Get in the picture

Photography helps Syrian and Lebanese children focus on the positives in their lives

‘Take pictures of your “safe space”,’ I said. ‘The place where you feel most happy and comfortable and secure.’

We were three months into the Christian Aid photography project and this was the final homework for the Syrian and Lebanese children living in Beirut. The kids rushed out excitedly, keen to get started.

A week later, when I sat with each child to talk about what they’d photographed and why, it was as if all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle fell into place.

The aim of the project was for children who have lived through fear, displacement and exclusion to use photography as a means of talking about their lives, and to build confidence in themselves and others.

When I saw that so many of the safe space pictures were of exactly the same things the kids had been snapping all along, I realised that from the start they’d been using photography as a way to focus on the things in life that made them feel good.

The things they wanted to hold dear.

The things they wanted to share with others.

‘It made me happy to talk’

One girl, 14-year-old Stephanie, had taken pictures of old photographs of Syria. We spent an hour poring over them. Looking at one photo of the view from her old house, she said: ‘I like this picture, because every house that you see — and even the ones that you don’t — I know everyone who lives there by name.’

We talked about her friends and family from there, about the time it snowed, the animals they kept, and the river where she used to swim. Part of me was worried, because we spent so long on it, that it would upset her — but I was wrong.

In the next workshop, when we were discussing how we’d found the homework, Stephanie said: ‘It made me happy to talk about things I haven’t talked about for a long time.’

While she may not be able to visit Syria right now, remembering it and showing a keen listener pictures of it comforts Stephanie. It’s like the photography has enabled her to step into the picture.

‘When I was in Syria, I took this photo on my phone. When we were talking about the safe space, I took a picture of the photo. If it wasn’t for seeing the edge of the mobile screen at the corner, you would think that I took the photo of the view directly.’

The power of nature

One of the boys, Ali, who is Lebanese, had taken pictures every week of the flat roof of his house and the surrounding view. It was only when we sat and talked about the roof in terms of the safe space that I came to understand more about why he had done this over and over again.

The streets aren’t safe, there are few playgrounds, and both home and the Mouvement Social centre are full of people. As a 16-year-old boy from a large family in a poor and insecure area of Beirut, out of school and with the shyness of so many adolescents, the roof was one of the only spaces where he could be alone and relaxed.

The children were always telling me they miss nature. Most of them are from the countryside but now find themselves living in the middle of an overcrowded city with almost no green spaces.

And several of them chose to focus on this for their safe space project, taking pictures of an overgrown plot to stand in for nature writ large, or getting down to the sea, which runs along Beirut’s coastline yet is inaccessible from much of the city due to the docks.

They used embroidered flowers to symbolise the real thing, or turned the camera upwards and looked at the sky.

Confidence on display

In the three months we spent together, the 12 children developed photography skills they’re very proud of. They talked about the past and the present in a safe and supportive environment, with a trained counsellor on hand for referral if necessary.

The group became close. They brought up every issue you can think of, from the different treatment of boys and girls to the intensity and importance of childhood friendships, and relationships with siblings and parents.

They discussed education, the Mouvement Social centre where they come every day, and work, freedom, aspiration, expression and communication, the pressures and problems facing Lebanon — and, of course, Syria.

And they loved seeing the pictures go up online for all to see. Teachers at the centre remarked on the children’s growing trust in their photography, in themselves, and in each other.

In the final workshop we sat in a circle and looked back on the project together. Everyone was sad that it was coming to an end.

But the photography skills and the children’s belief in themselves are theirs to keep, and now we’re excited about the next thing — putting on an exhibition of their stories and pictures in Beirut.

It’s another chance for the children to show the world their talent and resilience — and remind themselves of it in the process.