Photography as Practice: Connection, Memory, and Empowerment
My journey into photography wasn’t planned—it unfolded naturally, shaped by personal necessity and an evolving sense of purpose. At first, photography was simply a way to hold onto moments with my son. As a new mother, I felt an urgency to preserve the fleeting beauty of our early days together. I’ve always had a tendency to dissociate, to forget the emotional weight of memories, and I didn’t want that to happen with him. The camera became my way of ensuring those moments—his laughter, his wonder, the quiet intimacy of our bond—would never slip away. I wanted to create a record of love, joy, and connection, something he could one day look back on as proof that he was deeply cherished.
What began as a personal act of preservation soon became a creative practice. Friends and family started noticing my photos, asking me to take pictures of their children and families. The process sparked something in me, a long-dormant love for photography that I hadn’t allowed myself to pursue in years. As I returned to it, I thought back to my time in college, when photography had first captured my imagination. Back then, a tutor’s words had convinced me I wasn’t cut out for it. Without a mentor to counter his judgment, I’d internalized it, stepping away from a passion that felt too vulnerable, too risky.
Motherhood changed that. It taught me the power of intentionality and the importance of living boldly. Looking at my son, I realized I didn’t want to model a life shaped by fear or self-doubt. I wanted to show him a world full of beauty, creativity, and courage. Picking up my camera again felt like reclaiming a part of myself—a part I was finally ready to share with others.
As I started to explore photography more seriously, opportunities began to emerge. Through my work with the university, I became involved in socially engaged projects that connected academic institutions with local communities. These projects showed me the potential of photography to build bridges, to tell stories, and to create spaces for dialogue and reflection. I developed a particular interest in participatory photography—an approach that emphasizes collaboration and shifts away from the traditional subject-object dynamic.
Participatory photography became a cornerstone of my practice. Teaching visual literacy and helping others discover their creative voices has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career. There’s something extraordinary about watching someone transition from taking pictures to creating art. It’s a shift not just in their work, but in how they see themselves. That transformation moves me deeply every time I witness it—it’s a reminder of why I do what I do.
Through photography, I’ve found a way to connect with others, to amplify their stories, and to honor their experiences. It has become more than a creative outlet; it’s a practice of empowerment and meaning-making. Photography reminds me—and those I work with—that our perspectives matter, that our stories deserve to be seen and celebrated.