Meet Tennessee Mills | Executive Director – Lanterman House and Community Archive and Film Archivist

We had the good fortune of connecting with Tennessee Mills and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Tennessee, can you talk to us a bit about the social impact of your business?
My work, both at the Lanterman House and as a film archivist, is deeply grounded in the belief that healthy communities require shared resources we value and sustain together. What is a place, an object, a neighborhood, a home, without its cultural memory? We need spaces that reflect who we are, where we’ve been, and what we’ve built together.

My grandfather taught me “If you have the ability to be of service, you have the responsibility to be of service.” That value shaped how I see my role today. Being part of a community means being present and engaged in sustaining it.

At the Lanterman House, a historic Craftsman home and community archive in La Canada Flintridge, I see preservation not as a passive act of storage, but as living, growing, and creative act of public service. We are creating a living space for storytelling, for dialogue, for memory. Through exhibitions, public programming, and access to archives, the goal is to help people see their stories reflected and valued. Our historic sites must be about inclusion and connection, because it belongs to all of us.
Similarly, my work in film archiving is not just about saving media, it’s much more an act of care that works to expand access to memory and art. Film holds the power to capture identity with a kind of immediacy and emotional truth that few other formats can. Archives should be places where people see their traditions honored, their histories respected, and their contributions preserved.

My work is motivated by community at every level. Whether I’m building a digital asset system, curating materials, or welcoming a student into a historic home for the first time, I’m always thinking about how these spaces can serve. Because shaping a better world starts with strengthening the communities we call home and making sure they see themselves in the stories we choose to protect

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
When I was four years old, I decided definitively I wanted to be an archaeologist. I knew I wanted to share stores, history, and understand, deeply, the layers of people and place. At the same time, I was always drawn to theater and grew up performing, and also viewed living in other characters shoes as an act of care. The marriage of those two passions, history (however you would like to look at it) and the ability to bring a story to life, has shaped every step of my career.

While I always loved school, it hasn’t always been easy. I have dyslexia and ADHD, so life was never going to be boring. Traditional learning environments weren’t always designed with someone like me in mind, and I was constantly underestimated. But I learned to see that as a strength. The way my brain works forces me to be creative, to problem-solve differently, and to connect the dots between disciplines—something that has served me especially well in museums, where you’re constantly juggling narrative, research, logistics, and community needs.

I have worked at historic sites, on archaeological digs, in state parks, and theaters. I’m proudest of the work that brings history to people who don’t always see themselves in it. We are all part of community, of history. The question I always ask folks be it students or visitors is – why does this matter? And really that answer is in the hands of the community. YOU make it matter.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that leadership doesn’t come from a title. It comes from showing up, listening, and building relationships. My brand, if I have one, is rooted in care: care for stories, for communities, for art and objects, and for the people we serve. I want the world to know that heritage work doesn’t have to look like cold distant academia. It can be deeply personal, and wildly creative.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
This is such a fun (and tough!) question—because Los Angeles is such a sprawling, layered place, and I grew up in one of its most magical quiet corners: the South Bay. To me, the “real” Los Angeles isn’t found in Hollywood or tourist attractions—it’s in the little enclaves that make up this incredible mosaic of neighborhoods, each with its own fierce sense of local identity and pride (in the best way).

If my best friend were coming for a week, we’d definitely start in San Pedro. Day one would kick off with a harbor cruise of the Port, followed by a visit to the Point Fermin Lighthouse for a little history and that gorgeous coastal view. From there, we’d cruise along Palos Verdes Drive to RAT Beach to surf.

We’d grab a post-beach slice from Pedone’s Pizza, then head to Tony’s on the Redondo Pier for a mai tai (a must). Dinner would be at Fritto Misto in Hermosa Beach (pasta is my favorite, and I have been going here my entire life, and as a vegetarian and a Celiac this is a great spot). We’d end the night listening to music at the Lighthouse Café, or honestly, maybe at someone’s garage—because there is always music in LA, and that’s one of my favorite things about being here.

I also love Dune’s falafel in Silver Lake, and the Fairfax District which is where my grandmother arrived after living in the Bronx as a refugee from Nazi occupied Germany. There I find connection to my own Jewish culture, as well as great vintage shops and a cultural mashup of food. End the night with drinks at The Formosa in West Hollywood and cruise down PCH through Malibu and end with music somewhere in Topanga.

Maybe another day of wandering and find ourselves at a Dodger Game.

I think Los Angeles is magic—it’s as expansive or intimate as you want it to be. Whether you’re at a legendary music venue or a late-night backyard jam session, you’re going to find something real.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
I’ve been incredibly lucky to be shaped by people and communities who showed up for me in ways big and small.

First and foremost, I want to give a shoutout to my mom. She raised me on her own, went through school, worked multiple jobs, and still found time to be president of the PTA. She showed up to every every performance, supported every interest, was present at every moment that mattered without fail. Her tenacity, sacrifice, and unwavering presence laid the foundation for everything I am.

I also owe so much to my grandparents. Their stories, their sacrifices, and their endurance gave me both a deep sense of history and a standard of integrity to live up to. They instilled in me the importance of service, education, and tradition—values that continue to guide me today.

And then there are the communities that keep building me, every single day. From mentors and colleagues to chosen family and cultural spaces that have made room for me—I carry their support with me in everything I do. Whether it’s in archival work, community programming, or just navigating life with purpose, I am constantly learning from and shaped by the people around me.

This shoutout belongs to them.

Instagram: @tendoesart

Image Credits
Noah Licona