Meet Alejandra Torres-Galindo

We had the good fortune of connecting with Alejandra Torres-Galindo and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Alejandra, why did you pursue a creative career?
That’s a hard question — but a really important one. Choosing to pursue a creative path is, in many ways, an act of bravery. You’re not just doing a job — you’re creating something from your emotions, your vulnerability, your perspective. That takes courage, especially in a world where artistic careers are often surrounded by uncertainty. So I think it has to be a conscious decision. But for me, it also felt like the right thing to do, I felt responsible to do something with the things I had seen, heard, read and felt.

Back in 2015, when I was deciding what to study, I already knew I had something for the arts. It was a feeling I’d had since I was a kid. That’s why I enrolled in a Design program that was flexible and that allowed me to take classes in scriptwriting, art direction, installation, but also graphic design. At the same time, I knew I wanted to double major in something rooted in the Social Sciences. I first considered philosophy, but I ended up choosing History. Because for me, art has never been just about creating something beautiful — it’s also about questioning, healing, and transformation. Especially social transformation.

That belief grew stronger when I started working at Colombia’s Truth Commission. I was part of a team investigating enforced disappearances and designing a digital archive of victims’ testimonies. Around the same time, I got involved in feminist organizations and started listening to the stories of other women — stories that echoed my own in ways I hadn’t fully recognized before. Those experiences were painful, yes, but also deeply inspiring. I knew I wanted to work for change, but not just through politics or academic work. I realized that art — and film in particular — could carry those stories in a different, more intimate, and transformative way.

Filmmaking offered me tools I hadn’t found elsewhere: production design, camera movement, narrative structure, metaphor, and the freedom writing fiction allows – always with the proper research and ethics, of course. These tools allowed me not only to process what I’d seen and heard, but also to create memory, beauty, and resistance out of it. It became a way to heal — and a way to help others do the same.

Moving to another country to pursue this career wasn’t easy. I knew it was a long shot. But when the Fulbright Scholarship came, it felt like the answer: yes, you can do this — go for it. And I did, but I was always rooted in giving back to my country. And the deeper I go into filmmaking, the more I’m convinced it’s not just the right path — it’s a responsibility.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I’m not sure about this — it might be true — but what I’ve heard a lot throughout my professional and academic life is “ambition.” But also, care. Ambition not just in scale or execution, but in purpose — and care in how I relate to the people I work with, the stories I tell, and the world around me. I’m not interested in creating just for the sake of beauty or recognition. What drives me is a deep sense of responsibility. I create films that respond to social and historical wounds — especially those tied to gender violence, memory, and post-conflict Colombia — and I do so with a feminist ethic of care. This has never been easy. I double-majored in Design and History and investigated enforced disappearance — which, emotionally, mentally, physically, and intellectually, was already demanding — all while navigating the weight of the stories I was encountering. Since 2015, I’ve had to push myself harder than I thought possible: all-nighters, self-taught filmmaking, volunteer programs — all because I believed, and still believe, that art can help create social change. As a woman in academia, in history, and now in film, I’ve constantly had to prove that I’m smart enough, tough enough, capable enough. And when I moved to the U.S., I had to do it all over again — this time as a woman of color, with an accent, in a new language, navigating a new cultural system. I had no formal background in filmmaking when I applied to Fulbright — I had to build my own portfolio from scratch, with short documentaries and deeply political narratives focused on gender and war. That effort paid off: I earned one of the world’s most competitive scholarships and started directing special projects like ChefATL, my own short films, and other people’s thesis films — in a country where I initially felt like a stranger.

One of the projects I’m most proud of is my thesis film, Home— a politically charged story about student movements in 1980s Colombia. It was so ambitious that people warned me it might be too much. I wrote and rewrote it for months. I even took an extra quarter to make sure I could do justice to the story and give myself the time to return to Colombia to shoot during the summer. I ended up coordinating teams in two countries — the U.S. and Colombia — and coming back to my country to shoot a project of that scale, with production days that involved up to 50 people on set, all while carrying the fear of being perceived as a foreigner now. In the end, I even got to shoot at my dream location: the National University in Bogotá — a site that holds weight not only in Colombia’s history but in its film history too. Films like Memoria by Apichatpong Weerasethakul were shot there just a few years ago. It was logistically and emotionally intense, but the result has been gratifying. And it proved my first intuition: there is nothing like Colombian talent and Colombian work ethic. Shout-out to everyone involved.

Home, like everything I do, is guided by rigorous research, interviews, and deep ethical reflection. I don’t just want to tell meaningful stories — I want to tell them right. That means approaching fiction with the same integrity as documentary work or academic research: with proper investigation, hard conversations, interviews, and a willingness to be questioned. The feminist principles I live by — especially the ethics of care — are present in every stage of my process. Along the way, I’ve also learned the importance of mentorship and feedback. I’ve built strong relationships with my professors, who have supported my wildest and most ambitious dreams — with comments like, “the things I do for you.” They’ve even helped me request special permission from my scholarship to remain in Colombia during production. I’ve also learned to filter the feedback I receive — to choose what serves my growth while staying grounded in my vision.

The biggest lesson, I would say, is this: be open to feedback. Yes, believe in yourself — but that can only take you so far. Collaboration, self-criticism, and being willing to listen have shaped not only my creative process, but my entire work ethic.
But also — don’t make your art only about your name. Don’t pour your effort into something just because it boosts your ego or brings recognition. Do it because there’s something meaningful behind it — a truth, a wound, a story that must be told.

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.
If my best friend was visiting Atlanta, I’d start with brunch at Café Intermezzo — it’s an absolute must. I love their desserts and the whole restaurant experience; it’s cozy, elegant, and full of character. After that, we’d walk over to the High Museum of Art, my favorite place in the city. We’d spend a long time there, especially contemplating Kara Walker’s work. I almost died the first time I saw her installation — I had been a fan for years and couldn’t believe one of her pieces was right next to my place. It was surreal.

Next, we’d head to Piedmont Park for a picnic. It’s a ritual for me — I usually go there with a friend, and we give each other tarot readings. It’s peaceful, magical, and grounding.

And to end the day, we’d go dancing at El Super Pan at The Battery, where you can enjoy some of the best Latin American cuisine and music Atlanta has to offer. It’s the perfect way to celebrate the beauty of our culture — joyful, delicious, and full of rhythm.

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’d love to dedicate my shoutout to the women who raised me and to all the women who have held me, inspired me, and supported me along the way. It starts with my mother and grandmother, both incredibly courageous single mothers who worked tirelessly so their daughters could dream beyond what was expected of them. Their resilience and strength are the foundation of everything I do.

I also want to thank the writers, teachers, and friends who introduced me to feminism and helped me see the world — and myself — differently. Authors like Lydia Cacho, who writes with such bravery about gender violence in Latin America, had a significant impact on me. So did my History professors, the first ones to introduce me to gender perspectives during undergrad, and the incredible friends I met through our feminist collective in Bogotá, who taught me the power of collective action and the ethics of care.

Here in Atlanta, I’m especially grateful to Professor Jennifer Hyde at SCAD, who has gone above and beyond to support women in film and who has dedicated herself to helping us navigate the challenges of being a woman in film.

And finally, I owe everything to my friends — those here in Atlanta and back home in Bogotá. Their support, work, time, laughter, care, patience, and love have carried me through the most challenging thing I’ve ever done. Moving abroad to pursue the dream of becoming a filmmaker who contributes to peacebuilding in Colombia and to gender justice anywhere in the world.

Instagram: @ALEJITATHEYCALLME

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/alejandratgalindo/

Image Credits
Photos by: Juan Diego Moreno Zapata, Annel Sosa, Niranjana K. Arunkumar.