Hidden Figures : A House But No Home

Imagine living in a house with 50 of your siblings: the constant noise and chaos as you try to juggle school work, help look after the youngsters, and desperately scramble to gain any ounce of affection from your parents. Your mother doesn’t sing to you or read you bedtime stories. You’re starving for attention, but she’s too consumed with the endless task of trying to clothe and feed you all to cater to your emotional needs.

So, you don’t go to piano lessons, no one attends your parent meetings, and in a house of so many, you feel completely alone.

This is not a purely hypothetical situation.

Imagine now the same environment, except the other children you live with are not really your siblings. Your true mother lives far away, and you haven’t seen her in years. This may be a house, but it is hardly a home, and it is the fate that awaits many children in institutionalised care.

According to official reports, Thailand has 545 documented children’s homes. However, what is written on paper does not always tell the whole story. There are children in the margins, pages lost or torn out, or perhaps never written at all. Our investigation set out to learn about the stories and lives of these children, but we found that few are ever told.

One Sky Foundation was the first chapter in our quest to uncover these missing pages. As part of the Alternative Care Thailand (ACT) coalition, they have been tirelessly surveying and collecting data on unregistered children’s homes across the country. Here, we spoke to Andy Lillicrap, the consultant, and Wiwat Thanapanyaworakun, the manager. Their independent research has illuminated the gaps in official records, allowing us to see where the untold stories lie.

Here, we saw the truth begin to emerge: these documented children’s homes account for less than half of all orphanages in Thailand.

The amount of undocumented children's homes in Thailand is alarming. However, with government oversight leaving much of the picture obscured, the exact figure is still unknown.

According to a study funded by ACT, there are 175 private children’s homes in Chiang Mai alone.

Andy recounted a time he, Wiwat and his team offered to work with the head of social services in Chiang Rai. She refused their offer of help on the basis that she knew how many children’s homes were in her province. According to her findings, there were 37 children’s homes registered with her and 13 not yet registered. After four months, One Sky Foundation completed their survey and found a total of 197 children’s homes in the province—only 37 were legal.

No government oversight means no regulation. There are no enforced requirements for transparency, collaboration with social workers, or childcare standards. As a result, the children are overlooked, as is their safety and welfare. Neither the public nor the government knows what happens to these children behind closed doors, and some children’s shelters refuse to say (32 private children’s homes in Chiang Mai declined to be interviewed by ACT) and due to their status, they have no legal requirement to do so.

This begs the question: “How many children are living outside of any regulation, any monitoring, and who are these people?”

The overcrowded house mentioned earlier is not an anomaly but a direct result of persistent oversight. With proper government funding, more staff could be hired and trained to resolve the large child-to-caretaker ratios and the incompetency too often rife in such institutionalised care systems. The funding for unregistered private homes comes mostly from charitable donations, which often do not suffice to provide for the children.

Several unregistered homes have admitted they don’t have the adequate funds to give children a proper life. In addition, several lack understanding of how to efficiently use these donations. A children's home we visited in San Sai, Chiang Mai, had children sleeping twenty to a room without privacy or a bathroom door, the floorboards rotting away. When asked how they would utilize the extra money required from the public, the manager answered, "Buy a bigger van."

A further issue is that children are needlessly ushered into these systems. Worldwide, there are cases of children being taken into care, but Thailand sees a disproportionate figure. Western countries view this as a last resort for a few youths who either don't have parents or whose parents are abusive or neglectful. In Thailand, the same could be assumed. However, there are no less than 120,000 children in institutionalized care across the country, 97% of whom have at least one living parent, compared to in the West where this figure is 80%. According to Andy and Wiwat, most of these children could, and should, be living with their parents instead.

Wiwat and his team spent two years surveying Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai province. As of today, they have visited, interviewed, and documented just under 400 children’s homes in these two provinces alone.

“There is nowhere else in the world like this… We don’t have a war, we don’t have an HIV epidemic. Why are there 20,000 children living in 400 private children’s homes, most of which are not registered with the government? No one checks on them,”—this is Andy and Wiwat’s main question they have for Northern Thailand.

Why, then, if not from abuse or being orphaned, are so many children in institutional care? The answer lies in poverty and lack of access to education. The Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC) says children should never be separated from their parents for these reasons, but in Thailand, somehow, this has become the standard.

1.4% of the Thai population is Christian, compared to 89% of children’s homes in Chiang Mai. Many were set up by foreign missionaries with the support of their churches, a process made quite easy by the lack of government regulation. U.S. Christians, in particular, continue to create, donate to, and volunteer at such children’s homes without being aware of the reality of the situations or the ramifications of their support.

As Andy put it, “When we hear a child is in a children’s home, we assume they're there because something went wrong. We don’t ask. It's surprising how we don’t ask.”

Though such children’s homes are often created out of good intention, the ignorance of participants often does the children more harm than good. Andy spoke of the misinformation surrounding Thailand that affects the mindset of missionaries, volunteers, and churches: “People paint a very dark picture of Thailand, and people want to come here and be the light—to rescue the children. Missionaries come here believing they’re gonna kick down the doors of brothels and rescue girls.” In reality, they are breaking up families and taking children from their homes.

At least half of these Christian children's homes are unregistered, unregulated, and operating without accountability, yet they still offer their charitable services to help relieve impoverished parents of the financial burden of raising their children. In some cases, these children’s homes act as a tool to bring children to Christianity: children pray every day, go to church on Sundays, and Bible study is a common practice. This is not coming from the standpoint of child rights or social work; some people who run such children’s homes have even been reported as referring to them as a ‘holy place spreading the word of Jesus.’ A child should not grow up in such an environment where Christianity comes first, where child welfare is an afterthought.

“We’re looking at about 40 million dollars a year to run those (Christian) children’s homes, largely coming from the US churches. And what are the people in those churches told about the situation here and the children here, and how accurate is it? …And do they have any notion that most of those children should be with their parents? And those 40 million dollars could be used to make that happen?” questions Andy.

90% of the children in these children’s homes would have a better life if they could have home support, according to ACT’s findings. These families should have the opportunity for support to be brought to them rather than their only option being to have their children taken away and placed into a children's home.

If parents had the choice, they wouldn’t give up their children. Many families cry as they do so, but there is only one choice in Thailand. As Andy Added, “Why are those people not saying (to the families), ‘I can see things are really tough for you. How can I help you?’ Why are they saying, ‘I can take your kids’?”

It’s an offer hard to refuse for many parents. Their decision is made out of desperation, underpinned by poverty. Millions of people are living below the poverty line, having to work day and night, every day of the week, for 3000 baht a month to feed their family on. And then, as Andy put it, "someone comes along and says, 'You could give me your kids. I’ll give them three meals, I’ll make sure they’re neat and tidy, they’ll have new clothes; maybe, if they’re smart, we’ll get them into university. What do you think? But you need to decide now.'" What choice should they make?

Poor families often believe institutional care can present their children with the provisions they cannot—namely, access to education, adequate food, and shelter. In truth, while children in institutional care may receive basic necessities, they are frequently exposed to conditions detrimental to their health and well-being. These include mental health conditions, developmental delays, and the risk of abuse.

“We can’t let them do whatever they want, whenever they want... In the UK and Australia, you can’t just open a children's home because you want to, and expect the police and social services not to come ask you what you’re doing. But in Thailand, you can. You can rent a house in Chiang Mai tomorrow, you can find someone to take you to some poor villages, and in under a week, you can have 30 kids. Then you can get a website and you can start raising money. Nobody is coming to ask you who you are and what you’re doing and why you’re doing it." Andy said.

During our investigation, we visited a handful of orphanages located in Chiang Mai and were often left feeling concerned by the lack of psychological support and emotional care for children. Due to the overcrowded nature of large institutional care, children frequently do not receive adequate attention. Without real affection from a parental figure, children in institutional care can develop attachment disorders.

"Their development is also often stunted, which has been linked to a dramatic decrease in brain activity compared to children who grew up outside of institutional care," Dr. Netdao Yangyubon, head of the Child and Youth Management Unit Evaluation Project, explained.

As a result of these mental delays, many children who are taken from their families in exchange for education never even get to see the walls of a university classroom.

Furthermore, Dr. Netdao added, "Children's homes cannot solely rely on their way of management; they must also take into account the environment and culture of the community where these children live."

Often, these children are from hill tribes and ethnic minority groups. Having been separated from their communities at an early age, they return to their families to find they have lost their culture and are unable to speak their mother tongue, due to having been taught only in Thai. Wiwat recalled a story of a young boy who was given up as a newborn after the death of his mother: “Fifteen years later, they meet up. But two people, the father and the son, cannot talk to each other because the son cannot speak (the) local language, (and) the father cannot speak Thai.” This is a common experience for many children who grew up in the system. Wiwat and Andy told us of villages they visited, only to find all the children missing. Taking the children away from these communities results in “identity loss, loss of culture, loss of language, (and) loss of roots.”

Too many children’s homes are unaware of this issue. They only see what’s on the surface. As Wiwat told us, in children’s homes, you can see that the children have “better food, better living conditions, a clean room, a clean bed,” but what they cannot see at that time is arguably more important: the mental state of the child and their relationships in the long term. “When children live in the children’s home for 10 years, what happens after? The children’s homes, they don’t see (these problems). They say, ‘Okay, you are better. You are better compared to your family on the hill tribe.’” They don’t see the damage that could happen in the relationship “between the children and the family. (When) the children have lost their roots, it’s difficult to go back to the culture.”

Wiwat referenced Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: the two basic needs are about survival — you have food, accommodation, and safety. The third level is “feeling that you belong to someone.” Although children’s homes can meet the first two requirements, they rarely respond to children’s needs at the higher level. Children require quality time with their parents every day: at least thirty minutes of doing homework together or sharing stories, just them. In a home of fifty children and three staff, how is this achievable? How can one caretaker look after the emotional and mental needs of twenty children in a day?

Many children Wiwat and his team interviewed admitted to feeling quite lonely. “They are in a lot of pain... When they come back from school, they have something inside them they want to explore, to have someone to share things with, but they have no one to listen to them... (because their routine is just that): they come back (from school), do their homework, clean up, go to the church play, and then sleep... and then many children, when they leave, have problems in life after that. The children’s homes, they never see this problem.”

There have also been reports of child abuse in institutional care. Instances have been relayed to us of inhumane punishment techniques being used on young children such as forcing them to eat chili peppers or stand outside in the sun for prolonged periods of time.

To open a children’s shelter, the regulations focus on infrastructure, but there is no emphasis on why the children are there, or how it was deemed necessary for them to be there. In addition, “To register your private children’s home in Chiang Mai, you don't actually need a child protection policy; it is not one of the requirements. You don't have to train your staff. You don’t have to show any evidence that you did background checks on your staff... All the things that would seem like common sense are not part of the requirements to open a home.”, Andy said. As a result, there are many registered children’s homes with standards even lower than some illegal ones.

As the Children's Shelter Foundation manager explained, “Staff are crucial to a children’s home. If they are not trained adequately or mistreated, they may pass on their frustration to the children.” The manager highlighted the unique challenges faced by orphanages in Thailand and emphasized the foundation's commitment to exceeding government standards by ensuring staff are well-trained and supported.

Following the Parenting for Long-Life Health (PLH) program guidelines—developed by the World Health Organization (WHO)—Children's Shelter Foundation engages caregivers in building positive parenting skills, improving parent-child relationships, and reducing harsh disciplinary practices. They also employ an on-site child psychologist to provide emotional support for children during their stay and as they transition into adulthood. This is a focus that shouldn’t be the exception, but should be mandatory for all children’s shelters across Thailand, whether registered or not.

However, in many of the orphanages we visited, such practices were not in place.

While no country has a flawless system of social care for children, Thailand stands in stark contrast to other nations that have agreed to follow the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC)—despite being one of the first to sign it.

The CRC establishes clear guidelines: children should only be separated from their families as a last resort, and the decision should never rest with a children's home, where a clear conflict of interest exists. As we know, Thailand is not following this protocol.

In countries like Australia and the UK, only a judge has the authority to determine a child's placement. These countries also prioritize family-based care. A 2021 Ofsted report revealed that in England and Wales, Out of the 400,00 children in social care, 320,000 children are in home-based care, living with their families with the help of a social worker and an individual care plan. In Thailand, this figure is zero. In addition, in the UK 10,00 children are living in residential care as opposed to Thailand’s 120,000. The UK and Thailand are countries of a similar population size with a similar amount of children and they have both signed the CRC. So why are these figures so starkly different?

This is affecting more than just the children, it is affecting the communities. Villages are filled with parents and grandparents but the newest generation is missing. There is no-one for these people to pass down their knowledge, culture or language to. Taking the children away from these communities is not solving the issue, it is just creating more problems.

In Andy’s words, “If the solution is when there’s a problem we take children into our care, after 30 years will we have a stronger community or a weaker community?...Can the communities solve problems by themselves? Do they have resilience? No, because everytime there’s a problem, we just take the problem away. If for 30 years, we’d been doing the social work, the really hard work in the community to build resilience, to build strength, where would we be now? We could have less children’s homes.”

A strong future cannot be built on weak foundations. Culture cannot thrive when there’s nothing left to be shared and no-one left to share it with. In order to provide support, one must engage in research and call for transparency rather than run into the fight blindly. These children don't need salvation, they need a childhood.  They cannot afford to have their stories unwritten any longer.

The government must take action, working alongside the public to ensure that children grow up in nurturing, safe, and caring environments that meet state-sanctioned guidelines. Children’s homes must rise to their intended purpose—not just shelters, but sanctuaries, true homes.

This can be achieved through consistent monitoring and documentation of all children’s care homes. ACT is advocating for policies that prioritize family-based care, ensuring that children are only separated from their families as a last resort. They also emphasise that children should be assigned to care systems only by independent and informed third-parties. Thailand was one of the first countries to sign the CRC—these commitments must not remain words on paper. The government has the resources and solutions before them; they need only act.

The public too must play their part. Change cannot come from blindly donating to orphanages they have never visited. Governments and NGOs cannot achieve these changes alone. People must ask the hard questions. They must be aware, understand, and focus their attention on this issue. The power to create change lies with us. And it is up to us to ensure that these children don’t just have a house—they have a home.

People Wither

Thailand recently hosted the 2022 APEC (Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation). The meeting aimed to create a more stable economy by promoting Bio-Circular-Green Economy. However, it raised many questions that have still been left unanswered.

Thailand's government painted a glowing picture of regional unity, sustainable growth, and economic recovery when it hosted APEC in November 2022. As with a painting created with only one color, the vision was incomplete, leaving much of the canvas-and the people-unrepresented. Under the theme "Open. Connect. Balance.”. Leaders committed to fostering free trade, championing a Bio-Circular-Green (BCG) Economy, and building an inclusive society. The theme, however, became a landscape only a few can live in, a stark contrast to reality for many. The summit was little more than a stage-managed spectacle, where promises were made to the world while the voices of the people were stifled at home.

Ordinary people paid a steep price for the 2022 APEC meeting. In the weeks leading up to the summit, Thailand became a fortress, with thousands of police officers deployed to enforce security. Demonstrations were restricted to designated protest zones. The authorities detained activists and union leaders under the guise of maintaining order, some of them preemptively. A clear-out of streets was conducted, and citizens, especially those living in working-class neighborhoods, were effectively displaced to make way for dignitaries.

The crackdown on dissent during the summit exemplified the broader marginalization of Thai citizens. As leaders discussed "connectivity" and "sustainability," the government's heavy-handed actions demonstrated that ordinary people's voices were not welcomed.

A major goal of APEC in 2022 was to create a more inclusive economy. Yet these promises remain hollow for the protesting workers, farmers, and small business owners. Corporate-friendly policies supported by APEC often result in community displacement, labor exploitation, and income inequality. APEC's economic policies have benefited multinational corporations and wealthy elites at the expense of those at the bottom.

A rally against APEC was held by labor unions, which warned that working conditions would worsen. The summit ignored their calls for fair wages, better working conditions, and protections against exploitation. While APEC-backed initiatives have benefited large corporations, local communities have been disadvantaged.

Thailand's Bio-Circular-Green (BCG) Economy was a centerpiece of its APEC agenda. According to the government, the BCG model aims to address environmental challenges and promote economic development at the same time. The public, however, sees the BCG label as greenwashing, pointing out the disconnect between government rhetoric and action.

Thailand's leaders promoted sustainability on the global stage, but supported environmentally destructive industries at home. Deforestation, industrial waste, and fossil fuel extraction have been carried out without regard for local communities - the same communities that now bear the brunt of the impacts of climate change. In spite of APEC's promises, meaningful environmental protections remain elusive.

The year is now 2024, APEC 2022 promises have yet to materialize for ordinary Thais. Leaders have emphasized inclusive growth and environmental sustainability, but economic and social inequalities have only grown. Activists who risked their safety to protest the summit's inequities feel vindicated. One even lost their sight.

In a tragic irony, the APEC meeting - a chance to lift marginalized voices - instead became a symbol of exclusion. Many question whether these summits are truly about collaboration or merely political theater due to the Thai government's focus on showcasing itself to the world.

The issues raised at APEC 2022 remain urgent even as memories fade. There must be accountability for the commitments made by the Thai government and members of APEC. Activists, farmers, and workers who continue to fight for a fairer society continue their struggle even after the summit's final communique is signed. It is a fight that continues every day, on the streets and in the fields. They demand a future where promises are kept and no one is left behind, despite the spirit of the struggle withering away.

Moving beyond empty slogans and addressing real needs is the only way to make a meaningful impact. Anything less will only deepen distrust and resentment already sown by events such as the 2022 summit. To complete a painting, the green must be equally prominent and supported by the red, and it should not be overshadowed by the blue. Perhaps Thailand could display an appropriate and meaningful painting like this for all to enjoy.

The Air We Share

In 2023, Chiang Mai, Thailand, was ranked as having the highest PM 2.5 air pollution in the world. In light of this, a group of artists from Doi Saket, Chiang Mai decided to create artworks that reflected their experiences and frustrations with the current issues surrounding air pollution

Among the world's most polluted cities in 2023, Chiang Mai, Thailand, ranked first for PM 2.5 (Particulate Matter). These microscopic particles, only 0.3 micrometers in diameter, linger in the air for extended periods, penetrating deep into our lungs and even entering our bloodstream. Their presence is linked to a range of severe health issues, from respiratory diseases to cardiovascular conditions.

When I first learned about PM 2.5's devastating effects, I felt compelled to act but didn’t know where to start. My search for answers led me to an unexpected place: the vibrant art scene of Chiang Mai. Here, I discovered Art for Air, a movement where artists, activists, and academics channel their frustration with pollution into powerful works of art. Their dedication was inspiring, but a question lingered in my mind: Can creativity spark real change in the fight against climate change? As an artist and storyteller myself, I decided to join them in seeking answers.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve immersed myself in their creative processes and listened to their deeply personal stories about living with air pollution. One of the most striking conversations I had was with Sirawit Muenpiw, a young artist who grew up in a neighborhood overwhelmed by garbage. His poignant artwork features a bird’s nest constructed from trash, a haunting metaphor for his childhood.

“I grew up suffocating in a nest buried beneath garbage,” he explained. “No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t dig my way out.”

Another artist I spent time with was Jacob Black, a photographer from the UK. Coming from a country where clean air is taken for granted, Jacob arrived in Chiang Mai to document what it’s like to live in a city choked by pollution. His photographs capture both the eerie beauty and the suffocating reality of life under a toxic sky, offering a visceral reminder of what’s at stake.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve immersed myself in their creative processes and listened to their deeply personal stories about living with air pollution. One of the most striking conversations I had was with Sirawit Muenpiw, a young artist who grew up in a neighborhood overwhelmed by garbage. His poignant artwork features a bird’s nest constructed from trash, a haunting metaphor for his own childhood.

“I grew up suffocating in a nest buried beneath garbage,” he explained. “No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t dig my way out.”

Another artist I spent time with was Jacob Black, a photographer from the UK. Coming from a country where clean air is taken for granted, Jacob arrived in Chiang Mai to document what it’s like to live in a city choked by pollution. His photographs capture both the eerie beauty and the suffocating reality of life under a toxic sky, offering a visceral reminder of what’s at stake.

Art for Air was born out of frustration. Chiang Mai, once famous for its lush mountains and fresh air, now suffers from some of the worst pollution in the world. Every year, during the burning season, the sky turns a sickly shade of gray. The air becomes thick with toxins. Schools close. Hospitals fill up. People wear masks indoors, and air purifiers become a necessity rather than a luxury.

The artists behind Art for Air don’t just create for the sake of beauty. Their work is an act of resistance—a way to make the invisible visible, to turn air pollution into something tangible, something people can’t ignore. Their exhibitions feature everything from smog-filled glass bottles to immersive soundscapes that replicate the experience of struggling to breathe.

But as I spent more time speaking with locals, I began to wonder—who has the time to appreciate art when they’re struggling just to survive?

For many Thai people, PM 2.5 is not an abstract issue that needs artistic interpretation—it’s an unavoidable, daily battle. They don’t need an exhibition to tell them the air is poisoned. They wake up coughing, pay rising electricity bills to keep air purifiers running and watch their children miss school because the air outside is too dangerous to breathe.

Awareness is no longer the issue; survival is.

If the purpose of art is to reveal the truth, then Art for Air has already done its job. The question now is: What comes next? Can art move beyond awareness and ignite real change?

Some artists have already begun collaborating with scientists, activists, and policymakers to demand action. Others use their work to pressure the government for stricter anti-burning laws and cross-border cooperation. But change is slow, and the pollution crisis worsens every year.

So, can artists combat climate change? Not directly. They don’t have the tools to reduce emissions or enforce policies. But they have something equally vital: the ability to make people feel. In a world where statistics and news reports often go ignored, art has the power to stir emotions that drive action.

The real challenge now is turning that emotion into solutions. If there is one.

Dr. Panich Intra, the head of the research unit, Research Unit of Applied Electric Field in Engineering (RUEE) Laboratory, Doi Saket, Chiang Mai

To gain a better understanding of the issue, I visited the Research Unit of Applied Electric Field in Engineering (RUEE) Laboratory in Doi Saket, Chiang Mai, where I learned about how PM 2.5 is measured and monitored. Dr. Panich Intra, the head of the research unit, showed me the lab’s specialized equipment used to monitor pollution levels. The PM 2.5 concentration in Chiang Mai this month is between 197-200 µg/m³, well above the recommended safety threshold of 37.5 µg/m³, which indicates a risk of adverse health effects.

Dr. Panich shared some tips for reducing PM 2.5 in households, such as using an air purifier with a HEPA (High-Efficiency Particulate Air) filter, keeping windows and doors closed on high pollution days, and sealing any gaps in the home. It’s also important to vacuum regularly with a HEPA filter and wipe surfaces with a damp cloth to minimize dust. Dr. Panich also recommended limiting indoor pollution by avoiding smoking or burning candles, and using indoor plants or activated charcoal to absorb toxins. Finally, he stressed the importance of monitoring air quality levels and avoiding outdoor activities when pollution is high.

“Or just wear a mask at all times,” said Dr.Panit

Dr. Panich also demonstrated how PM 2.5 can be absorbed by the lungs through a modified machine, testing the effectiveness of face mask filters. According to his research, while regular surgical masks can filter 95–98% of PM 2.5 particles, they have a significant flaw—about 40% of air leaks due to their loose fit. This reduces their overall protection to 58%.

“If PM 2.5 levels are 150 µg/m³, wearing a surgical mask would still allow 63 µg/m³ of pollution to be inhaled, far above the safe limit,” Dr. Panich explained.

The issue is leakage. Surgical masks aren’t designed to create a tight seal like N95, KN95, or KF94 masks. While these respirators offer superior protection, surgical masks still provide defense.

The machine simulating human’s lung, RUEE LAB, Doi Saket, Chiang Mai

Wearing a mask can be a solution to reduce health risks during the burning season, but it also creates new long-term issues to come. The materials used to make these masks are not biodegradable. For instance, N95 are primarily made from synthetic materials like polypropylene, which do not break down easily in the environment. This means they can persist in landfills for a long time, contributing to environmental waste. Alongside the HEPA filter, as is designed to trap particles over time, simply throwing it away doesn’t clean out the pollutants it has collected. 

Thailand has long struggled with waste management, particularly plastic waste, and inefficient recycling systems. In areas where waste management infrastructure is lacking, there is simply not enough space to store all the waste. What’s the quickest solution? Burning. This adds to a perpetual cycle of pollution. 

“This is the new normal,” Dr. Panich noted. “We have to wear masks during the burning season, just like we would wear a jacket in winter.”

He added, “The world has changed, and so has our agriculture." We’re now in the era of industrialized farming, and with it comes even more burning. It will be difficult to stop the root of the problem. The only thing we can do is adapt and normalise it.”

Normalising problems is not new for Thai people. Those who are fortunate enough can easily adapt to it. But many earn below the national minimum wage, some cannot afford to modify their house to filter out the PM2.5, and some can’t even afford to buy the N95 Mask. 

"PM 2.5 is up in the sky, and I'm down here trying to make a living," one of the fish farmers in Doi Saket village told me. "I wake up at 5 a.m. every day to go fishing at the dam, and I come outside every day to sell fish. I don’t have time or the money to pay for an air purifier” 

Life carries on in the villages despite the sky turning grey. Kids go to school. The elderly meet up at the local market witnessing the tainted color of PM2.5 onto a canvas that is the air. This is the only art form that they have the time to appreciate in otherwise surviving. Can creativity breathe life into change? The answer is yes, as long as they still have someone left alive to witness it.

Twilight Alley

In one of the most luxurious metropolia in the world, there is a small community of people tucked away beneath the shadow of tall concrete buildings.

The majority of my childhood was spent traveling and living abroad, so I was never able to experience what it would have been like to live in Thailand as a child. Up until recently, I had always thought Thailand was a bad place to raise children. In some respects, that's true. Growing up here, children are trapped in a big box. As they were taught to keep quiet, not ask questions, and follow orders, outside of the ordinary is not allowed for them. Prior to leaving Thailand, I was always different from the kids at my Thai school. My way of being was not understood, so they cast me out. I was upset by the way they were, I didn't understand them, and I refused to accept them. Despite knowing that growing up in Thailand wouldn't be appropriate for me, my parents decided to send me away, not realizing the lasting effects it would have.

While it was a privilege for me to get out, I found myself getting lost in it. Thus, I was ignorant of my country, my culture, and my people. Regardless of my nationality, I would never introduce myself as Thai. As a result of pretending to be someone else, I became less authentic both in my work and in my personal life. In turn, my friendships and relationships with my family were damaged. For so long, I have been living in the dark.

After moving to Australia, I have lived the life I always dreamed of, but it is not the life I needed. After I finished my degree, I was left drifting in the dark and I didn't know what to do with my life, so I decided to leave. In spite of the fact that leaving Australia was a difficult decision, it was a necessary one. For a while, it was good once I returned to Thailand. I got to spend more time with my family and I finally understand what they were going through. Still, I felt unfulfilled because of the hole in my heart. I decided to travel around the country doing what I do best, capturing moments, to learn about the life I abandoned. For the past few months, I have documented the life of Thai people through my photography. After spending so much time behind a camera, I realize how neglected I have been. After experiencing their pains and joys, I have a better understanding of them.

During my travels, I came across a little community living along Bangkok's oldest trade route, the Saan Saab canal. Houses and alleyways are shadowed by tall concrete buildings. What once was is no longer. Despite living in poverty, the people stay ahead of the ever-moving city of Bangkok. After over a month, I returned because of my fascination with their way of life. They seem to find a way to push themselves out despite the repression this country has given them. For the purpose of living. And those are the things I have been missing, living. After returning thinking I would be able to help them, I realized they were the ones who had helped me in the first place. After reconnecting with the life that I ignored many years ago, I have gained a new perspective on it. The shadow of these alleyways once again forced me to realize that I could not see the light without darkness.