Social change means more than good intentions and posters with bold statements. It’s about doing the slow, committed work of shifting hearts, minds, and systems — so that real lives can change, not just the conversation.
For me, social change isn’t an abstract idea. It’s personal.
It’s the difference between someone feeling judged and someone being understood. It’s the gap between services that work in theory and those that work in real life.
And it’s built one story, one connection, and one uncomfortable truth at a time.
Everything I do starts with lived experience.
I’ve been homeless. I’ve been addicted. I’ve been overlooked, ignored, written off.
And I’ve sat on the other side — with a camera, a voice, and just enough stability to start pushing back.
That’s why I focus on stories that aren’t just shared — they’re seen.
Stories that don’t just raise awareness — they raise questions.
I work with people whose experiences are often reduced to statistics or headlines.
And together, we create something that demands attention — whether that’s a portrait, a quote, a short film, or a gallery exhibition that makes people stop and think.
Photography. Writing. Speaking. Mentoring.
That’s the toolkit. But the real work? That happens in between.
It’s in the conversations on doorsteps. The quiet moments after a shoot. The workshops where someone opens up for the first time. The uncomfortable silences in meeting rooms when a photo says what a 30-page report can’t.
In practice, this means creating exhibitions that bring issues like domestic abuse, homelessness, and dementia into public spaces — not just for display, but to start real conversations. It means writing books filled with warmth, humour, and brutal honesty, so people feel less alone in the chaos they’re living through. It’s mentoring organisations in how to collect and share stories in a way that’s ethical, empowering, and rooted in real life — not just dressed up for a funder report.
Sometimes I’m speaking at schools, events, or conferences — not to shock, but to shift how people actually listen and respond. And behind the scenes, I’m building reports from the ground up, shaped by the voices of those who live the reality every day — so that councils and funders can make decisions that are more human, more informed, and more likely to help.
Because it leads to action.
It’s not enough for someone to walk away from an exhibition and say, “That was powerful.”
I want them walking away saying, “We need to rethink how we do things.”
The work I do feeds into real conversations about service design, funding, outreach, support, and what dignity actually looks like in practice.
We don’t just collect stories. We use them.
To inform policy.
To challenge assumptions.
To shape projects.
To train staff.
To change the way help is offered in the first place.
I work with councils who want to embed lived experience into their decision-making, bringing real voices into rooms where policy is shaped. I support charities that are trying to show the true impact of their work — not just through numbers, but by highlighting the human stories behind the services. I collaborate with schools and frontline teams who are ready to shift culture, build empathy, and start meaningful conversations that actually stick. I also work with funders who are serious about understanding what’s genuinely working — and what isn’t.
Sometimes I take the lead on projects. Other times, I help others build theirs. Either way, the aim stays the same: to centre lived experience, and make sure the people closest to the problem are also part of the solution.
Because we’re still getting it wrong.
People are still falling through the cracks.
Still facing stigma instead of support.
Still being talked about, not spoken to.
Still navigating systems that were never designed with them in mind.
Social change is slow. It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable.
But it starts when someone dares to say:
“Let’s do it differently.”
That’s where I come in.
Not to speak for people.
But to make sure they’re heard — clearly, creatively, and in spaces that matter.
Grace