There are stories that shout, and stories that whisper. The work we did with Carers Trust sat firmly in the second category. Quiet lives. Heavy responsibility. Young people doing extraordinary things before most of us have even had our first coffee.

Carers Trust approached us with a deceptively simple brief: help them show what reasonable adjustments for young carers might look like in education. In practice, that meant something much harder. How do you make visible a group who are, by definition, hidden? How do you help teachers and education professionals understand the realities of young carers’ lives without blaming, shaming, or overwhelming people who are already stretched to breaking point?

This is exactly the kind of question that sits at the heart of what we do at Big Egg Films.

With, Not For

From the outset, this project demanded a co-production approach. We are not experts in the lived experience of young carers. Carers Trust are. More importantly, the young people themselves are.

So we worked with them, not by speaking for them. Young carers were supported to write the script. They directed the storyboard. They challenged our assumptions about what “normal” looks like when you are caring for adults, siblings, or both, before you even arrive at school.

That process matters. Especially when the subject is sensitive. Especially when the risk of getting it wrong is high. Ethical storytelling isn’t about polishing a message. It’s about listening long enough to understand what really needs to be said.

Why Animation?

Animation wasn’t a stylistic flourish. It was a safeguarding decision. A creative one. And a strategic one.

On a practical level, animation allows real stories to be told without revealing identities. No faces. No risk. No asking young people to publicly carry the weight of representation.

On a human level, animation creates a softer entry point into hard truths. The daily reality of a young carer can be bleak: disrupted sleep, emotional labour, physical care, responsibility far beyond their years. Animation doesn’t dilute that truth, but it makes it accessible. It “sweetens the pill” just enough that people can stay with the story long enough to really absorb it.

And crucially, animation allows us to show what is usually invisible. The morning before school. The caring that happens in kitchens and bedrooms. The quiet exhaustion that doesn’t show up in attendance data or behaviour reports.

Shifting Understanding, Not Assigning Blame

One of the biggest risks in projects like this is accidental accusation. Teachers are already under immense pressure. Telling them they need to “do more” without context helps no one.

This film wasn’t about calling anyone out. It was about calling people in.

By showing a day in the life of a young carer, the film reframes “barriers to learning”. Those barriers don’t begin in the classroom with a missing pencil or forgotten homework. They often begin hours earlier, at home, with responsibilities that most adults would struggle to carry.

When people understand that context, reasonable adjustments stop being “nice to have”. They become obvious. Necessary. Human.

Film as a Tool for Change

We talk a lot at Big Egg about film as a mechanism for change, not just communication. This project is a perfect example of why.

Teachers don’t need another ten-page document. They need something they can watch, quickly, that respects their time and intelligence while still showing the full reality of what young carers are navigating.

That’s where film, done well and done ethically, earns its place. It builds empathy without spectacle. It communicates complexity without overwhelming. It moves the needle quietly, but meaningfully.

Why This Matters to Us

Working with Carers Trust reminded us why we position ourselves as social value partners, not just content producers. Our role isn’t to arrive with answers. It’s to help organisations tell difficult stories in ways that are responsible, effective, and grounded in real lives.

When film is created carefully, collaboratively, and with respect for everyone involved, it becomes more than storytelling. It becomes infrastructure for understanding.

And in a world where everyone is stretched, that kind of understanding isn’t optional. It’s essential.