Headshot of Thomas Kubik, a white male photographer wearing a gray flat cap and dark shirt, facing forward against a teal background. Text on the graphic reads “Sensory Safe – Everyday Advocates” and “Thomas Kubik, Owner/Photographer, TK Photography Chicago and Austin.”

“Happy Kids, Good Photos”: What Inclusive Picture Day Actually Looks Like

How photographer Thomas Kubik figured out what the big box photography companies still haven’t

Let me tell you something that’s going to sound obvious but apparently isn’t: picture day doesn’t have to be traumatic.

I know. Revolutionary, right?

For families navigating sensory sensitivities, Autism, ADHD, or other neurodiverse needs, school photo day often feels like a setup for failure. The assembly line approach – next, next, next, tell me your name, two pictures, you’re done – works great for efficiency metrics and terribly for actual children. Especially children who need more than 47 seconds and a stranger barking “SMILE!” to feel safe. You CAN have an inclusive picture day.

Thomas Kubik, the photographer behind TK Photography Chicago and TK Photography Austin, has spent 17 years figuring out what should be obvious: when you meet children where they are instead of demanding they meet you where it’s convenient, magic happens.

Wild concept. Let’s talk about it.

The Part Where We Stop Treating Children Like Inconveniences

Here’s Thomas’s entire philosophy in six words: Meet the children where they are.

That’s it. That’s the tweet.

But let me tell you what that actually looks like in practice, because “meeting them where they are” sounds like inspirational poster material until you’re standing in a school hallway watching a child sit under a blanket refusing to come out.

Thomas has been there. Literally in the hallway, sitting on the floor, chatting about Halloween candy with a child who wouldn’t cross to his side of the school because he knew it was picture day.

“I had one child who knew it was picture day and wouldn’t even come to my half of the school,” Thomas told us. “So I went to him. He had a lovey and a blanket and wouldn’t come out from underneath the blanket. I said, ‘That’s cool. We’ll just sit in the hallway here.'”

They started talking. Favorite candy. Halloween plans. Eventually the stuffed animal peeked out from under the blanket. Then Thomas photographed the stuffy. Then the child got curious and wanted to see what his lovey looked like on camera. And by the end of the day? That child walked over to the actual photo setup on his own terms, got the full experience explained to him, pressed the flash button himself, and took portraits just like everyone else.

Two sets of photos went home to that family: one from the blanket hallway moment with his stuffy, and one from the regular backdrop. Both real. Both him.

This is what “meeting children where they are” actually means. Not a slogan – a practice.

Photographer wearing a gray cap, black shirt, and tan pants standing on a wooden bench outdoors under a bright blue sky, holding a camera and pointing to direct a photo. Another person in a light suit stands nearby. Trees and a fence are visible in the background.

The Playground Revelation (Or: Stop Making Children Come to You)

Here’s something the big box photography companies will never do: go outside.

Thomas has two children at one school who will not take pictures inside. Period. The gym with the lights and the backdrop and the whole production? Absolutely not. So guess what happens on picture day?

Thomas goes to the playground.

“The school lets me know when they’re in a good space for the day, and we meet outside,” he explained. “I don’t run right up to them like, ‘Hey buddy, you’re taking pictures right now!’ I ease into it. The therapist and I are talking, I’m getting shots while they’re playing. Eventually they’re comfortable with me being around.”

Sometimes it takes fifteen minutes for one child. And those parents get playground photos of their child being genuinely happy – instead of a forced gym shot with tears.

Imagine that. A photographer who would rather spend fifteen minutes getting an authentic photo than thirty seconds getting a technically correct one where the child looks miserable.

The Part Where Children Touch the Camera (And Parents Panic)

You know what scares a lot of children with sensory sensitivities? Flashing lights they can’t control.

You know what makes it not scary? Letting them control it.

“I let children touch the camera,” Thomas said. “Parents freak out when I do that, but there’s nothing they can really do to mess me up. If they’re nervous about the flash, I’ll take my trigger off and show them the button. Let them press it. When they’re flashing the light themselves, it turns into a party. Then it’s not scary anymore.”

This is such a simple insight it’s almost embarrassing that more photographers haven’t figured it out. The scary thing stops being scary when you give the child agency over it.

Same with the backdrop. Some children run into it like a drum. Same with the reflector – makes a cool sound when you bang on it. Thomas doesn’t freak out. He just works with it.

“If they don’t want to sit still, I get jumping photos. If they’re moving through the photo space, in and out, I just catch them when they come back. Sometimes we put them in a wagon.”

And here’s a trick so simple it’s genius: the blue tape.

“I’ll put a piece of blue tape on the floor. But I’m not like, ‘You have to stand on that tape.’ Instead I’ll step on it and say, ‘I made the blue tape disappear! Can you make it disappear?’ They step on it, and now they’re exactly where I want them without me telling them to stand there.”

Game. Connection. Photo. Done.

The Headlock Incident (And Why It Didn’t Faze Him)

Let me tell you about the time Thomas got put in a headlock by a teenager.

The child was bigger than Thomas – stocky, strong, and hesitant about getting his picture taken. So his therapist brought him down without the rest of the group. Thomas showed him the camera, took a picture, showed it to him on the screen. The child wanted to see every photo after that.

“He came over, started scrolling through the photos, got really excited… and put me in a headlock with his right arm,” Thomas said, laughing. “Squeezing my head and shaking me while holding the camera with his other hand. The therapist was like, ‘Oh my god.'”

Here’s the part that matters: Thomas didn’t panic.

“He meant no harm. He was just really excited. His way of showing joy was physical. The whole time I’m just keeping the camera safe, making sure the light doesn’t fall over. I’m not calling for help. The child’s gonna let go. He’s not there to harm me. Ten, fifteen seconds later, he let go. That’s just stuff you work with. Takes a lot for me to react.”

This is what experience looks like. Not getting rattled. Not making the child feel like they did something wrong for expressing excitement the way they express excitement.

Thomas also gets knocked over “bowling pin style” on running shots. Children grab his glasses off his face. Children bang on equipment. None of it throws him off.

“They’re just excited,” he said. And that’s the whole point, isn’t it? They’re having a good time.

Why This Actually Matters

Here’s what Thomas keeps coming back to: the emails.

“Where parents say, ‘I’ve never had them smile like that for a picture before.’ Or ‘We can never get them looking up for photos.'”

One family needed a passport photo for their older child at a therapy school. They’d tried Walgreens. It wasn’t happening – they couldn’t get the child to look at the camera. So Thomas took the cover off his reflector – it’s white on the inside – slipped it behind the child, goofed around like usual, and got the shot.

Those parents were able to apply for that passport because of that session.

Think about that. A passport. The ability to travel. Made possible because one photographer understood that not every child can walk into Walgreens and stare at a camera on command.

There’s also a child at one school who remembers the type of van Thomas drives. Really into cars. Every time Thomas shows up: “You got the such-and-such van, right?”

These relationships matter. The consistency matters. The fact that picture day becomes something children look forward to instead of dread? That matters.

Therapists at some schools say picture day is their favorite day of the year. They fight over who gets to bring children down because they want to watch those children light up.

 Photographer wearing a black shirt and gray cap standing in the foreground with a camera strap over his shoulder, directing a large group of students posed on steps in front of a school building. Adults stand nearby as the group prepares for a inclusive pictures outdoors on a sunny day.

The Part Where Many Photography Companies Fail Everyone

I’m just going to say it: the assembly line model of school photography is garbage for neurodiverse children.

“Stay away from the school photography companies that just hire warm bodies every fall,” Thomas said. “Those people barely have experience photographing children as it is.”

He’s seen what happens when inexperienced photographers try to work with therapeutic schools:

“We had a school call us last minute because their photographer set everything up, got ready to bring students down… and then just started crying and said they couldn’t do it. Packed up and left.”

Packed up. And left.

Meanwhile the children are waiting, the schedule is disrupted, and now the school has to scramble to find someone who can actually do the job.

“You want somebody who’s comfortable enough as a photographer that they don’t have to think about the settings,” Thomas explained. “You want them concentrating on the interaction with the child.”

What Parents Need to Know About Inclusive Pictures

For parents getting ready for picture day, Thomas has simple advice:

“Make sure the child knows about it. Help them relax. Say, ‘You’re having picture day – it’s gonna be so much fun! The photographer’s probably gonna be silly and you’re probably gonna laugh.'”

And critically: “Don’t be like, ‘You’re gonna need to sit still. You’re gonna need to smile. Give me your real smile.’ Yelling at a child to give you their real smile is never gonna get a real smile out of them.”

Feels obvious when you say it out loud, doesn’t it?

What Schools Should Ask Photographers

If you’re a school looking for a photographer – especially a therapeutic school or any school serving neurodiverse children – Thomas says to ask specific questions:

Look for a photographer who actually talks about photographing special needs children on their website. Search for that specifically.

Then ask them directly: What happens when a child doesn’t want to take photos? How do you deal with a child who doesn’t want to come into the room?

“If their answer is basically, ‘That’s your job to figure out,’ that’s probably not your photographer.”

The Myth That Needs to Die

“The biggest myth about photographing children with special needs? That you’re not gonna get good photos. That they’re not able to do it.”

Thomas’s response:

“They absolutely can.”

Happy Children, Good Photos

When asked what success looks like on picture day, Thomas gave us six words that could be a mission statement:

“Happy children. And good photos.”

Not “compliant children.” Not “children who sit still.” Nor “efficient photo sessions.”

Happy children. Good photos.

That’s it. That should be the baseline for every photographer working with every child. The fact that it isn’t tells you everything about why families struggle so much to find the right fit.

Thomas figured out how to do inclusive pictures. Maybe it’s time the rest of the industry did too.

Thomas Kubik is the photographer behind TK Photography Chicago and TK Photography Austin, serving all types of schools – from large public school districts to therapeutic settings to preschools – plus families across two states. He’s also willing to travel. To learn more or book a session, visit tkphotographychicago.com, tkphotographyaustin.com, austinschoolphotography.com, or chicagoschoolphotography.com.

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