We Are The Archive: A Journey Through Memory, Visibility, and Queer Resilience in Amsterdam

By Zama Shange

Prologue: A Meeting in the Making

The summer sun beats down on Amsterdam with unusual intensity, 33 degrees Celsius, the hottest day of the week, as we prepare for what promises to be a significant afternoon. It is 12:05 PM on July 29, 2026, and I find myself in the sitting room area of the Hoxton Lloyd Hotel in Amsterdam, waiting alongside Professor Muholi for Lizzy Ziqubu to arrive.

There is an electricity in the air that transcends the heat. Today we are not merely attendees at a film screening; we are participants in something far more profound: a convergence of generations, identities, and histories that refuse to remain hidden.

As I position my phone on the windowsill, capturing selfie videos and images of my outfit, a tiny denim waistcoat paired with baggy jeans and crisp white All-Star sneakers, Professor Muholi cannot help but tease my choice of footwear, especially given the walk ahead. I laugh it off. After all, fashion sometimes demands sacrifice, and comfort is the last thing on my mind when I am stepping into a space that promises to reshape perspectives.

The Journey: Walking Through History

Lizzy arrives, and we embark on our 35-minute walk to Amsterdam Central Station. What could have been a mundane commute transforms into an immersive experience, the perfect way to absorb the city's beauty and rhythm. In Amsterdam, walking and cycling are not merely modes of transportation; they are cultural statements, ways of being one with the people and the place.

The heat is relentless, but our conversations are so engaging that we barely notice the distance or the temperature. Lizzy and I dive into discussions that range from the personal to the political, setting the tone for the day ahead. There is something poetic about walking through a city known for its canals and bicycles while heading toward a documentary that explores the canals of memory and the bicycles of history that carry queer narratives forward.

Arrival: A Space of Reverence

Our journey is not without its detours. A misdirection on the tram means circling back, and what should have been a five-minute walk to the H'ART Museum extends to fifteen. Google Maps leads us in circles; I take full accountability for assuring we were on the right track when we decidedly were not. Professor Muholi, understandably, is less than thrilled with the heat-induced navigation mishap.

But all frustrations dissolve the moment we arrive.

The building is imposing and magnificent, with bold gold lettering announcing HERMITAGE AMSTERDAM, within which the H'ART Museum resides. The decor is strikingly modern, a vibrant art hub nestled amidst an indoor garden, with a red carpet unfurling from the entrance to the museum's ground floor. On the first floor, the elegant Grand Café offers a stunning view of the quadrangle between the building's wings.

We ascend to the second floor, where the exhibition awaits. The gallery is a modern open-plan space with soaring ceilings, and we are immediately greeted by artwork that commands attention: black and white portraits displayed on large wooden easel stands, virtual art lining the walls, and two generous bouquets of flowers at the center.

The guests are already seated, their attention fixed on the screen.

The Film: "We Are The Archive"

The documentary we have come to witness is a collaborative work by Elsa Groener, Joy Brandsma, Max Jonker, and Margot Van der Sande, curated by Dominique Almeida at the COC Shakespeare Club. Its subject matter is as urgent as it is beautiful: the hidden past of the Black queer community in the Netherlands.

The film weaves together generations: young queer people of color engaging in vital conversations with older women from diverse ethnic backgrounds and gender preferences. It explores not only what we can learn from each other but also how we draw strength from our connections in times of polarization.

What strikes me most profoundly is the safe space the film creates. It allows both young and elder voices to express themselves freely, sharing stories and life journeys as members of the LGBTQIA+ community. We Are The Archive is more than a documentary; it is a narrative about identity and resilience, about a history still in motion, about the necessity of finding one another.

The film delivers a captivating, delightful narrative, one that reminds us that archives are not just dusty boxes in forgotten corners. They are living, breathing conversations happening in real time.

The Panel: Voices That Demand to Be Heard

After the screening, the panel dialogue commences. Professor Muholi takes the stage alongside Anne Krul, Tieneke Sumter, and Andrea Vogelsanger, with Dominique Almeida skillfully leading the discussion.

Each panellist shares their remarks, but it is Professor Muholi's words that resonate with particular urgency:

“We need more of these conversations, whether it is World Pride or not. They need to be weekly, they need to be monthly, they need to be every day. We need to hear these voices. As a matter of fact, these conversations need to be part and parcel of the education system, like how we read about the world's history. The work starts here, and the work starts with us!”

Professor Muholi continues, outlining a vision for institutional change:

“We need to have a library where a person enters and is swamped into books that matter, books that speak to Blackness, that speak to age, knowledge that we don't get to read about in academia.”

The call to action extends further:

“We need shelters because we are an aging community. Shelter for queer feminists is long overdue, and the state needs to provide those spaces for our people. Our own people become the employees of those spaces so they can feel safe without prejudice.”

In closing, the message is clear:

“We need Books. Documentaries. Exhibitions. Shelters for our people. And then we change the educational system to make sure that we are part of it, and not just a chapter!”

The Aftermath: Community in Action

Dominique Almeida officially closes the event with thanksgiving, and the networking begins immediately. Contacts are exchanged, collaborations are discussed, and the energy of possibility fills the room. Lizzy, who has been capturing every moment, continues documenting, closing with a group photograph that freezes this significant gathering in time.

I am privileged to have been part of this space, surrounded by seniors who carry wisdom and experience. The knowledge I have acquired here has broadened my understanding and deepened my commitment to this work.

As I reflect on the day, I am reminded that this is just the beginning. Lizzy, founder of Ziqubu M Productions, works intimately with senior citizens, a connection that promises to carry these conversations back home and into the future.

Epilogue: The Archive Continues

What does it mean to be the archive? It means recognizing that our stories, our bodies, our connections, and our conversations are historical documents in themselves. It means understanding that the work of preserving queer history, particularly Black queer history, is not passive but active: a daily practice of witnessing, documenting, and advocating.

We Are The Archive is not just a film; it is a call to action. It is a reminder that archives are not just about the past; they are about the futures we are creating, the shelters we are building, and the education systems we are transforming.

As I walked back through the streets of Amsterdam that evening, the heat finally beginning to subside, I carried with me the weight and the gift of the day's revelations. The archive is not a place; it is a practice. It is in the conversations we have, the stories we share, and the spaces we create for one another.

The work starts here. The work starts with us.