From Mail Room to Newsroom

By Joe Coughlin

The response was polite enough -- it just was not what I wanted to hear. "We’d like to use you on television," said the executive producer, "but we just can’t. It’s the immediacy of the medium. We wouldn’t have time to explain that you have cerebral palsy."

I had always known it would be difficult, but lifting myself over barriers and skirting obstacles had been part of life since I was old enough to fall. Graduating in 1975 with a joint degree in broadcast journalism and political science from the University of Windsor, I had already learned that most institutional doors are meant to be opened by able-bodied people. I was about to be confronted with the most intractable barrier yet: attitude.

"People would not be paying attention to what you were saying, Joe," he went on, sensing I had not understood the first time. "They’d be looking at your crutches and your crooked legs, and wondering what was wrong with you."

What was wrong with me -- or with the multitude of talented women who had tried to break into television newsrooms? With them, male viewers would be held hostage to their hormones and mentally incapacitated by the mere sight of a female anchor. With me, my "withered legs" and crutches would ignite such curiosity that the viewers of Canada’s premier news shows would drift off into speculative la-la land.

At least he was being honest. A few weeks earlier, I had been told that I was welcome to work for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). However, for persons with my education and experience, entry level meant working in the mailroom.

Yeah, right.

In the 15 years since that conversation, I have anchored a national news show the night Iraq invaded Kuwait, hosted three seasons of a highly rated national weekly news and current affairs program targeted to people with disabilities, and watched the sun come up after numerous all-night shifts on CBC Newsworld, Canada’s 24-hour news channel. I have seen talent blossom when affirmative action programs have received opportunities that were previously denied. I have shared the excitement of breaking new ground with individuals bursting with new ideas. And I have been dismayed when well-intentioned people, wanting the same ends, cannot agree on the means.

Most of all, I have been patient -- not by choice but by the reality imposed by generations of misconceptions and stereotypes, many perpetuated through media. At the same time, I have benefited by attempts to redress the imbalance.

Getting journalists with disabilities into mainstream media, though, is much more difficult, and until this happens and journalists with disabilities become assignment editors, news editors and anchors, many of the stereotyped attitudes and barriers will persist. Other groups in society face similar problems. Women, people of colour, aboriginals, gays and lesbians: All have mounted campaigns to ease representatives into positions of influence. Issues become mainstream when significant numbers of people with influence are affected.

By the very nature of disability, those affected face additional barriers, physical and attitudinal, in breaking into and advancing as journalists. And the situation is getting worse. In an era of media downsizing, those with seniority are the ones to retain their jobs; journalists with disabilities are not on this list.

For those lucky enough to land a first job, it is likely to be covering the disability beat, an assignment that brings many rewards (and a few heartaches too). The achievements of people with disabilities can become big stories in mainstream media. "What determination! An inspiration to all!" they suggest. But they also lend themselves to stereotyped coverage. As a journalist, I want to recognize these achievements without stereotyping.

Story selection is another contentious issue. Accusations of oversight are inevitable because of the diverse nature of disability itself; covering every constituency equally is impossible. Other issues to consider are the balance between an individual’s rights and the responsibilities of society, and the role of humour in covering disability issues.

One of my major television contracts was to be co-host of "The Disability Network" (D-NET), a program produced, directed, written, edited and hosted by men and women with disabilities. In addition to serving the information needs of the disability community, the show was to be a springboard for launching staff into positions with mainstream shows.

Covering all the possible issues of interest was a challenge, and we were accused of not covering the broad spectrum of the disability community. For example, people who were deaf or hard of hearing repeatedly criticized us for not producing enough stories tackling their concerns. They may have been right. The issue was largely one of language -- American Sign Language (ASL). Unless an interviewer knows it, getting the story can be difficult. Another barrier is that people without hearing have developed their own culture. Without the benefit of knowing the language, understanding and appreciating Deaf culture is a barrier for many journalists.

These barriers admittedly represent the extreme. However, every group in the disability community has a somewhat different agenda from other groups. There are now organizations representing people with virtually every disability known: multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, visual impairment, hearing impairment, learning disabilities, cognitive disabilities, mental impairment and others. Politically, then, the broad community is splintered.

The broader question raised is this: If people with disabilities have difficulty communicating among themselves, how can they hope to speak in unison to the mainstream media? In truth, the expectation is not a fair one. People with disabilities are no more monolithic than African-Americans, women, aboriginals, gays and lesbians, or any other group. But the reality is that given the choice, reporters and editors go for the simple story -- the statement that, in less than 10 seconds or two lines, sums up the aspirations of millions.

There is another related issue here, and it concerns organizing the community. When I interviewed John Owen, chief editor of CBC News, I asked how women’s issues, aboriginal issues and the African-American experience became part of mainstream media agenda.

"Well, they demonstrated," Owen replied. "They made a lot of noise." He suggested organized protests. "Do something that’s going to attract our attention so that we can get a three-minute piece onto the national news -- or at least get a 30-second sound bite out of it."

Native peoples, African-Americans and the other groups can climb on a bus and get somewhere. But for people with a physical disability, going anywhere beyond the front door can mean having to book transportation four days in advance -- if it is available at all. Organizing a rally, or even a meeting to plan a rally, can be tremendously difficult. By the very nature of disability, public protest is much more difficult to organize and mount than for others.

Other barriers are more subtle. For a public relations professional, often the first step toward generating a story is to take a journalist out for lunch in an effort to get to know the person. But people with disabilities are usually not familiar with business lunch culture; if they are, they can still be intimidated by the logistics of making sure they have access to or can use the rest room.

One of the hardest aspects of hosting D-NET was maintaining balanced coverage. Having a disability myself was both a help and a hindrance. I was in touch with the issues, but living the life every day tended to make me identify very strongly with those whose struggles -- and triumphs -- we profiled.

To a certain degree, covering these stories -- and simply working on the show -- was a form of advocacy. We were fair but did not pull any punches, either. We gave "comfort to the afflicted, and afflicted the comfortable," as a 19th-century humorist advised the media.

For the most part, though, we were preaching to the converted. The vast majority of the viewers of D-NET were already aware of the key issues of concern to people with disabilities. Going into the new season, I asked myself, "What have we achieved?"

First, we did consciousness raising. The show has been written about in media journals and in the country’s dailies. The single largest piece of coverage, however, was a bit of a windfall. Within the first eight weeks of broadcast, D-NET won the Into the Mainstream Award from the Alliance of Canadian Television and Radio Artists (ACTRA), a prize given to media groups for the positive portrayal of persons with disabilities and other minorities.

Actually, it was not the award that put us in the limelight; it was our inability to receive it. On the day of the ceremony, two of our staff who used wheelchairs discovered they could not enter the premises; stairs led up to the building, and no ramp could be found. Both the ceremony and dignitaries had to be moved outside. It must have been the first time people with disabilities had attended, because apparently no one had checked access.

The mainstream media had a field day. Toronto’s six and eleven o’clock news covered the story, and it made the front page of the city’s largest paper. ACTRA later apologized for the oversight, but in fact we could not have made the point better ourselves.

Beyond the irony of this situation is a more serious, and unsettling, issue: mainstream media organizations’ minimal understanding of disability issues, which is reflected in their attitude toward journalists with disabilities.

First, there are the physical barriers. My first professional interviews with "Challenge Journal" in 1988 were in a station probably typical of most others. The studio was a flight of stairs down from the dressing rooms, rest rooms and make-up rooms. We taped 13 shows in six days, switching costumes three times a day. I changed in the prop room on the studio level; on a number of occasions, I was standing half-dressed when someone walked in looking for supplies. Physical barriers like this one have prevented many aspiring journalists from even entering the field, let alone advancing.

The need for "door openers" like DNET is clear. However, opportunities for journalists with disabilities seem to be more limited than before. One problem is the economic recession. The trend in television broadcasting is to give the anchor jobs to veteran correspondents with years of experience.

There seem to be two issues: What is an appropriate entry level for journalists with disabilities? How should news organizations approach affirmative action, especially in tough economic conditions?

Most journalists with disabilities would have difficulty with the job of field reporter. It is a gruelling pace for anyone, let alone someone with limited mobility. And there are other barriers. Reporters push, shove and do not observe niceties. Many news conferences are held in inaccessible locations. A foreign correspondent’s job description includes diving from bombs and ducking bullets.

There is certainly a strong argument that field experience is helpful for an editor, assignment editor, or anchor, but is it really necessary? No. It is possible to built the necessary skills through programs like DNET; it has been a vital proving ground for me and others.

The question of affirmative action in hiring and firing is a tough one; there is no doubt that white able-bodied male journalists are penalized, especially in a recession. Do they deserve to pay the penalty for generations of exclusionary hiring? Should female journalists be asked to step backward to aid a minority? I don’t know. But if journalists with disabilities are ever to get into mainstream media, seniority rights alone cannot determine layoffs.

Legislation in Canada continues to strengthen the rights of people with disabilities to participate fully in mainstream activity, including journalism. Perhaps it is the only way change will come.

I am hopeful that the next generation of television journalists will reflect the broad spectrum of society, including people with disabilities. And I look to the spirit of human progress for assurance that those who would work in the newsroom are no longer asked to start in the mail room.

(Joe Coughlin is president of Simu Management, Inc., a full-service management communications consulting company. He is also involved in freelance writing, television and radio, and is an accomplished jazz vocalist.)