Son of Many documents my journey to make sense of painful histories in which we are personally implicated. It takes place mere blocks from Princeton’s campus, in front of what were living quarters for generations of enslaved African Americans (it is important to note that this building is now the gift shop for the Morven Museum). I stumbled upon this site by chance while on a walk. When I realized what this ominous structure was—the violence it stood for—I was overcome by an incendiary mix of emotion. Rage was the first to take hold, as I was dumbfounded how such a momentous space could be so readily reduced to nick nacks and second thoughts. Sorrow quickly followed, as I envisioned children like myself born into captivity: the backs on which this institution was built and my existence became possible. And to my surprise, awe blossomed as I radically imagined the unlikely families and beautiful intimacy that flourished within these walls, a throaty refusal to a system that desperately tried to suppress both. These emotions ultimately prompted me to simply listen—to embody this space in all of its profound nuance. From the thicket, I heard my Great Grandmother Daisy chronicle her arduous journey from Jim Crow South Carolina to my current home, Missouri. I heard the depth of a diaspora, a community we are actively trying to construct and understand at Princeton, throughout history, and beyond. I heard silence, sometimes the most radical sonic space an African American can exist within. Pulling materials from my own personal archive, found materials, original poetry, and photography, I attempt to bring these ranging voices in conversation together. In doing so, I hope to challenge what film is and what it can do, as well as illuminate the great care that we must bring to any and all understandings of Black life in America.