We were lucky to catch up with Maedeh Ojaghloo recently and have shared our conversation below.
Maedeh, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?
The most meaningful project I’ve worked on is Beyond Shattered Honor. This project confronts the brutal reality of honor killings in Iran—acts of violence where women are murdered by their own families in the name of so-called “honor.”
The root causes of these killings are deeply embedded in systemic oppression, including child marriage, patriarchal laws that strip women of autonomy, and a legal system that often protects perpetrators rather than victims. Through photography, sculpture, digital archives, and installations, Beyond Shattered Honor sheds light on these injustices, giving voice to silenced victims and demanding accountability.
This project is also personal to me, not just as an artist, but as someone who believes in the power of visual storytelling to challenge oppressive narratives and inspire change. By documenting these stories, I hope to expose the realities many women face and contribute to the fight for justice and equality.
Maedeh, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?
I’m Maedeh Ojaghloo, an Iranian multidisciplinary artist, social activist, and educator. My journey into art has always been deeply connected to my passion for justice and storytelling. Long before I ever called myself an artist, I was listening—sitting with people whose voices had been silenced, witnessing stories that the world often ignores. It was through these encounters that I realized the power of art to do more than just represent reality—it can challenge it, disrupt it, and demand change.
As an immigrant artist whose first language is not English, I’ve always relied on visual language to speak when words felt limiting. Art has been my way of breaking barriers, of reaching people across cultures and experiences. It allows me to start conversations that might otherwise never happen. My work focuses on stories of resilience—whether it’s children forced into labor, women trapped in oppressive systems, or the broader injustices that shape our world.
One of the most difficult but meaningful aspects of my work is earning trust—especially from people who have every reason not to trust the world. I’ve worked with children who had forgotten what it means to play, women who had lost their sense of self, and families whose pain had been ignored for generations. I don’t just document their realities; I create spaces for them to be seen and heard on their own terms. Whether through photography, installations, or digital archives, my work is about pushing back against silence.
I believe that art is not just about making things look beautiful—it’s about making people feel uncomfortable in the right way, about challenging what we think we know, about pushing boundaries and shifting perspectives. That’s what sets my work apart. It’s not just about storytelling; it’s about action.
What I’m most proud of is using art as a way to educate and empower. Whether through my installations, research in media arts and social justice, or teaching, I want people to walk away from my work thinking differently—to ask questions they hadn’t before, to feel something new, to recognize that they, too, have a role in shaping change.
For those discovering my work for the first time, I want them to know this: my art is not meant to be passively observed. It is meant to be felt, engaged with, and questioned. It is for those who refuse to stay silent, for those who believe that art can be a force for justice, and for those willing to see the world as it is—and imagine how it could be different.
What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
At the heart of my creative journey is a simple but urgent mission: to use art to challenge injustice, give voice to those who are often unheard, and create spaces where difficult truths can be seen and felt. My work isn’t just about making images—it’s about making people stop, think, and question the systems that shape our lives.
I’ve always believed that art has the power to do more than just represent reality; it can disrupt it. Whether I’m creating an installation, researching media arts, or building interactive experiences, my goal is to push beyond storytelling and into action. I want my work to unsettle, to provoke, and to remind people that silence is a choice—one we can refuse to make.
More than anything, I want my work to reach the people who need it most—not just in galleries, but in conversations, movements, and moments of change. If even one person sees something I’ve created and feels less alone, or more willing to fight for justice, then I know I’m on the right path.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
One of the hardest but most meaningful parts of my journey has been working with children trapped in labor, kids fighting cancer, and families—especially women—who are struggling to survive in impossible situations. Many of them had lost faith in the idea that anyone cared. They had been let down too many times, and trusting someone like me—a stranger with a camera and questions—was the last thing they wanted to do.
I remember sitting with a mother whose child was battling cancer. She barely spoke at first, her exhaustion heavier than words. A young boy labor looked at me like I was just another person passing through, someone who wouldn’t stay long enough to understand. And honestly, I understood their hesitation. Why should they trust me?
So I stopped asking and started listening. I sat in silence when needed. I let the children draw their own stories instead of speaking them. I let the women share on their own terms, in their own time. Slowly, things changed. A child who once avoided eye contact started showing me his drawings. A mother who had lost hope began to open up about her dreams for her children.
That’s when I truly learned what resilience means. It’s not just about pushing forward—it’s about adapting, learning how to meet people where they are, and earning trust in the quiet moments. Whether it’s in my work, my own life, or navigating new challenges, I carry that lesson with me. Resilience is about holding space for others, even when the world tells them they don’t matter.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://beyondshatteredhonor.com
- Instagram: @maedehsframe
Image Credits
Image name: Ojaghloo_Maedeh_Beyond ShatteredHonor2024,
Photographer: Karina Scalisi