Quite unintentionally, this site became dedicated to the talented and surprising Michelle Dockery. My aim is to provide fresh material and perspective for her fans.
In the 'Michelle Dockery Professional Archive' link below you will find the most complete collection of her screen performances on the internet.
I am based in California.
Michelle is using her fame to do valuable work, she hopes her efforts will ensure many Syrian families can survive the forthcoming cold weather.
Since last winter the number of refugees fleeing into neighbouring countries has soared to at least four times the size it was a year ago.
This time last year, the refugee population in Lebanon was 100,000, now it is around 1million.
During her trip with global charity Oxfam Ms Dockery visited refugees from Syria living in Jordan, she has been deeply affected by what the things she has seen.
The actress said: “What I have seen and heard on my trip is hard to put into words.
"I met families who have had to leave the homes they have been building for years, mothers who have fled with their children leaving husbands and loved ones behind, unsure when they will be reunited.
Speaking passionately she added: “All of the refugees I met were experiencing a terrible suffering which is hard to comprehend.”
A good friend of mine works at Oxfam and has been closely involved in the charity’s aid efforts in Syria. After talking with her, I realised I had been unaware of the magnitude of the humanitarian crisis there.
It became clear to me that many of the refugees had come from a life not dissimilar to ours – with jobs, homes and families – but the war had robbed them of the life they knew and loved. I wanted to learn more and help, which is why I was very keen to visit.
But what I saw and heard during my brief time at the Zaatari refugee camp in Jordan is hard to put into words. The camp is home to more than 120,000 Syrian people – people whose lives have been torn apart by the ongoing conflict in their native land.
The Syrian families I met had fled their towns, their cities, their homes, seeking haven in this remote patch of Jordanian desert until the civil war ends. But they do not know when that might be.
They live in a sparse, makeshift city, most of them in rudimentary tents or caravans that offer little shelter from the harsh elements. They have been forced to live in a present not of their making – and do not know what their future will hold.
Yet despite what they are going through, and the traumatic conditions under which they are forced to live, the people I met on my first day at the camp remained positive, cheery and house-proud, even in those meagre tents or caravans.
One woman, Um Fouad, had come to the camp a year ago with her husband and four children. When I arrived at their caravan she insisted on making coffee for our group. Hospitality is a very important custom in Syrian culture and, as their custom dictates, she waited for everyone to settle on mattresses on the floor before entering the room with a tray of coffee.
After she had served her guests, she began to speak about the relatives that she had left behind.
Her biggest fears are for them – she does not know what has become of them.