Although I no longer go out as much for pure “street photography,” that’s where I started and what partly shaped my work today. 

The question I get asked the most often is: Do you ask people for their consent before taking a picture? And just like most things in life, the answer is: it depends. 

1. Public vs. non-public spaces

Public spaces are generally fair game, and rarely can people haggle you for taking their pictures. However, it’s always good to exercise courtesy. Just because you can doesn’t always mean you should. I have often paused before raising my camera—not because I feared backlash, but because I wanted to be intentional. If someone is clearly in distress (see more on that below) or in a private moment, I try to ask myself: am I capturing something meaningful, or just intruding?

2. Children vs. Adults

Photographing children comes with its own set of ethical questions. Even if it’s technically legal in a public space, I tend to be more cautious. Children can’t consent in the same way adults can, and parents understandably tend to be protective. I have found that if a child is part of a wider scene—a street event or festival, for instance—I may still include them if they’re not the focal point. But when they are, I do my best to spot their guardian.s and get permission. Other times, I simply avoid the picture. Either way, I assess the specific situation every time.

3. Vulnerable people

There is a big difference between photographing someone who’s stylishly lounging in a park and someone who’s unhoused and asleep on a bench. I’ve seen those pictures and you have too. On social media, too many people romanticize those pictures and situations—It’s truly truly problematic (and I don’t say that lightly given how loosely this word has been used recently). Unless there’s context and it’s clear the photographer took time to build a connection with the person photographed. Vulnerability demands care. So I always ask myself whether the image tells a deeper story or just turns someone into a spectacle. Sometimes, prioritizing anonymity can help convey the message without a person on display. Those pictures need to be seriously considered, making sure there is context, a narrative, and consent. Exploiting pain for aesthetic gain is wrong, plain and simple. We carry responsibility for the way we represent people, especially those already marginalized. If you’re interested in documenting stories that involve vulnerable people and communities, then consider careful long-form work, which does require a certain training and awareness. 

4. Acknowledgement

A glance, a nod… is all it takes. When people understand you’re not trying to “steal” your picture. By making eye contact, you’re letting them in on your idea, on your creative process. These moments often blur the line between candid and posed, but they carry a kind of trust. Sometimes, in an effort to not affect the candid moment, I’ll make the picture and acknowledge the person right after. Which brings me to the next point.

5. Everything is better with a smile 

People respond to that: it signals openness, diffuses tension, and invites connection. Smiling throughout the process goes a long way. Even before you’ve made eye contact, someone seeing that they’ve inspired you to create can elevate their confidence. Often, that becomes a conversation starter—and conversations bring depth. 

Ultimately, street photography is not just about composition, or light, or the cool angle of a building. There are tropes using shadows and reflective surfaces that I’ve seen one too many times—Try making it about people! Your encounters will enhance your practice a hundred fold.

Good luck, and comment if you have any questions!