Covering disasters as a multimedia journalist
Q&A with freelance journalist Colleen Hagerty
When I see a journalist reporting live on TV—from outside of a courtroom or from a storm-torn coastline—it doesn’t really register as the same industry I’m working in, mostly from my laptop, an arm’s length from the news cycle, and never on camera.
Colleen Hagerty’s resume challenges that assumption, that print/online writers are in a distinct room of journalism while news anchors and on-screen reporters are in another. She’s done it all, with a focus on those storm-torn coastlines and all types of locations facing or recovering from disaster.
Colleen has been on the ground, in the midst of the news as it unfolds. She’s been in front of and behind the camera. And she’s spent significant time researching big stories from a distance, finding angles that are so often missed in the nightly news cycle.
Today, she combines her skills as a news reporter and a features-focused journalist by covering disasters from all angles as a freelancer. I was thrilled to learn more about how this multi-media approach is working for Colleen, how she manages the sensitive nature of climate disasters, and how her newsletter, My World’s On Fire, fits into her other work.
Writers, meet Colleen!
“I think disaster reporting can sometimes be too focused on a split second of someone’s life—the moment a wildfire burned their home or a tornado tore through their town—and I feel like that misses a lot about a person, not to mention the landscape that hazard met.”
— Colleen Hagerty
Britany: What was your very first journalism job?
Colleen: My first journalism job was what I considered an absolute dream at the time: I was a News Assistant at NY1 in New York City. I got to touch virtually all aspects of TV news in that role—pitching, producing, filming, writing, live shots, on-camera, control room, the whole deal—while working with and learning from a lot of talented reporters. Plus, I got to explore NYC neighborhoods and meet a fascinating array of people as I covered everything from breaking news to Fashion Week.
That said, I think it’s important to be transparent about the ways this industry takes advantage of young journalists in “dream jobs.” I made an incredibly low salary compared to the cost of living, worked wild hours, and received virtually no safety training despite regularly being sent alone to dangerous situations. Those are some of the reasons I ultimately left the role, despite loving the actual work involved.
How did you find your way to covering disasters?
I was working at NY1 when Hurricane Sandy hit New York City in 2012. I remember the gut feeling of recognizing in the days after the storm that this was just the beginning of the story—that the disaster had forever created a “before” and “after” for so many people. I ended up covering Sandy for years in that job (and still am), but I took subsequent jobs pursuing other beats, like politics. I sort of found my way back to focusing on disasters after taking a role covering features across the US—when given the choice, I kept gravitating towards communities vulnerable to hazards like hurricanes or wildfires and those recovering from them. Wanting to tell those stories beyond the usual impact and anniversary pieces was part of what pushed me to go freelance, and I’ve since become invested in dissecting the structural forces that shape disasters more in my work, as well.
Tell us more about that decision to go freelance and what it was like to transition.
I’ve gone freelance twice in my career after holding staff jobs. Like I said above, some of it was a desire to report on subjects that I was not able to cover as deeply as I wanted to in my staff roles. I also love the ability to experiment across platforms—working independently has allowed me to juggle TV, digital video, written, and photography projects. There were personal reasons both times, as well. It never was an easy decision for me, and I did a lot of planning before taking the plunge.
Do you think your experience on air and behind the camera has an influence on how you approach written stories?
It definitely shaped my approach to reporting, and while the “ingredients” for my interviews have changed, I think my process remains similar in a lot of ways.
For example, I know going on-camera can be stressful for some people, so I’d always bake time into each interview to get the person comfortable before I’d turn the camera on. When I started going out on assignments for written pieces, I realized that pre-on-the-record time was still essential for setting expectations and easing nerves—and often leads to better interviews overall, in my opinion.
As a freelancer, do you still utilize your multimedia experience or are you mostly writing these days?
When I first went freelance in 2019, I was doing a pretty even split between written and video journalism, with a bit of radio or photography in there to keep things interesting. The pandemic, to put it gently, absolutely demolished my multimedia projects for the vast majority of 2020—I had a number of contracts and assignments canceled. Pivoting to primarily written work was new for me, it was scary, and I took a financial hit that year as I tried to get my footing in this space.
I’m grateful to be back to doing more multimedia work, though it’s probably still a 70/30 split now between writing and those projects. I personally love the variety and getting to consider stories in different ways, and I hope to always keep working across mediums.
It seems a potential challenge in covering disasters would be falling into the cliches or criticism of "parachute journalism." How do you cover disasters while avoiding the assumptions or oversights that so often happen when journalists drop in on these stories?
This is something I think about a lot coming from a local news background—I remember what it was like when the national news showed up after Sandy. National and international outlets can play such an important role after disasters by raising awareness of situations, pushing for action and accountability, and driving donations. However, those publications rarely stick around for the long haul, and I've seen how that kind of coverage can create a whiplash for survivors and fail to capture what the disaster meant for a given community.
So, I try to really commit to the communities I cover. I do a lot of research on the areas I report on and familiarizing myself with local media is a key part of that. I also never report on a disaster-affected area with the intention of publishing a one-off story—I want to build relationships with sources there over time and keep those communication channels open for years to come.
When it comes to disasters, the number of potential stories continues to rise. How do you decide what to spend time on?
Since I try to be intentional about the way I approach these stories, I am limited in how many communities I can cover. Sometimes, I’ll get an assignment or be connected with a unique source, which can make the decision for me. But when I’m just looking at this current landscape we’re in—with over 40 percent of Americans living in counties that experienced a climate-related disaster in 2021—and trying to figure out what to cover next, I take a step back and evaluate what I can add to the conversation.
There’s often a lot of good reporting right around a disaster, so maybe it’s revisiting a community that has fallen out of the headlines but is thick in the recovery—what sort of challenges are they facing? What programs are or aren’t working to help them?
Or maybe it’s an area that’s never made it into the headlines in the first place, a town that didn’t historically flood but is now dealing with significant damage every time it rains. What resources are available to those people?
And I think disaster coverage often overlooks a lot of the bureaucratic side of things—for example, I realized last year that it’s not common knowledge what an emergency management professional does, so I wrote about that, as well as the experiences of some of those officials during the pandemic.
What has been the greatest challenge in moving from staff jobs to freelancing?
Getting to a place that feels sustainable as a freelancer has been tough for me, especially during the pandemic. Without the structure of a staff job, I struggle with overbooking myself, and I’ve stretched myself too thin more than I’d like to admit in pursuit of financial and professional goals. I was actually just listening to this podcast from The Writer’s Co-op, and it really hit home.
Building a sustainable career in freelance journalism is incredibly challenging, even when the potential stories are endless. So what are some things you've done that make it so that you can continue to do this important work? How have you built a career that feels sustainable as a freelancer?
I’ve felt most stable in my freelance career when I’ve had one or more standing clients that I contribute to on a regularly-scheduled basis. Having that consistent income is a huge relief for me, and it adds structure to my weeks. I’ve also been lucky enough to work with some great editors in these roles who are flexible with freelancer schedules so that I can also keep pursuing passion projects, like feature reporting and my newsletter.
It seems you do quite a bit of interviewing for your articles, often with people who are going through or have survived something difficult. Any advice on how to get someone to open up about these challenging topics? How do you get the details that really bring a story to life?
People who survive disasters are often dealing with trauma, and the challenges of the recovery process, which can be like a full-time job. If someone is able to give me their time, I never want to make them talk about something they aren’t comfortable sharing that could potentially compound that trauma, so I always communicate that with them before our interview begins.
When it comes to interviewing, I don’t just ask them about the disaster itself and focus on what was likely one of their worst days. I think disaster reporting can sometimes be too focused on a split second of someone’s life—the moment a wildfire burned their home or a tornado tore through their town—and I feel like that misses a lot about a person, not to mention the landscape that hazard met. There are structural forces that create vulnerable conditions, and when you speak to people in these communities about their broader experiences, those often come to light.
So, I’ll ask about their life before the disaster—what some of their favorite spots in town are or some of the things that make the area unique; what their personal interests are or what they do to wind down.
What were some of the challenges that existed there before the disaster? What sort of resources were or were not provided to meet them?
What has been the most challenging story for you to write and what did you learn in the process?
The first story that comes to mind is this dive into a Facebook group created for survivors of the Camp Fire. As I was reporting on the aftermath of that wildfire, I kept getting directed to this group—it had tens of thousands of people in it, and it became pretty prolific. But as the months went on, tensions arose and there were some ugly accusations. Ultimately, it was deleted.
Groups like this have become incredibly common after disasters, and I was really interested in learning more about the gaps they attempt to fill in the recovery process, how they are utilized and viewed differently within communities of survivors, and how they function on algorithm-driven social media platforms. I pitched it around a ton before it got picked up, so it was a good lesson in perseverance and finding the right outlet that would not only accept the pitch but also work closely with me and give me the space to navigate an emotionally-charged topic.
Tell us about your newsletter! Is this a source of income for you? What role does the newsletter play in your spread of work?
I originally launched my newsletter in 2020 to be a space to expand on my disaster coverage and amplify other reporting on the subject. It’s evolved a lot since then—I’ve written dedicated explainers, Q&As, and I’m even launching a book club. I’ve gotten story ideas and sources through it, and it’s also given me the ability to explore some of those threads that don’t make it into final drafts. While I feel strongly about keeping the more informative weekly posts free, I have rolled out a paid subscription option (which comes with additional content) to cover the costs related to producing it each week. My hope is to earn enough to hire an editor to work with on it!
That’s all for today, friends. If you’re a paid subscriber, I’ll be back in your inbox tomorrow with the usual big list of writing opportunities, including pitch calls, fellowship and grant deadlines, inspiration, and lots more.
If you’re still on the free list—don’t forget! February is the last month to get in on monthly pitch feedback. I’ll be removing that from the membership perks as I transition to working on new resources for subscribers. If you get in now, you’re locked in for feedback on one pitch a month!
Stay inspired,
Britany