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Facing the Inferno

by Tom Burton

As a kid growing up in northern California, Kent Porter would sometimes hop on his bike and take a camera with him to photograph wildfires in the area. Fires like these have always happened there, and decades later Porter still follows them with his cameras.

Over the years the weather has changed. Winds blow hot and dry, and vegetation grows fast and then dries out quickly. As a staff photographer with the Press-Democrat in Santa Rosa, California, Porter has had a busy run these past few years covering fires.

“We live in a tinderbox all year long now,” Porter said. “It’s a new beast out here.”

Fires that in the past would take weeks to burn through a region are now moving at terrifying rates, destroying the same amount of acreage in just hours. The Hanly Fire in 1964 in Sonoma, Napa and Lake counties took a week to burn through. The Tubbs Fire last October in the same area took eight hours to burn the same area.

Porter said the winds in these fires are so strong that not only embers but burning pine cones and small branches are flying in the air.

For photojournalists covering wildfires, it is a balance of caution, experience and persistence to succeed while still being safe.

Noah Berger, an independent photographer who contracts with the San Francisco Chronicle, The Associated Press, Reuters and others, has also covered his share of wildfires. He worries about safety and getting the best photos possible and guides all those decisions through his personal priorities list.

First priority: Don’t get in the way of the firefighters.
Second priority: Residents, their safety and their property.
Third priority: The journalist and the pictures.

“We have a right to be there,” Berger said, but “we’re not the story.”

The veterans carry safety gear with them throughout fire season. Fire-resistant suits with Nomex fibers are standard, along with helmets, boots and gloves. Masks are used by many photographers, often the face-sealing N95 respirator designed to filter at least 95 percent of the airborne particles. Most journalists also attend fire safety courses given by the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, also known as CalFire.

Independent photographers can spend several hundred dollars on this gear. Staffers, such as Marcus Yam of the Los Angeles Times, have company-provided gear. He even carries a second suit with him in case he is quickly paired with another journalist who doesn’t have a fire suit.

Yam is relatively new to wildfire coverage, having only been covering them for the past few years.

He has benefited from the wisdom of other photographers who have been generously sharing their tips, even as they were all heading into fire zones.

“The basic edict they taught me was always have an escape plan. Always,” Yam said. “In a moment of panic, you may not know where to run. That needs to be predetermined.”

Yam found himself using that strategy covering the Thomas Fire near Ventura, California last December. He had reasoned, based on wind patterns, that a fire in Santa Paula would eventually burn into Ventura. He drove there and ended up at Grant Park, a hilltop overlook. Ten minutes later, the fast-moving fire had reached there.

Fire was jumping houses, and people were scrambling to evacuate. Yam told himself he would follow the last person out. His escape route was simple to choose. There was only one street in and one street out.
He waited about a minute too long, by his estimation. He drove past a wall of fire and could feel the heat even inside the car as he left.

He cruised through Ventura, ending up in the foothills where a mansion was burning and there were other media on site. Yam noticed a palm tree blazing at another house, and as he approached, he heard men screaming and shouting.

Five young men, friends from high school, were using hoses to wet the roof of the house to save it from the fire. They had seen the fires from a distance and come to help. It was not even their house.

Yam said the scene was apocalyptic and dark. Even with his camera set at 3200 ISO, the exposure was 1/15 of a second. Large embers were being blown about and burned his Nomex jacket, and he was soaked by water blasted into the air from the hoses.

Getting close to wildfires is risky, and the most recent fire behavior is making coverage more dangerous. Some veteran photographers recommend firefighter-level training before going into the most active scenes.

“This stuff is killing firefighters who are doing it professionally,” said Stuart Palley, a Los Angeles-based independent photographer who works with the Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, ABC News and others.

In addition to investing in fire-safety gear and the basic safety course, Palley has gone through additional training to get an Incident Qualification Card, commonly known as a Red Card. The tests given through the National Wildfire Coordinating Group certify a person’s training and experience in firefighting. It is designed to make it easier for firefighters traveling from other areas to integrate with the local crews.
Palley took a week of field training in addition to online courses for the course. He also took the “pack test,” a 3-mile hike carrying a 45-pound pack that must be completed within 45 minutes.

With this preparation, it is easier to concentrate on photography because he can also work knowing the mindset of a firefighter, Palley said. He also gains respect from the firefighters and is focused first on not impeding their work.

For him, covering fires is similar to a military embed, and he is working very closely with the crews. While some might worry about being too close and “going native,” Palley said he is able to handle the balance.

“You can still get a fair and independent story,” he said.

Hilary Swift had no experience covering wildfires but knew Ventura County very well. She graduated the Brooks Institute, the art college based in Ventura that closed in 2016. She got a text in early December from her best friend who lives there now, letting Swift know that she was evacuating because of the expanding Thomas Fire.

Within hours, Swift let her home in Brooklyn, New York, and was on her way to Ventura. She is a frequent contributor to The New York Times, which had her assigned by the time she landed in California.
Though she hadn’t covered wildfires before, she knew from living in California that they are dangerous. Working on her knowledge, she opted not to get too close.

“Too often I see young, unexperienced photographers running into situations they’re not prepared for,” Swift said. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t done it in my past, but I didn’t want to put myself, the firefighters and potentially other people in danger.”

She touched base with her former professors from the Brooks Institute, and one lent her a fire jacket. They also offered advice, as did photographers Mischa Lopiano and Patrick Fallon. She also learned that, in addition to fire safety and staying out of the way of firefighters, photographers covering the wildfires should be aware there is a lot of poison oak in the California woods.

Though she has recent experience covering major breaking news events, this one was different. Swift feels a personal debt to Ventura, a place where she learned photography and where many of her closest friends still live. Four of those friends lost homes in the Thomas Fire.

“After spending 2017 jumping from hurricane aftermath in Houston and U.S. Virgin Islands to Las Vegas after the shootings, it felt strange to be brought back to this place that I love while it was in crisis,” Swift said.

There are few women covering wildfires, and Swift found she often stood out. She had rented a minivan – the cheapest car and not one she’d recommend for covering wildfires. At checkpoints, the first response was to try to turn her around, but her press pass helped her get through.

“I think as a youngish woman people constantly underestimate or overly explain things to you, which can be really frustrating,” Swift said. “But you can also learn to use it to your advantage.”

The indications are that the wildfires will continue to get worse. California fires are a unique story because state law allows journalists to be as close as the firefighters to the fires, and as close to the danger.
Porter said he and his colleagues at the Press-Democrat have done an excellent job covering the fires these last few years. They are experts in reading the factors that combine to create raging wildfires: humidity, heat, winds that are often hurricane-force and the terrain. These fires are also regularly threatening homes.

For Porter, his experience covers more than three decades. His 18-year-old son is training to be a firefighter. But these wildfires are changing and becoming more dangerous.

“We’ve had to learn a little more about what fire can do,” Porter said. “I’m still scared of them, but I know more about them than I did three years ago.”

Trauma-informed journalism: What it is, why it’s important and tips for practicing it

Experts and journalists who have researched and worked with trauma survivors say that practicing trauma-informed journalism not only leads to better, more accurate stories, but also helps protect survivors from further harm.

by Naseem S. Miller | April 13, 2022 |

You may have heard the term “trauma-informed” in the context of health care, education and, more recently, journalism. In general, being trauma-informed means recognizing that trauma is common and people may have experienced serious trauma at some point in their lives.

Trauma-informed practices first took shape in medicine, after the medical community began to understand trauma and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Other fields, such as education and law, have also been discussing trauma-informed practices.

“Trauma-informed journalism” is a relatively new term, even though covering trauma — ranging from storms and fires to sexual assaults and homicides to mass shootings and wars — has always been a part of journalists’ work.

Trauma-informed journalism can mean different things to different people, says Tamara Cherry, who worked as a crime reporter for nearly 15 years and is the author of upcoming book, “The Trauma Beat: Victims, Survivors & the Journalists Who Tell Their Stories,” slated for publication in Spring 2023.

“Trauma-informed journalism means understanding trauma, understanding what a trauma survivor is experiencing before you show up at their door, and understanding how your actions [as a journalist] will impact them after you pack up and leave,” says Cherry. “It’s also about creating the safe and predictable spaces. It’s about forgetting all the rules that we usually abide by when we’re interviewing school board officials and politicians and recognizing that when it comes to trauma, we need to be treating our interview subjects differently.”

Discussions about trauma-informed journalism are becoming more common due to a confluence of factors, including the COVID-19 pandemic and an increased hostility toward journalists. Together, these elements “have really made it clear that for journalists to do their jobs, they need to understand trauma more, so that they can tell better stories,” says Elana Newman, research director at the Dart Center for Journalism & Trauma at Columbia University and McFarlin Professor of Psychology at the University of Tulsa.

This explainer and tip sheet on trauma-informed journalism is based on a review of several reliable sources on trauma-informed reporting and interviews with Newman of the Dart Center, and Cherry, founder of Pickup Communications PR agency, which provides services and tools for victims and survivors of traumatic events, the journalists who cover their stories and the criminal justice sector. We use The Dart Center Style Guide for Trauma-Informed Journalism as our source for defining trauma-related terminology.

“Trauma-informed journalism means understanding trauma, understanding what a trauma survivor is experiencing before you show up at their door, and understanding how your actions [as a journalist] will impact them after you pack up and leave.”

Tamara Cherry

1. Understand that trauma impacts the brain, including the memory and the ability to vocalize events as they happened.

Trauma results from an event, series of events, or set of circumstances that are physically or emotionally harmful or life threatening to an individual, and have “lasting adverse effects on the individual’s functioning and mental, physical, social, emotional, or spiritual well-being,” according to the U.S. Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

Trauma can significantly affect a person’s perception and judgment. When faced with traumatic situations, the brain can go into survival mode and people can suddenly feel and behave differently from their normal selves. “That’s why eyewitnesses to traumatic events are notoriously unreliable. It’s also why even seasoned journalists at moments of high emotion can sometimes get it wrong,” according to the Dart Center’s “Trauma & Journalism: A Guide for Journalists, Editors & Managers.”

Trauma impacts the brain, memories and a person’s ability to vocalize their stories, says Cherry. Immediately after a tragedy, “we as journalists are asking people to tell their stories, when quite often they literally can’t,” she says. “So, we might think that we’re getting their story, but really, we’re getting whatever version of their story that their brain is coming up with in the moment.”

But months down the road, when the sources have had time to heal a little and they’re not in fight or flight mode, we might actually get a more accurate story, Cherry says.

2. When getting informed consent to tell a trauma survivor’s story, err on the side of overexplaining.

In the context of trauma-informed reporting, informed consent means informing your sources about the nature of your story and having their consent to use their name and report on their experiences. While this is an important aspect of reporting many stories, trauma-informed reporting requires journalists to err on the side of overexplaining.

“Don’t assume [sources] know what terms like ‘on the record’ or ‘on background’ mean. If that’s something you’re discussing, make sure to be extremely clear about how they will or won’t be identified,” writes journalist Alice Wilder in “Trauma Informed Reporting,” published for Transom, a nonprofit organization that brings new voices and ideas to public broadcasting via workshops and its website.

Give your sources the option to review their quotes or even to change their mind about being quoted before a story is published.

In writing her book, Cherry allowed the people she surveyed and interviewed — including more than 100 trauma survivors — to review the parts in which they were quoted or where their stories were used to ensure their continued consent and accuracy of the survivors’ accounts after her initial interview.

“I knew enough about trauma to really appreciate the weight of responsibility that I had to get this right and to not cause further harm,” she says. “I wanted them to be able to review their excerpt, but I didn’t want it to leave them in a dark place. I wanted it to leave them in a better place.”

“Don’t assume [sources] know what terms like ‘on the record’ or ‘on background’ mean. If that’s something you’re discussing, make sure to be extremely clear about how they will or won’t be identified.”

Alice Wilder

3. Give power to survivors during the interview and storytelling process.

Journalists are trained not to let sources pick which questions they want to answer, see the questions ahead of the interview or the story before it’s published. But when it comes to interviewing survivors of trauma, it’s OK to break those rules. Let your sources know that they have control of the situation.

“One simple way to raise their comfort level is by not pushing any questions that they are not prepared to answer,” writes Maggie Doheny in her article “Best Practices for Trauma-Informed Journalism,” published by the Reynolds Journalism Institute in December 2021.

The Dart Center’s guide, “Tragedies & Journalists,” has five tips for interviewing victims of trauma:

  • Always treat victims with dignity and respect.
  • Clearly identify yourself.
  • Never say “I understand” or “I know how you feel.”
  • Don’t overwhelm your source with the hardest questions first.
  • If you receive a harsh reaction, leave a number or your card and explain that survivors can contact you if they want to talk later.

In the aftermath of a tragedy, prepare yourself for a wide range of responses from survivors. “Bear in mind the emotional impact of what has happened. Approach people with care, respect and kindness. Take a moment to introduce yourself, make eye contact and explain why you would like to talk to them. Take it slowly and don’t rush — however chaotic the circumstances. Don’t just stuff a microphone in someone’s face and expect an interview,” according to the Dart Center’s trauma and journalism guide.

“Never ask that most overused and least effective of journalistic questions: ‘How do you feel?’ You may get tears in response, but you’re not likely to get a coherent, useful or meaningful answer. ‘How do you feel?’ is the one question survivors and victims consistently say they find the most distressing and inappropriate. Better options include: ‘How are you now?’ or ‘How did you experience that?’ or ‘What do you think about …?’” according to the Dart Center’s trauma and journalism guide.

“Opt for open-ended questions and let subjects know that they’re not required to answer questions,” advises Wilder in her Transom article. “Instead of ‘Start at the beginning’ or other chronological based questions ask, ‘Where would you like to begin?’ or ‘Would you tell me what you are able to remember about your experience?’”

Wilder also advises against questioning why your source is emotional: “Even if the traumatic event was long ago, or if it doesn’t seem ‘that bad’ to you, their reaction should be respected,” she write. She also advises against saying “I understand what you’re going through” or “I know how you feel.”

Ask survivors what they would like to achieve in telling their story, advises Cherry.

And if you’re producing a podcast, video, or a printed story about a crime or tragedy that happened in the past, make sure the survivors are aware of it and are extended the opportunity to include their voice and be part of the process. “Because if they’re not, then they could really feel like we are talking about them behind their back,” says Cherry. “Or they can be surprised by it because they might not even know [the podcast/show/story] is happening.”

“‘How do you feel?’ is the one question survivors and victims consistently say they find the most distressing and inappropriate. Better options include: ‘How are you now?’ or ‘How did you experience that?’ or ‘What do you think about …?’”

Dart Center’s Trauma & Journalism: A Guide For Journalists, Editors & Managers

4. Have a plan for your interviews.

If you’re interviewing a trauma survivor, think about how you’re caring for them before, during and after the interview.

Let survivors pick the place of the interview, so they can feel safe. Tell survivors what questions you’re planning to ask, Cherry writes in her tip sheet. Ask if there are questions you should avoid.

During the interview, make sure survivors aren’t reliving the event. Find out if they want to take a break.

At then end of the interview, thank your sources and let them how their interview will be used and when to expect the story, advises journalist and author Jo Healey in “Reporting on Coronavirus: Handling Sensitive Remote Interviews,” published in 2020 on the Dart Center’s website.

5. Don’t forget about your own mental well-being.

Over the years, research has shown that journalists’ job can affect their mental health.

Depending on their beats or work locations, 4% to 59% of journalists have symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, according to the Dart Center.

Journalists should be aware of signs of trouble, which include inability to concentrate, feeling on edge or numb, or inability to feel compassion for sources, Newman explained in a 2021. Other signs include inability to sleep, feeling angry, or excessive use of alcohol.

Here are five self-care tips from the Dart Center’s 2009 guide, “Tragedies & Journalists“:

  • Know your limits.
  • Take breaks.
  • Find a friend or colleague who is a good listener.
  • Find a hobby, exercise, spend time with family and friends.
  • Seek counseling if you feel overwhelmed.

Newman also shared self-care tips for journalists in 2021, which we summarized in “Self-care tips for journalists — plus a list of several resources.”

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