She’s Preserving Our Stories — One Frame, One Archive at a Time

Black stories deserve to be told with the same depth, tenderness, and complexity afforded to every other narrative. Yet for generations, those stories have been minimized or erased. Photographer, archivist, and writer Danielle A. Scruggs has made it her life’s work to change that—to ensure Black life is documented in all its quiet power and beauty.

“I’ve always tried to amplify voices and perspectives that haven’t historically been amplified,” Scruggs told The Washington Post. “Not just for stories about Black subjects or Black things, but because hiring Black photographers should be the norm, not the exception.”

Her mission goes far beyond representation—it’s about reclamation. Scruggs deliberately resists the limiting extremes that have long shaped the portrayal of Black people in media: hyper-visible during moments of pain or triumph, yet invisible in their everyday humanity. Instead, she focuses her lens on ordinary moments—porch conversations, braiding hair, neighborhood rituals, the intimacy of shared laughter.

As NPR notes, Scruggs’ work challenges the idea that Blackness must always perform or resist. Her photography offers a counter-narrative, capturing stillness, familiarity, and self-possession. “There’s dignity in the mundane,” she has said. “There’s art in simply being.”

But Scruggs’ work doesn’t end with her camera. She is also the founder of Black Women Directors, a groundbreaking digital archive that documents and celebrates the achievements of Black women and nonbinary filmmakers from around the world. In an industry where recognition remains uneven, the archive functions as both record and resistance—a living testament that their contributions are not just worthy but essential.

“Film in general is something that I’ve been finding a lot of inspiration from,” she told The Cut. “Not just for my photography, but for my writing as well. It’s all connected—it’s all storytelling.”

Legacy, for Scruggs, is not an abstract concept—it’s a practice. Every photo, essay, and archived name becomes an act of preservation. She hopes that decades from now, her work will allow future generations to see evidence of care, love, and creative brilliance that has always existed in Black communities.

“I see our value even when no one else sees it,” she says. “I see the work we’ve done collectively to make this world a better place.”

As Smithsonian Magazine observes, her approach represents a broader movement among Black photographers and archivists reclaiming visual history from erasure. Scruggs’ artistry is part of that continuum—a lineage that stretches from Gordon Parks to Carrie Mae Weems to contemporary documentarians redefining Black visual culture today.

Storytelling, for Scruggs, extends far beyond galleries or film reels. It lives in oral traditions, in the rhythm of hand-clapping games, and in the rituals passed from generation to generation. “Play is preservation,” she explains. “It’s how we remember ourselves.”

That understanding is what drew her to the Because of You: Legacy in Focus LEGO collection, a project that merges creativity with cultural memory. “A LEGO set dedicated to Black storytelling isn’t just about representation—it’s about engagement,” she says. “It invites people to build history with their hands. That’s what legacy looks like—it’s something you can hold, pass down, and keep alive.”

Through every commission, photograph, and archival effort, Danielle A. Scruggs is ensuring that Black stories aren’t just captured—they’re kept. Her work carries a quiet conviction: that visibility is power, that art is memory, and that no generation should ever have to search for proof of their worth.

As she puts it, “I needed to see myself before I even knew how to show myself. Now I want the next generation to know—they’ve always belonged.”