Pam Hackett Portfolio

I don’t just take photos, I love to catch people in the act of showing up for each other.

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On a cold April morning in Toronto’s east end, I’m standing curbside at the Beaches Easter Parade, watching for that moment when two women in bright yellow hoodies calling themselves “Bunny Security” appear. Spot the bubble gun.

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I love those moments that lift people up. Not in a forced way, just in a real, everyday way.  Capturing small windows into people. Imperfectly.

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I’m a former CEO, an author, and now a journalism student at Toronto Metropolitan University. But those titles don’t land for me anymore. Now in my third act,  I approach storytelling like a beginner but also through the lens of someone who has already lived a life.

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I’m not trying to chase perfection. I’m chasing connection. How people connect. My photos are about recognition. I see you, I hope whispers through them.  You may even think, I know that feeling. I’ve been there.

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My shift into photojournalism isn’t really a pivot so much as a pulling back. Looking for the story within. That philosophy runs through everything I do.

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A stilt walker wobbles slightly but smiles as kids look up with glee. A line of families in bunny ears gathering to be part of something together. Snowboarders launch themselves off snow-clad slopes at the R.C. Harris Water Treatment Plant, while people walking their dog stop to watch, forming an unexpected audience. In an empty restaurant on a city-wide snow day, the staff find the warmth in taking it slow. Mayor Olivia Chow awards excellence at City Hall.

 

These are all stories worth telling.​ And, there’s always a quiet thread in my images: we rise by lifting others.

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Today, I'm a long way from boardrooms and strategy decks. For almost four decades, I worked in business, led a publicly listed company, and advised organizations. I even wrote a book, Manage to Engage because research says that so many people hate their jobs (published by Wiley in 2021). And somewhere along the way, the language of business felt that way to me as well. It had become just a job.

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So I did something many people dream about but don’t have the opportunity to actually do, I started over. I went back to school.

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There’s a kind of lightness to my work. I hope.  Looking for the bright spots.

 

I live in hope.

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My photography is still evolving, but my direction is clear. I’m interested in people who show up. People who build futures, support each other, entertain, and include one another. The ones who make our days better.

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Because that’s the story I want to tell. How it feels, not just how it looks.

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And most importantly, who made it matter.

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I live in Toronto's Beach community, in Canada.