The past five years for Shannon Collins, a wedding photographer who identifies as non-binary, have been filled with survival and self-discovery, all while Mx. Collins, captured the most personal and revealing moments of the celebrants.
In October 2019, Mx. Collins, now 39, underwent craniotomy surgery to remove a malignant lesion. In 2020, as the world shut down due to the coronavirus pandemic, Mx. Collins realized he was queer. A year later they added nonbinary to their identity. Then, in early 2022, they were diagnosed with autism.
A.D. Collins, who lives in Abington, Pa., with her husband, Peter Schuster, a software engineer at outdoor sports company REI, and their two children, Adelaide, 9, and Cameron, 5, said those monumental life changes “re-adjusted my whole existence and made me feel less broken.”
“These big transitions were affirming and healing and reminded me to celebrate myself and those around me,” said Mx. Collins, who is identified as disabled due to his diagnosis of autism and the effects of surgery. “The surgery limited the mobility of my left arm and now I have headaches and fogginess from the cold and wet weather. I also experience throbbing and buzzing in my ear.”
As for their autism, “I know a lot of people don’t think of it as a disability, but I do,” they said. “I’m sensitive to sound and missing cues from my body, like hunger or thirst. Eye contact is difficult and I’m constantly checking my body language because I have to curb the urge to swing, hit or jump.”
Finding a niche and a voice in the wedding industry can be difficult. For people with disabilities, it can be even more difficult. Few are as vocal and transparent as Mx. Collins, who has made their specific needs work to their advantage while creating a place and space for themselves and others within the industry.
A.D. Collins has learned to slow down, listen to his body, be aware of his emotional sensitivities, self-regulate his environment, and be specific about who he chooses to work with. “I look for clients who are also neurodeviant, disabled and autistic so I don’t have to cover up or hide my disabilities,” they said. In doing so, they are also trying to change the way the wedding industry portrays and views people with disabilities.
A.D. Collins, who photographs 15 to 20 weddings a year, believes part of the lack of representation “stems from the expectation of perfection when it comes to wedding days.”
“If you show any sign of weakness, you are dismissed as too much of a risk,” they said. “Especially on your wedding day when there’s so much pressure to get it right. Why would they hire me when they could just hire someone who isn’t disabled?’
A.D. Collins talked about what they’ve learned about themselves and how that knowledge influences and enhances their work. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
How did you start your career in the wedding industry?
After college I was editor of a local paper in Philadelphia that no longer exists, and then I was a content manager at generosity, a local social media outlet, also in Philadelphia. From 2007 to 2008, weddings became a special interest of mine when I was a blogger for a popular wedding website, Weddingbee. Photography has always been a passion. I started photographing weddings as a side job in 2009, reaching out to local engaged couples on the blog. I built my portfolio, invested in equipment, raised my prices and pursued wedding photography full time in 2013.
Who is your typical customer?
I’ve marketed myself as a queer, awkward, restless photographer who hopefully makes others feel more comfortable in front of the lens, so I tend to organically attract the same people. Most people find me on TikTok, Instagram or my website. I also work with non-disabled clients who approach me because they are excited to work with a supplier that aligns with their values. For me, that means advocating for safer, more inclusive, more diverse and more accessible industry standards.
How did you become so transparent?
It took time to see that my disabilities and queerness were valid. Saying I’m autistic or disabled highlights a part of my identity, hopefully reducing the stigma. I want people to see me as a whole person, including my disabilities. Having a public editing space allowed me to connect with a community of suppliers and customers and feel less alone in our shared experiences. This tends to make for a more affordable wedding day.
Do you think there is reluctance to hire a person with a disability?
One in four people is disabled. Being disabled doesn’t make you bad at your job. The ability in the wedding industry makes it so we do not have the opportunity to prove this. Industry and people tend to see people with disabilities as unfashionable or unattractive. By not working with us, people lose authenticity.
How do your disabilities affect the way you work?
I wear earplugs to reduce the noise level. I’ve learned to take breaks, ask for what I need, not take calls at night, and communicate transparently upfront so I don’t have to work with people who won’t be a good fit. I used to cover or camouflage my disabilities at weddings, but because I work with so many autistic and neurodiverse people, I feel free to be myself and feel understood by the people I photograph, who in turn feel understood by me . It creates a more authentic relationship and exposes all of us, so I get to take pictures that other photographers wouldn’t be able to take otherwise.
What makes your photography style unique?
Autistic people tend to be bottom-up thinkers, meaning we often see details before the big picture. I observe and try to find a way to creatively approach people. I also like to capture emotionally charged moments, along with smiles, as this is a truer experience of the day.
My photos tend to be more intimate and happy because I do most weddings myself and because I build relationships beforehand so we are not strangers on the day. I’m good at making people be themselves.
Although there is a stigma around people with autism who can’t read social cues, one of my strengths is reading people and noticing things like when they need a break. I often think about the sensory experience of photography, I think about how much flash I use and how that can affect people. My attention to detail enhances my work because helping couples know what to expect, regarding things like schedules or group photos, can be a lot less stressful.
How can the wedding industry be more inclusive?
The wedding industry often values trends like dramatic flower-filled staircases over the accessibility of actually walking up the stairs. Many venues welcome wheelchair users with stairs or gravel, telling them they can be transported if they want to attend. The obstacle in the wedding industry is not our disabilities but the mindset of the industry itself. The wedding industry needs to prioritize accessibility. We must hold spaces accountable to be physically accessible and ADA (Americans With Disabilities Act) compliant for all and work with vendors whose values align with disability justice.
What can couples do to make their marriages more inclusive?
If a wedding is hosted at a venue, is information included on their website and social media about accessibility details? Is your event space ADA compliant? Consider hiring an accessibility specialist, someone who looks at your wedding and determines where you have gaps you may not be aware of. Create a space on your website or in your invitations for guests to answer the question, what do they need — such as hiring an ASL interpreter if a guest is deaf — because this varies greatly from person to person. And provide earplugs for guests who are sensitive to sound.
What are some of the lessons you’ve learned since becoming a wedding photographer?
That I am strong and even funny, to some. That clients actually want to work with me when I drop the mask, which is both shocking and healing. I’ve learned to make others feel cared for in an industry that so often prioritizes the wrong things.