Exposure Asks: how gratitude and change transforms our future
February 4, 2025
L-R: Anya, Dera, Yahvi, Amelie, Nataliya, Scarlett and Maleeha
Young women explore how confronting injustice and embracing growth drives progress
In a world moving faster than ever, we’ve come together to hit pause and explore two big ideas, gratitude and change. Gratitude is celebrating what we have and finding meaning in connection. Change, though often challenging, gives us the chance to grow and redefine who we are.
We ask how gratitude can help us recognise privilege and challenge inequality, addressing systemic injustices and encouraging greater youth political engagement. We also examine how to confront gender-based violence by raising awareness and demanding accountability. Additionally, we look at how change unfolds in our lives through transitions, relationships, art, and the pressures of unrealistic beauty standards exacerbated by social media.
Life’s transitions can be tough, but with gratitude and connection, they open us to growth and resilience. This project is about starting conversations, embracing what’s real, and living with more awareness. How can we use these ideas to shape a better future for ourselves and the world around us?
Scroll down and use the slider tool to see how we responded, and to view relevant thoughts and facts we wanted to share. The images on the left show how we felt, while the images on the right provide information on each issue.
A generation of young people in Gaza are lost to war and violence — by Dera Eneremadu, 16
As of January 16, 2025, according to a BBC report, Israel and Hamas have agreed to a ceasefire aimed at ending the 15-month conflict in Gaza. This agreement brings a brief but significant pause to the violence, a six-week ceasefire, the gradual withdrawal of Israeli forces and a prisoner exchange that will release both Israeli hostages and Palestinian detainees.
While there is the hope that this will mark an end to violence and the ongoing struggle in Palestine, the last 15 months have been a harrowing story of resilience and survival amid systematic oppression.
The brutality faced by Palestinians is stark. According to Aljazeera news network, since October 2023, over 46,000 Palestinians have been killed, including nearly 18,000 children. The Guardian reports that 90% of the population have been displaced, with hundreds of thousands of people living in overrun tent cities with little access to clean water and poor sanitation. According to reports, over half the hospitals have been destroyed with hardly any left functional. There are no schools in operation with almost every building damaged or destroyed. This level of violence is said to meet the UN’s criteria for genocide which includes the ‘intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group.’
Yet, despite this oppression, Palestinians persist in their demand for change. Movements by Palestinian students like Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) highlight global solidarity to end the oppression, while grassroots activism within Palestine works tirelessly to preserve culture, land and dignity.
In spite of their suffering, Palestinians celebrate life, honour their heritage, and hold on to hope
In 1948, over 700,000 Palestinians were forcibly displaced during the Nakba, an event that the United Nations describes as the start of a legacy of dispossession, violence and the denial of basic human rights. Still, even in these dire circumstances, Palestinians embody the dual power of striving for change and embracing hope and gratitude.
In spite of their suffering, Palestinians still find ways to celebrate life, honour their heritage, and hold on to hope. Gratitude emerges as a form of resistance, a refusal to let oppression erase their humanity. Farmers continue to harvest olives from their trees that are thousands of years old, symbolising rootedness and endurance. Families who have lost everything find solace in community, and artists create works that elevate voices, traditions, and culture. Check out more about Palestinian artist, Rawan Anani here.
This gratitude is not born of complacency, but of defiance, a reminder that, while their homes may be demolished and their lives shattered, their spirit remains unbroken. It is a testament to their resilience and a declaration that they will not be erased.
I feel that to honour Palestine is to stand against oppression and for justice. This means holding governments accountable, amplifying Palestinian voices, and demanding an end to occupation and violence. I believe change is possible, but it requires collective action and the courage to confront uncomfortable truths.
While the conflict hasn’t finished and the enormous task of rebuilding Gaza lies before the Palestinian people, I believe they can teach us that, even in the face of overwhelming odds, gratitude can coexist with the demand for change. Their perseverance serves as a powerful reminder that resistance and hope are always possible, even in the darkest of times.
Growing up, caught between fear and freedom — by Scarlett Fletcher, 17
Growing up, caught between craving freedom and clinging to the comforts of home. It’s a time of edges, sharp and soft, thrilling and terrifying. For many young adults, this journey toward independence takes longer than expected. In fact, reported in the Guardian, 32% of young adults aged 18-34 in the UK still live with their parents, a sign of the extended path to finding autonomy.
Our teenage years are a time of change. It’s like crafting a mosaic from shattered pieces of glass. Each fragment represents a moment, some bright and glittering with joy, others harsh and jagged with pain. At first, the pieces seem chaotic, scattered across the table, their edges raw and mismatched. You wonder how they could ever come together to make something beautiful.
Our early years can feel like choosing your colours. You hold a piece of translucent blue, representing your quiet days of self-reflection, and wonder if it fits next to the fiery red of rebellion that came from the fight you had with your parents last week. A shard of gold glimmers in the corner, the memory of your first real laugh with friends who feel like family. There’s also black, deep and inky, from the night you cried yourself to sleep, convinced no one understood you.
Some pieces break again along the way, and you’ll cut your fingers trying to make them fit
As you start to arrange the pieces, you realise the torn edges aren’t flaws; they’re what help them fit together. The sharp corners that hurt you are the same ones that give your mosaic its shape. The awkwardness of fitting in, the sting of rejection, the thrill of falling in love for the first time, these moments interlock, forming patterns you couldn’t see before.
Some pieces break again along the way, and you’ll cut your fingers trying to make them fit. But you keep going because each new fragment is part of the picture, even if you don’t fully understand it yet. You learn that the mistakes, the ones you wish you could sweep under the table, become the shadows that make the brighter colours glow.
By the time you step back and look at your work, you’re no longer just assembling a mosaic; you are the mosaic. Every piece, good, bad, and everything in between, shines in its own way.
Growing up doesn’t mean finishing the picture. It means learning to love the process, to see the beauty in the brokenness, and to embrace the masterpiece that you are becoming, one piece at a time. Change is part of it all – the shifting of the pieces, the adjustments, the letting go, and the acceptance.
Is youth really wasted on the young? – by Nataliya Tichoniuk, 16
‘Youth is wasted on the young’ is a common saying that young people are faced with as a rebuttal to their tendency to complain and fixate on their appearance.
Youth is a precious and valuable time that everyone deserves to enjoy. Youth is living life to the full, experiencing events, parties, festivals, having fun and creating memories that will last a lifetime. It’s a time for being careless and taking risks, along with learning some of life’s biggest lessons.
From what I can tell so far, most people look back on their youth as being the most colourful and vibrant time of their life, grateful for the opportunity of adventure, peak health and strength. While youth can be remembered as idyllic, when you’re actually living through it, you may not realise how significant this part of life it is.
It’s a well-known truth that, alongside the nostalgia and wistfulness that comes with reminiscing about youth, there can also be regret. Regret for not being more grateful for the vitality and innocence of being young. I’ve often heard adults offer advice to us, the young, urging us to appreciate our youth more and stop obsessing over things we can’t change, most importantly our appearance.
It’s now widely acknowledged that social media is detrimental to our well-being, regardless of age. It’s also well known that it has heavily altered and distorted our perceptions and expectations of our appearance.
Insecurities are magnified turning people into consumers of their own self-doubt
Stem4 recently reported that three out of four young people feel unhappy with how they look. The impossible standards set by social media leave no room for mistakes, bad days, or ‘weird’ bits, creating an environment that disregards the variability and beauty of being human.
The new generation, Generation Alpha, immersed in technology since birth, has only known the unrealistic beauty standards curated by social media. These children have become victims of the constant reinforcement of insecurity. They are most fixated on their appearance, primarily due to the beauty trends and tips they are exposed to daily on social media.
In reality, appearance has become a form of consumption – a commodity. Human bodies are placed under a judgmental lens on social media, where they are intensely scrutinised not only for flaws but also used as tools to manufacture insecurities. These insecurities are magnified and fed back into a cycle of online validation, turning people into consumers of their own self-doubt.
Social media has sparked a wave of hyper-fixation on our appearance, and the effects on young people are already visible. Girls as young as nine are engaging in extensive and expensive skincare routines, as seen on platforms like TikTok. This creates a vicious cycle where social media’s fake beauty constructs fuel anxiety, with the youngest generation being the most impacted.
To address the impact of social media’s beauty standards, raising awareness and promoting self-acceptance is key.
If you’re struggling with body image challenges, you can check out the following resources for support:
What does Trump’s return mean for students wanting to study in the US? – by Maleeha Morey, 16
The 2024 US presidential election was a moment of profound change. The first convicted felon was to occupy the White House. The morning of November 6th was a bleak one for many in the UK. There was a widespread sense of empathy, compassion, and growing fear for those in the US who felt directly persecuted by Trump’s campaign and subsequent victory.
I felt a sense of unease as I watched the events unfold. As a UK student with hopes to one day pursue post-graduate education in the US, the potential impact of Trump’s policies was impossible to ignore.
2024 has in some ways mirrored a worldwide political move towards extremism, with the success of Reform UK in the 2024 general election, the rise of the Alternative for Germany party (AfD), and subsequently the victory of Trump in the US. There is no doubt that the presidency of Trump will be a period of enormous change.
During his first term, Trump proposed eliminating a program that offers student loan forgiveness to public sector workers after ten years. According to Politico, his administration also attempted unsuccessfully to restrict debt relief for borrowers who were misled by their colleges. In his new presidency, Trump has created a Department of Government Efficiency led by Elon Musk and it looks likely that he will attempt to, at the very least, introduce cuts to the budget of the Department of Education. It is clear that US university students are unlikely to receive the same financial assistance they did under Biden.
These actions reflect the broader agenda of the Trump administration to cut public sector funding with little relief provided for university students. Despite running a populist campaign, Trump’s four-year presidency may push the US democratic system toward an oligarchy.
Trump’s education proposals may seem threatening, but his inconsistent record offers hope for students like me
The concept of oligarchy (meaning a small group of people who have control of a country or organisation) was emphasised by Bernie Sanders during the 2024 election. As reported by The Guardian, Sanders pointed to the actions and growing political influence of ‘President Elon Musk’ as evidence of ‘oligarchy at work’.
Trump’s first term also saw efforts to make substantial changes to the structure of federal education. As reported by CNN, during this time, his administration unsuccessfully attempted to merge the Department of Education with the Department of Labor. Despite these setbacks, Trump’s influence remained strong, particularly with Republicans gaining majorities in both the Senate and House.
Politifact reveals that Trump has proposed revoking the student visas of foreigners he deems to be “radical anti-American and antisemitic” at US colleges and universities. On January 21st, he signed an executive order to end birthright citizenship, which suggests that the general idea of revoking student visas is more aligned with his intolerant position on immigration. This idea is reinforced by the vagueness of what would determine a ‘radical anti-American and antisemitic’ foreign student, making this proposal weak, and highlighting why this would be a hard policy to deliver.
Unpredictably, Trump’s plan also includes providing green cards to college graduates, even those from junior colleges, to allow them to stay legally in the US after graduation. This is a somewhat surprising proposal from him, given his strong anti-immigration stance. This conflict of ideas shows the hypocritical nature of many of Trump’s policies, and according to statistics by Politifact, 53% of his election promises were broken during his first term.
Given this track record, it is unlikely that he will successfully implement the majority of his proposals regarding education and student finance. This gives me some hope that international students aspiring to study in the US will still be able to do so following Trump’s presidency.
Can something as ordinary as a toilet be considered art? – by Amelie Williams, 17
What is art to you?
Most people, when they’re asked what they consider art to be, will tell you about hyper-realistic paintings, intricate sculptures, or beautiful drawings, all of which require remarkable skill and craftsmanship. But art is much more than technical mastery. Art is a creation that evokes emotions, floods your mind with questions, and moves you to a deeper understanding. This broader view of art is exactly what the Young British Artists (YBAs) began to introduce at the end of the 20th century.
The YBAs, including Tracey Emin, Damien Hirst, and Sarah Lucas, transformed the art world by challenging society to reconsider what can be defined as art. These young artists pushed the boundaries of creativity, using unconventional materials and confronting taboo subjects. They took everyday objects and personal experiences and posed the question; is art determined by craftsmanship, or is it about the concept it conveys? The YBAs refocused art from technical skill and aesthetic beauty to the power of ideas, emotions, and the conversations their work ignited.
In 1993, Damien Hirst made a lasting impact on art history with one of his most groundbreaking artworks, titled Mother and Child Divided. It is a floor-based sculpture comprising of four glass-walled tanks, containing the two halves of a cow and calf carcass, each bisected and preserved in formaldehyde solution.
Although this work didn’t use specific or traditional art techniques, it unravelled an abundance of theories when first displayed to its viewers. Damien Hirst’s work compels viewers to confront profound and uncomfortable themes of life, death, separation, mortality, and humanity’s detachment from the natural world, highlighting the fragility of existence.
Nicholas Serota, Chairman of Arts Council England, stated, “Walking between the two halves and seeing the isolation of the calf from the cow encourages deeper readings of the work. Perhaps this is an essay on birth and death and on the psychological and physical separation between a mother and her child. For me, Mother and Child Divided is an unforgettable image, at once raw and tender, brazen and subtle.”
The YBAs showed how the definition of art has shifted from traditional techniques to a focus on personal expression
By raising such questions, Hirst moved his art away from brush strokes and sketch marks to a concept that forces the viewer to contemplate what they witness. This shift to a conceptual experience captures the essence of modern art; the freedom to redefine its purpose and expand its boundaries. Mother and Child Divided emphasises that art is more than just a pretty picture on a wall.
Alongside Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin helped steer art down a more modernised and psychological route. She pushed the boundaries with raw and poignant creations, emphasising deeply personal narratives and emotional expression. A quintessential example of this is Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963–1995 (1995), a tent appliquéd with the names of everyone she had shared a bed with, blurring the line between public and private spheres. This piece encapsulates the essence of modern art by evoking complex emotional responses. In this way, Emin embodies the transformative power of modern art, which seeks to provoke, challenge, and redefine the purpose of artistic expression.
Hirst’s exploration of mortality and the fragility of life, paired with Emin’s intimate and psychological creations like Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963–1995, reflects a broader transformation in modern art. This change prioritises ideas and experiences over aesthetic norms, redefining art as a means to engage with, question, and confront contemporary issues.
In the UK one woman is killed every five days – by Anya Wadhwani, 17
A few weeks ago, in my English class, we discussed male-female power dynamics, touching on the murder of Sarah Everard. The boy sitting next to me shuffled uncomfortably and defensively remarked, “Miss is making it seem like men just randomly kill women.” The problem is they do.
My concern is that many men fail to recognise the gravity of this issue. Refuge reports that one woman is killed by an abusive partner or ex every five days in England and Wales.
While this statistic is shocking, reducing the issue to mere numbers is desensitising. It diminishes each life, both simple and complex, to just another tally mark. Rather than stuffing this piece with statistics, profound as they are, I want to focus on an event closer to home.
Last summer, just a ten-minute drive from my area, Kyle Clifford murdered three women in their home. He stabbed to death his ex girlfriend, Louise Hunt, and killed both her sister, Hannah and their mother Carol with a crossbow. People were horrified and outraged. I was deeply disturbed, but also shocked by the aftermath.
The conversation, both in person and online, was entirely skewed. People called for an investigation into crossbow legislation, as if the weapon was the root cause of the problem. My family even sat me down to discuss how to spot abusive tendencies in men, almost as if Louise Hunt were to blame for dating and breaking up with her murderer Clifford.
By emphasising the need for women to protect themselves, we neglect the more urgent need to change how we raise and perceive men
The media coverage of the murders troubled me. The three women were lumped together, dehumanised, and the tragedy was reduced to a mere ‘incident’. Headlines referred to the ‘triple murder of John Hunt’s family,’ referring to the father and husband of the murdered women, failing to recognise them as individuals.
These were three ordinary women, simply living their lives. An event like this could happen to any woman, anywhere. The blame does not lie in their choices, behaviours, or lifestyles, but in a society that devalues women’s lives. I believe the murders were reported primarily to shock and gain clicks. This exploitation is deeply unjust.
Language plays a critical role in these situations. We often overlook the power of words. The way we communicate shapes both our conscious and unconscious beliefs. According to the Pyramid of Violence, developed by Tatiana Piper and Jackie Strohm, the first step toward physical violence is rooted in attitudes and beliefs, which are influenced by societal norms and the language we use.
By placing the responsibility on women to protect themselves, we overlook the more urgent need to change how we view and raise men. We must prioritise the development of emotionally aware, socially conscious men, to break toxic belief systems and prevent abusive behaviour from continuing.
The boy in my class made an offhand comment that underscores a larger issue, the lack of conversation about gender-based killings. Many young men don’t think it concerns them, while I, like so many young women, am hyper-aware of it.
Femicide is usually framed as a woman’s issue, placing the burden on victims rather than perpetrators, allowing men to avoid accountability and perpetuating silence. To create change we must shift the narrative, speaking louder and more frequently about gender-based violence until it is universally recognised and addressed.
Why do so many young people feel disconnected from politics? — Betty Iamandi, 17
Politics impacts my day-to-day life; the cost of my clothes, toothpaste, and overall living expenses are all tied to decisions made by people I don’t feel connected to. My voice feels small and overpowered. No one seems to hear me, and I often feel like I’m fighting a losing battle. But I don’t want to give up – I’m ready to shout until I’m heard. I want to be able to shape the decisions that affect my future.
The Electoral Reform Society’s report, highlights the deep disconnect between voters and political outcomes. It reveals how the current voting system fails to reflect the voices of many people, particularly young people, with the 2024 election marked as the most disproportionate in UK history. From my view, this disconnect isn’t just about voting, it’s about feeling excluded from the entire political process. Many young people, myself included, feel that politicians don’t hear us or understand what we go through.
According to the ‘Power, Trust and Change’ report by YoungMinds, 60% of young people believe politicians don’t listen to them, and 70% feel powerless as a result. Additionally, only 25% think politicians understand what it’s like to be a young person today. As a young woman, I can relate to this sense of disconnection even more acutely, with the lack of representation leaving me feeling marginalised.
Young people care about politics, but the system ignores us
The Electoral Commission’s overview on modern voting proposes changes like same-day voter registration and e-voting to encourage more people to vote. But, from my perspective, the real issue isn’t about knowing how to vote, it’s about feeling excluded from the entire political process.
A major barrier to engagement, revealed in the MYPLACE (Memory, Youth, Political Legacy, and Civic Engagement) study, is the exclusionary nature of political language. Political terms can be confusing or intimidating, making it hard for people to engage. This alienation only widens the gap, and it’s crucial that political messages be communicated in a more inclusive and accessible way.
The problem isn’t that young people don’t care about politics; we care passionately about issues like the cost of living, climate change, equality and education. The challenge lies in a system that feels distant and disconnected from our realities. Writing this has given me some hope. If we can address these barriers and rethink how politics engages with young people, change is possible.
How do we know when it’s time to let go? — Neve Griffiths, 17
Friendships, like flowers, blossom with the warmth of shared moments, laughter, and love, light and water. Yet, as time passes, we stand at the edge of something inevitable – one grip weakens as the other tightens, until the bond slips through our fingertips, we resist its escape.
As seasons change, so too do the people we hold dear. The weight of change can feel heavy and letting go may feel harder than holding on. Yet in this struggle lies a truth: not everything is meant to last forever. As we grow and change, so do our needs and desires.
Clinging to something that no longer serves us only holds us back. If a friendship no longer nurtures us, it cannot be good for either person. When one person outgrows the bond, it creates a disconnect; what was once mutual becomes strained and unbalanced. Letting go may be painful, but sometimes it is the most honest and compassionate choice for both people involved.
In releasing what no longer fits, we give ourselves the chance to grow into who we want to be. We learn to surround ourselves with people who fulfil us.
Fading Bonds: a poem about letting go
A vibrant flower. We tend to it with love and care, with water and light. It’s a friendship we share.
I’ve been resisting change.
But she draws the curtains, obstructing the light. I drown the plant with water, forcing this fight.
I’ve been desisting change.
Day by day, its colours drain, leaving me to gather the petals – each bent, brittle and lifeless.
I’ve been twisting change.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
In the quiet moments that follow, we reflect on what once was. Though the petals have fallen, the roots of our friendship remain buried in the soil of our past. Change is not always easy to embrace, but it is inevitable. We can choose to carry the lessons we learned with us or allow them to fade with time. Even as we walk separate paths, the seeds of our shared moments remain. Perhaps, one day, they will bloom again – unexpectedly and beautifully.
Are we blind to our privilege? — Yahvi Khimasia, 16
I’m too tired to go to school today.
She wakes up at 4 am to walk miles to get there.
I don’t feel like what mum has made for dinner.
She goes to sleep on an empty stomach.
I ignore the pile of homework on my desk.
She does hers on the floor by candlelight.
I complain about Netflix not loading in the evening.
She puts her younger brother to bed, soothing him to sleep.
In a place of privilege, we have begun to take what we have for granted. In moments of frustration, it is important to acknowledge that millions of people only dream of the lives we live, and although it is only natural to complain sometimes, gratitude is a vital quality to possess.
According to the Human Development Reports, over one billion people worldwide living in acute poverty, with more than half of them being children. Understanding this reality can help us reframe our perspective and give us a clearer appreciation of our own lives.
I often find myself grumbling about things, that, in hindsight, I shouldn’t. Whilst my emotions are only human, I can’t help but feel guilty when I see the lives of people who are less privileged than me; be it on social media or even in real life.
Having holidayed in Nairobi, Kenya, where much of my family live, I felt this unfair sense of inequality the strongest. Whilst we wandered through shopping malls and dined in restaurants, it was impossible to repress guilt seeing such poverty. Malnourished children, parents working from dawn until dusk and shoddily built homes filled our surroundings.
Maybe it’s ignorance. Maybe we need to see such a jarring contrast in living standards to appreciate our own lives. It’s easy to forget how fortunate we are until confronted with such blatant inequality. It reminds us that gratitude isn’t just about what we have, but about recognising the disparity and striving to make a difference.
