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Photography
Photographing LGBTQ+ communities and campaigns with care: a guide for charities
How to photograph LGBTQ+ people, Pride and protests for your charity without putting anyone at risk, from someone who runs an LGBTQI+ charity.
Photographing LGBTQ+ communities well comes down to one rule: the person in the picture decides how visible they are. Being seen can carry real risk, so consent has to cover where a photograph goes and for how long, as well as whether it’s taken. Plan that before the shoot and your pictures will build trust with the people in them.
I’ve seen this from both sides. After the tragic death of my fiancé, Naz, in 2014, I set up the Naz and Matt Foundation, an LGBTQI+ charity I still run as CEO. We work with LGBTQI+ people from religious families, and with their parents. I also photograph our work: Pride, protests, our support groups, and the campaign to ban conversion practices, which I’ve been part of since 2015.
This guide is for charities, campaign groups and the CSR teams who fund them. It’s what I’d want you to know before you commission LGBTQ+ photography, whether you book me or someone else. It’s also part of an idea I write about a lot, social impact storytelling, where the people in a story keep some control over how it’s told.
Why LGBTQ+ charity photography needs extra care
With most charity photography, the main risk is a picture that’s undignified. With LGBTQ+ photography there’s a second risk. A picture can tell someone’s family, employer, school or faith community something that person hasn’t chosen to tell them yet.
Lots of people aren’t out to everyone in their life. In the government’s National LGBT Survey, which had more than 108,000 responses, 70% said they’d avoided being open about their sexual orientation for fear of a negative reaction. A quarter weren’t open at all with the family members they lived with.
Those figures are from 2018. That gap, between being out with friends and being out at home, is exactly where the Foundation works.
Once a photograph is online, you lose control of it. It can be shared, screenshotted, searched and reposted long after your campaign has ended. Trans and non-binary people are especially exposed at the moment, because their pictures are sometimes taken and reused by people who want to mock or harass them.
You shouldn’t stop photographing LGBTQ+ people because of this. Being invisible has its own cost. Just start the care before anyone picks up a camera.
Consent for LGBTQ+ photography: ask how visible, not just yes or no
Most consent forms ask one question: can we take your photograph? For LGBTQ+ work, I’d ask a better one: how visible do you want to be?
I’d offer everyone three levels and let them choose.
Fully visible. Face, first name and story, used anywhere you’d normally publish.
Visible but unnamed. Face shown, no name, and only on the channels they agree to. Someone might be happy on your website but not in a press release or a paid advert.
Present but not identifiable. Photographed from behind, in silhouette, out of focus, or through their hands, their sign or their flag. They’re part of the story without being recognisable.
The person in the picture decides how visible they are.
Matt Mahmood-Ogston
Then cover the things people actually worry about. Where will this appear? For how long? Who else will see it? What happens if I change my mind?
That last question is the big one. People’s lives change. Someone who’s happy to be in your Pride photographs this year might start a new job next year, move back home, or want to come out to a parent in their own way. So check consent again before you reuse an old photograph, and make withdrawing it quick and easy.
Power plays a part too. If someone relies on your services, their yes may not be as free as it looks. I’ve written more about this in my guide to ethical storytelling and the Naz Rule, and about what to do when naming someone would put them at risk.
Photographing Pride, protests and LGBTQ+ events
In the UK you can generally photograph people in a public place. Whether it’s safe to publish a particular photograph is a different question, and as the charity, that one is yours to answer.
At a Pride march or a protest, these are the rules I’d work to.
Let the signs do the talking. Placards, flags, banners and hands often tell the story better than a face. When the Foundation went to Parliament Square in April 2025 to support trans people and their families, signs like “Proud mum of trans and NB kids” carried a lot of the story.
Shoot wide when you’re not sure. In a big crowd, faces are smaller and harder to identify.
Ask the person at the centre of the frame. If one person fills the picture and you want to use it in a campaign, ask them there and then, and note how they’d like to be described.
Brief your own group before the day. If your charity is marching, tell everyone a photographer will be there, and give people an easy way to opt out, such as a coloured wristband or sticker, or to make themselves known to the photographer.
Take extra care with young people. An LGBTQ+ young person may not be out to the parent you’d normally ask for consent. Talk to your safeguarding lead before photographing anyone under 18, and don’t identify them unless you’re certain it’s safe.
Pride is also only one part of LGBTQ+ life. If every photograph you have is rainbow flags and glitter, you’re telling a narrower story than the one you work on. Support groups, parents, older people, faith and family life all belong in the picture too.
LGBTQ+ campaign photography: show the people a debate is about
Campaigns pull you in a particular direction. When you’re fighting something harmful, it’s tempting to reach for pictures of pain. I’d resist that.
When I photographed that protest in Parliament Square, the aim was to show the people a policy debate is about: trans people, the parents who love them, and the faith communities they belong to. The Foundation then used those photographs online to campaign and to influence public opinion.
The same thinking sits behind Out and Proud Parents Day, the Foundation’s annual campaign celebrating religious parents who’ve chosen to accept their LGBTQI+ children. It’s built on pictures of love and acceptance, and in 2020 it won the Faith and Belief Community Award.
People with agency give funders and the public a reason to believe change is possible, and that’s probably what moves most people to act. You can see more of this in my photographs from the campaign to ban conversion practices.
Captions, alt text and file names
The words around a photograph can put someone at risk as easily as the photograph itself.
Use people’s own words. Don’t describe anyone’s sexuality or gender identity unless they’ve told you how they’d like to be described and agreed to it being published. Never guess from how someone looks.
Keep alt text to what’s visible. “A person holding a sign reading Trans Rights Are Human Rights” describes the picture without labelling the person.
Strip location data. Most phones save GPS data inside the image file. Remove it before you share files, especially for support groups, safe spaces and anyone’s home.
Keep names out of file names. Keywords in file names help your photographs get found in search. A person’s name in a file name can undo their choice to stay unnamed.
How to brief a photographer for LGBTQ+ work: a checklist
Whoever you hire, agree these eight things before the shoot.
Who will be photographed, and which level of visibility each person has chosen.
Where the photographs will be used, and for how long.
Whether anyone under 18 will be there, and who your safeguarding lead is.
Any places that mustn’t be identifiable, such as support group venues or people’s homes.
How people can opt out on the day.
How people will be described in captions, and who checks captions before anything is published.
How the images will be stored, shared and deleted.
How someone can withdraw consent later, and how quickly you’ll act.
I’d also ask the photographer how they’ve handled consent at a Pride march or a protest before. A good one will have a clear answer. And if you’re not sure who owns the photographs once they’re taken, read what to agree about ownership before the shoot.
One thing to do this week
Pick the ten LGBTQ+ photographs your organisation uses most. For each one, ask four questions. Do we know who’s in it? Did they agree to this use? Is that consent still current? Does the caption describe them in their own words?
If you can’t answer yes to all four, take the photograph down until you can. It’s a small job, and it’s one of the quickest ways to show the community you serve that you take their safety seriously.
Frequently asked questions
Do I need consent to photograph people at Pride?
In the UK you don’t generally need consent to photograph people in a public place. For a charity, though, the safer approach is to ask anyone who’s clearly identifiable before you use their photograph in a campaign, and to use wide shots, signs and flags where you can’t ask. I’m not a lawyer, so check anything specific with your own legal adviser.
How do I photograph LGBTQ+ people who aren’t out?
Offer a way to take part without being identifiable: photographs from behind, in silhouette, of hands or of signs. Agree it before the shoot, and check every image before it’s published.
Should a caption mention someone’s sexuality or gender identity?
Only if the person has told you how they’d like to be described and agreed to it being published. If it isn’t needed to tell the story, leave it out.
Can we reuse old Pride photographs?
Check consent again first, especially for anyone who can be identified. People’s circumstances change, and a photograph that was safe to publish a few years ago might not be safe now.
If you’re planning LGBTQ+ photography for your charity or a campaign, here’s how I work with charities as a photographer. And for the bigger picture on how photographs and words work together, start with my guide to what social impact storytelling is.
Matt Mahmood-Ogston is a London-based social impact storyteller and documentary photographer. He founded the Naz and Matt Foundation in 2014 and has led it for more than 12 years.
