This portrait comes from my very first project. Back then I was just starting out with a camera and a head full of ideas. I wanted to break the stereotype of homelessness. I’d already photographed people who had slept rough or bounced between sofas. I needed a few portraits of people who weren’t homeless, to see if anyone could tell the difference just by looking at a face.
The idea was simple: mix photos of rough sleepers and people with stable homes, strip away context, and ask viewers what they see. The point was to show that you can’t judge someone’s housing status by their face alone. Stereotypes make people feel small and unseen. My hope was to spark a bit of empathy and maybe some awkward reflection.
I was out on the high street with my camera when I spotted them. They had this calm confidence about them, nothing to do with weathered clothes or tired eyes. I walked up, introduced myself and asked if they’d mind having their picture taken. I explained that it was part of a series challenging assumptions. They listened, nodded, and then smiled. “You’re trying to see if people can tell who’s homeless just by a photo?” they asked. When I said yes, they laughed softly. “I’ve never been homeless,” they said, “but I know how quickly life can turn on you. If my face helps people think twice, then why not?”
They adjusted their glasses and zipped up their coat against the wind. “To be honest,” they added, “I get tired of folks assuming they can read someone’s whole story from a glance. Maybe this will show them they can’t.” I could hear the conviction in their voice. They weren’t defensive, just matter of fact. It struck me how aligned we were on this.
As I lined up the shot, they gave me one more gem. “Make sure you don’t edit out my flyaway hair,” they joked. “If we’re smashing stereotypes, let’s smash the myth that everyone needs perfect hair too.” We both laughed. Their willingness and those simple comments reminded me why I started these projects in the first place.
There’s this myth that you can see homelessness in someone’s eyes or clothes. But as I raised my camera, I saw just a person. No label. No story you could guess. Their directness and sense of humour felt like a small victory against the stereotypes I’m trying to dismantle. I look back now and smile. That first project taught me that change starts with one face at a time, challenging people to look again before they decide what they see.
