'One Day, I Will' - A Journey to Noto, Japan
- studiohumanity
- Jul 4
- 5 min read

When I began One Day, I Will in 2014, I had no idea where the path would lead. The project started in the Central African Republic during a brutal conflict. I was photographing in churches where families had taken shelter. Despite the hardship around them, children kept following me, asking me constantly:
“Take my picture, take our picture, too!”
So I decided to make a deal with these children:
"Okay guys. If you want me to take a portrait of you, I want us to play a game. So, you will tell me what you want to be when you grow up and why — also show me this with whatever you can find around you. Just use your imagination. Then you will come pose for me, tell me about your dream. Go!"
That first day changed my life...
Ten years later, One Day, I Will has taken me to over 20 countries; from war zones to refugee camps, Ebola-stricken towns to earthquake-hit cities. To me, it’s way more than images or photography. I feel more and more that it’s about giving children - maybe for the first time in their lives - a full space to dream, and a voice to share it with the world.
And earlier this year, I found myself in Noto, Japan, a place struck by a devastating earthquake and landslides just a year ago, in 2024. The invitation came through a collaboration with OCHA and generous support from Kumon, who believed, as I do, that even in the wake of disaster, children carry the brightest hope.
When I arrived in Suzu City, the landscape felt eerily familiar. The streets had become open wounds, lined with the bones of broken homes. No lights, no hum of life, only a snow-capped silence blanketing the ruins. Scattered across the debris: a child’s toy, a clock forever struck at the hour probably when the disaster came, a pan turned cradle for ash, a comb still clinging to a thread of hair. Televisions cracked open like empty shells, once full of stories, now staring blankly into the void.
Photographer Vincent Tremeau taking photos in Japan’s Noto Peninsula, one year after the devastating 7.6-magnitude earthquake that struck on January 1, 2024, claiming over 240 lives.
All of it exposed, the intimate clutter of everyday lives laid bare, as if the walls had vanished just to let the world witness what was once private, what was once a home.
It reminded me of towns I had seen on the frontline in Ukraine.
And then, once again, something beautiful happened. I arrived at a school in Noto Peninsula unlike any I’d seen before. Warm smiles welcomed me at the gates. The principals and teachers received me with such sincere warmth that I felt instantly at home. They also gave me the most beautiful studio space I had ever been offered.

Soon, children began to arrive, dressed in their dreams.
The first child I met was a six-year-old named So, who wanted to become a firefighter. He had made his own fire hose from a vacuum cleaner tube, with blue paper stuffed inside to resemble spraying water. He looked up at me with wide eyes and said:
"Wow, you are so tall! I've never met a foreigner in my life! Why are you so tall?"
That moment made everyone burst into laughter, it was the kind of laughter that softens every edge.

The warmth of their welcome filled the room. One little girl wore a firefighter’s jacket, inspired by her father who had saved lives during the recent quake, brimming with determination and pride.
In many places I’ve visited, dreams are shaped, or limited, by what surrounds a child. If no one has ever seen a firefighter, maybe a few will dream of becoming one. But in Noto, where courage stood right in front of them in uniforms, helmets, and kindness, coming dressed up as a firefighter option became a main possibility.
And more dreams followed. There was a ten-year-old girl who dreamed of becoming an ice cream maker. Her dream? To bring her scattered classmates back together through sweetness and joy.

And then, an 11- year-old girl looked up at me with quiet confidence and said:
“I haven’t decided yet. But I want to have options.”
That sentence stayed with me.

While shooting or before, I don’t direct the children. They come as they are, with the stories and dreams they carry. My role is just to give them that moment, that space. To listen. To reflect their strength, voice, dreams - and our future- through the lens, so the world sees not just their struggle, but their spirit.
This isn’t about what job a child will one day hold. It’s about possibility. Dignity. Imagination. What we offer to our world. And the simple, profound right to dream, no matter the circumstances.
To the children of Noto: you turned the ruins into a stage for your hopes, dressed in bravery, lit by imagination. Thank you for reminding me that even the shaken earth cannot bury the will to dream.
To those visiting the Expo: thank you for listening and taking part in the change.
Thanks to this unforgettable experience, One Day, I Will is now entering a new chapter:
📍 This July, the portraits from Noto, alongside selections from the global series, will be exhibited at the UN Pavilion at World Expo 2025 in Osaka — from 2 to 11 July. It is an immense honor. Not just for me, but for the children whose dreams deserve to be seen.
🔗 Explore More
Dive deeper into the journey and follow along live:
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Peace,
Vincent Tremeau
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