teach the audience. This was the inverse. I learned the subject and tried to translate it so other people could learn too. It wasn’t for the expert; it was for the novice. I’m drawn to that approach, but I’m also drawn to asking: Where is the human story? I don’t want only a collection of experts explaining a topic. I want to find the real heart of the story.

Fanuel Muindi

For me, capturing Ellie’s growth as a science communicator was especially powerful.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Right.

Fanuel Muindi

Following up with her now would be fascinating, which is now on my to-do list.

Katie Dellamaggiore

She’s incredible.

Fanuel Muindi

It would be fascinating to follow up with Ellie now, to see what she’s doing and what kind of community engagement work she’s involved in. What is she working on now?

Katie Dellamaggiore

I think she’s going to Morgantown, West Virginia, to get her PhD in physics. She has been teaching at Marshall and is involved in all kinds of projects. But yes, she’s 100 percent a science communicator at heart, and she’ll continue to be.

Fanuel Muindi

I’m biased, of course, but I think we should tell more stories about science communicators like Ellie, not only household names, but the many people doing this work in communities. Your impact program is still ongoing, and you’re tracking what people are hearing and how teachers are using the film.

In our last conversation, Sarah Goodwin shared a full report and surveys from her project. Will you do something similar at the end of this campaign?

Katie Dellamaggiore

All the data, yes. I also love collecting the short responses people share in forums and in reviews. For me, hearing directly from viewers can be even more valuable than a formal review. That feedback is how we raised money for the impact campaign. We could say, “Look at what people are saying about the film.” We continue collecting those responses all the time.

Fanuel Muindi

And it’s hard work.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Hard work.

Fanuel Muindi

It’s difficult, but at the end of the day, you get to learn something, and as you said, bring other partners on board.

Katie Dellamaggiore

Exactly.

Fanuel Muindi

And bringing in partners helps continue the work. You have other projects underway right now. Are there any you’re willing to share?

Katie Dellamaggiore

There’s a film about female chess players in the elite world of competitive chess. We’re following a couple of women as they navigate its highs and lows. That’s what I’m working on right now.

Fanuel Muindi

Katie, this was so much fun. Thank you for sharing the insights.

What follow-on actions did the insights above spark for you?

34 follow-on actions documented so far

34% of first 120

Help us track the first 120 actions sparked by CSML analysis & reporting. Goal: 1000

Document them in this 1-minute survey → + Add CSML on Google

Fanuel Muindi

Fanuel Muindi is a former neuroscientist turned civic science ethnographer. He is a professor of the practice in the Department of Communication Studies within the College of Arts, Media, and Design at Northeastern University, where he leads the Civic Science Media Lab. Dr. Muindi received his Bachelor’s degree in Biology and PhD in Organismal Biology from Morehouse College and Stanford University, respectively. He completed his postdoctoral training at MIT.