A conversation with Endiya Griffin on her docu series ‘With All My Love’

For Black Americans, February is charged with love and legacy. “With All My Love” is a docu series that explores how these elements have been inextricably connected through the power of photography. We join documentary filmmaker, Endiya Griffin, to discuss her thought process in developing the series.

Justin: What inspired this narrative? When did you know this was a story you had to share?

Endiya: I have always been drawn to photo albums. My grandmother’s memory is absolutely amazing and whenever we would look at old photos or I would ask her to tell me a story, she would always tell it with incredible detail. I think she is truly one of my biggest inspirations in terms of storytelling. As I got older and began to study and understand the African oral tradition, I was able to place my grandmother’s stories within a larger and deeply resonant context. In telling me stories about my family she was relaying Black history, American history, global histories that I felt were often overlooked.

My grandfather is also a huge inspiration in this process. He’s been a photographer since probably his 20s and when my grandparents retired they started an archival media digitization business. Growing up seeing people bring them polaroids and VHS tapes and cassettes and film reels and having them turn them into digital files, I didn’t really think much of it. But as we are so rapidly moving into a culture where for many people, ephemera has lost its meaning, I think there’s a necessary movement to make our ephemera eternal– especially among Black and other marginalized communities. I see it as Afrofuturism. A way of subverting hegemonic conceptions about who gets to be document and what is historical.

So to make a long story short, I felt like I had to share this story because as much as it was the past it is also deeply informative to our collective futures.

Justin: Why do you feel family history is so vital to this generation of Black Americans?

Endiya: I think that this particular generation (and I don’t exclude myself) is kind of disconnected from things of the past. As we bring in new technologies and advancements, it is also crucially important that we honor our ancestors and our elders. I think looking at this from an anthropological perspective which is my discipline, we all have a right to be historicized as well as a right to map out our own futures and I think family history, like all history, can guide us in doing that.

Justin: How did the uprisings for racial justice impact your experience of archiving the past?

Endiya: Okay so two answers. I believe that by demanding change in the present we are fighting for more dignified, liberated and beautiful futures. When I looked through my family’s photo albums it always brought a smile to my face– not necessarily just because it was my family, but because there were just so many joyful Black folk. Black people at weddings, baby showers, picnics, playgrounds, Black babies in bathtubs. I was like, “this is how my heart wants to remember Black people whom I love so dearly and this is what I want for us in the future as well.”

And then the second part is I recently came across this emerging discipline called critical archival studies (shout out Michelle Caswell, Ricardo Punzalan, and T-Kay Sangwand) and it’s basically dedicated to turning a critical eye to our practices of archival research. It asks questions like who is featured in our archives? Who owns the archives? How are archives made accessible to broader publics? And ultimately all these questions point back to power. I was doing research on Black liberation movements and I was so impressed by the way some of the digital libraries I found carefully collected artifacts like buttons and flyers that so often get thrown away or overlooked. And I thought to myself– you could really erase a whole movement from our collective memory if it were not survived through people and through archives.

Justin: Do you feel a responsibility to your elders, ancestors and perhaps future generations? If so, how does that take form?

Endiya: I definitely do and I think that looks like projects like these. I think it looks like listening to folks and truly recognizing the richness that everyone around you can contribute to your life. You can’t fully express your humanity until you are deeply connected with others. I also think it looks like organizing against the disembodiment and displacement of Black people and other marginalized communities which is what I’m seeking to do with my upcoming film “dispLAced: Leimert Park” which is about how love shapes a politics of resilience and resistance in the heart of Black LA. Shameless plug. I also think cultivating joy in my own life and seeking to disrupt cycles of trauma brought on by oppression is living out that sense of responsibility.

Justin: For folks who don’t have photo albums and home videos, how do you suggest they begin to explore their history?

Endiya: I think for people who don’t have access to photo albums and home videos, it can also start with a conversation. I recognize that I am extremely blessed to have a family that has documented our history so extensively as well as family members who are willing to share their stories with me, but of course that is not true of everyone. I think that yeah, my best advice is to just talk to people. Even if they’re not your direct lineage, we’re all connected in some way and like I’ve said knowing the path behind you can help you walk that path forward.

Justin: What was your greatest lesson in this experience?

Endiya: I think my greatest lessons in this process were really being able to engage tangibly with the power of love, learning to listen deeply… I think, learning how blessed I am to have records of history and learning that they have to be kept. The entire process has truly been life-changing and I definitely walk with new perspective.