In the aftermath of police killings, official law enforcement accounts often shape news narratives and the public’s understanding of events. The talking points are consistent: Law enforcement agencies at all levels of our government, as well as the United States military, justify their violence toward civilians by claiming they are protecting the safety of their officers from an unruly, noncompliant public. 

This was the case a decade ago this month, when Baton Rouge officers fatally shot Alton Sterling after claiming that he had a gun on him. Advocates called for a trial to look into possible police misconduct, but detractors refrained from taking action, claiming that it was Sterling’s noncompliance that got him killed. The day after Sterling’s death, officers in Falcon Heights, Minnesota killed Philando Castile in front of his partner and daughter, even though he complied with the officers’ orders and informed them of the firearm in his vehicle. Is compliance the issue?

Police officers are rarely tried in court for shooting civilians, and even if they are (like in Castile’s case), they are often acquitted of wrongdoing. In Rocco’s case, family members and organizers were determined both to challenge the narrative that noncompliance should justify the killing of civilians by police and to try the officers responsible for murder. They organized a campaign that painted a more complete picture of the teen, sharing stories about Rocco the grandson, Rocco the volunteer, and Rocco the person who deserved to lead a full life. They also harnessed the power of Stockton’s media environment to raise questions about accountability and transparency, and about how Robinson’s death could have been prevented. 

How can other advocates similarly challenge problematic narratives surrounding police brutality and other forms of state-sanctioned violence? And how can we translate those efforts into meaningful policy and systems changes that bring justice to families like Rocco’s? 

To learn more, I attended a police brutality forum hosted by Rocco’s family and local organizers. The forum offered meaningful insights into the tactics community messengers can use to counter dominant narratives about police violence. Berkeley Media Studies Group’s Layers of Strategy framework offers a structured roadmap for understanding how Rocco’s advocates moved from highlighting an individual tragedy to working to achieve specific policy changes. Advocates working on any public health or social justice issue can use the framework to move conversations beyond isolated incidents and toward systemic accountability.

Overall strategy

Before you know what you want to SAY, you have to know what you want to DO. When embarking on an advocacy campaign, advocates should first define the specific problem, articulate its policy solution(s), and identify the targets, allies, and actions necessary to achieve change. Otherwise, advocates risk spinning their wheels with general awareness campaigns that don’t actually change systems.

For Rocco’s family, the problem was clear: Stockton Police Department and other local media outlets portrayed Rocco as a gang-adjacent, violent adult who threatened officer safety. They disregarded how Rocco volunteered at Stockton’s local Buddhist temple and how he cared for his grandmother and little brother. This negative portrayal reinforced the dominant narrative that the police are right to execute civilians who don’t comply. 

Undeterred, his family set out to advocate for policy changes that would bring about justice for Rocco and for other families hurt by police violence. The goal was to build and motivate a critical mass of Stocktonians — primarily those most likely to encounter local law enforcement — to hold police accountable. By spreading Rocco’s story and encouraging other local victims and survivors to tell their own, they could push back against the dominant narrative.

Rocco’s family coordinated with the Bay Area chapter of Dare to Struggle, a multinational advocacy organization focused on ending police brutality and holding police accountable for violence; Stockton Stands, a Stockton, California-based abolition group founded during the 2020 George Floyd protests; and other local partners to address the slanted portrayal. The family and organizers coordinated “Justice for Rocco” week, a series of public demonstrations and community engagements that told the real story of Rocco Robinson. They also sought to put public pressure on the San Joaquin County District Attorney and other law enforcement agencies to achieve three objectives:

1. Release the full footage of the shooting of Rocco Robinson, along with details of the investigation into the situation;
2. Launch an investigation into police misconduct by an independent agency; and
3. Charge and try officers Kyle Ribera and Ruben Rillon for murder.

Media strategy

Advocates should think strategically about whether media attention is necessary and beneficial for their campaign. Often, media engagement can help advocates reach their target audience to advance their primary goals.

Tragically, Rocco is no longer here to defend himself, so his family must carry the burden of making his real story known. Unfortunately, this is the case for most families affected by police violence. BMSG previously analyzed news covering 162 fatal officer-involved shootings that occurred in 2017 and found that only about 10% of cases generated five or more articles about the incident. This was primarily due to the attention drawn by the victims’ families, whose advocacy and continued calls for justice sparked momentum for enhanced police accountability measures, such as in the case of Desmond Phillips from Chico, California. 

Despite urging law enforcement to cease defaming Rocco’s character, his family continued to see victim-blaming press briefs, social media posts, and harassment by police and local social media channels. For this reason, Rocco’s family decided that getting the attention of local media, particularly the newspapers The Record and Stocktonia was the best way to spread Rocco’s real story — that of a soft-spoken and family-oriented young man — to the rest of the city. 

They leveraged the police brutality forum to garner media coverage for their demands for greater accountability and transparency from the Stockton Police Department, San Joaquin County District Attorney’s Office, and other local law enforcement agencies. They sought answers from the police about their protocol for investigating police-involved shootings and adjudicating matters of police violence. 

Message strategy

No message is received in a vacuum. Every person encounters a story, argument, or direction in the context of their lived experience, culture, pre-existing beliefs, and social environment, all of which influence their support. 

Taking that into account, Rocco’s family framed their messages around the shared value of justice to create compelling messages that would resonate with their intended audience. But their effort wasn’t without hiccups. During the forum, an attendee asked Rocco’s family what the message “Justice for Rocco” meant. In a room full of people with varying relationships to law enforcement and varying knowledge of Rocco’s execution, they quickly realized that individuals within the audience might have different ideas of what “justice” actually is. 

Rocco’s mother reiterated the family’s demands. They wanted: 1) transparency, with the full release of the details of the situation, 2) an investigation of police misconduct by an independent agency, and 3) officers Kyle Ribera and Ruben Rillon charged and tried for murder. “Justice” in this case diverges from the status quo: Virtually all police departments investigate misconduct internally. Police are rarely tried in court for their misconduct. When their actions are deemed improper, they’re rarely convicted and stripped of their duty; instead, they are transferred to other police departments.

To fight back against the status quo and the dominant narrative of impunity that comes with it, the “Justice for Rocco” campaign’s message needed to be fairly consistent. Inconsistent messaging allows opponents to exploit contradictions, whereas a disciplined messaging strategy keeps the public’s focus on the advocates’ values and policy goals. It is also easier for diverse messengers and partners to repeat to their audiences. 

Access strategy

Even the best message is useless if it’s never received. Advocates should manage the timing and methods of pitching newsworthy stories to the media to ensure their messages reach their intended audiences.

Through these actions, the family and advocates gained the attention of local newspapers. Rocco’s mother, Samantha, told her story of learning about the death of her son and the difficulties of achieving accountability and transparency from local law enforcement. Articles highlighted the number of demonstrators who were activated to call for justice and their various experiences with police violence. This helped make the community aware that there is a network of people who have lived with the trauma of police violence and are motivated to end it in Stockton. The movement even caught the attention of the local police officers’ union, which issued a panicked response aimed at discrediting the mobilization. But the message was already spreading — the narrative that non-compliance justifies police brutality was flipping in Stockton.

The fight continues…

During the forum, one of Rocco’s family members shared how several people approached her with their own stories of surviving SPD brutality after seeing the “Justice for Rocco” sign she placed in the trunk of her vehicle. Her story demonstrates that while their message is successfully breaking the spiral of silence about the Stockton Police Department’s continued brutality, the work to translate these stories into tangible institutional and policy changes must continue so that we can preserve the lives and dignity of families closest to the violence. 

Too many people in this country, and across the globe, are being killed by U.S. police and military, and we are being bombarded by the same propaganda that justifies the deaths in the name of compliance. Movements like “Justice for Rocco” Week demonstrate the multi-faceted, organized approach we must use to fight back against a media machine that reinforces dominant narratives to justify state-sanctioned violence.

The post Flipping the narrative about state-sanctioned violence appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

Because moments like these remind us that health is built collectively and expands beyond the walls of clinics and public agencies. Public health starts with the conditions people live and work in, and those conditions are shaped by power. The people who set wage policies, decide whether hospitals stay open, and determine who gets protected by the law and who doesn’t hold tremendous power over our daily lives — power that they are not going to simply hand over. So, we must raise our voices to demand change. 

From time to time, I try a simple exercise: imagining what the world would look and feel like if we achieved racial and health equity. A world where everyone has what they need to be healthy. Things like jobs with dignity that pay enough to live and leave people with time to spend with family and friends. Good schools. Transportation that connects us while taking care of our Earth. The peace that comes from having a roof over our heads and a full belly each night. Laws and policies that see people as fully human and ensure their rights are protected. And if I’m truly dreaming big, we’d all have the things we need not just to survive, but to thrive. 

It can be hard to really picture this, but each time, I try to push a little further. 

In this vision, I’m still working hard at a job I care about, but I’m not carrying the quiet fear of whether I’ll be able to retire, or whether an illness could undo everything, and in my deepest dreams, everyone has a sense of ease, including me. When I go for walks with my friends, there would still be hardships — the loss of a loved one, the heartbreak of a relationship that didn’t work out — but we’d spend more time talking about things that excite us, things that bring us joy, like sending a child off to college without worrying about the immense debt, or staying close to loved ones as they age and having supports to help with their care. There would be no fear of friends and neighbors getting caught in ICE raids, and we wouldn’t have to worry about how to stay in the Bay Area we love when homeownership and security are beyond the reach for many. I would be excited for the children in my life and how their paths will unfold, without the creeping fear that wildfires, rising oceans, and extreme heat will rob them of their futures. 

The barriers we need to remove to create this world are not abstract. They were named on the signs I saw at the march from my public health colleagues and all of our allies who work tirelessly to make this dream a reality. Signs that connected wages, working conditions, housing policy, and climate policy to our collective health. For the resource fair, there were tables helping people connect to health services, housing advocacy, saving our public transit, and connecting people to ways to stay engaged between and beyond voting. The messages on our signs challenged Congressional decisions that funnel money to ICE while our public hospitals close, and called out decisions that fill the pockets of corporate CEOs while children go to bed with empty stomachs. 

At the march, I was reminded that many others clearly see these connections and have been acting on them for generations and that public health does not, and cannot, go it alone. The generational wisdom was on full display in Oakland — from our elders who have been marching for decades to youth raising new questions in new ways that push my thinking. The solidarity was also clear: While some groups and signs forefronted a single issue, there was a lot of love and support for one another and recognition that our causes are interconnected. 

For those of us in public health, especially when we are tired, stretched thin, or unsure how to engage when this moment asks something different from us, the march reminded us that there is always a step forward, a way to move toward the world we try to envision, the world we want to live in, and the world we all deserve. I didn’t walk away from the event with complete answers. But I did walk away with a deeper sense that we are not alone — that there is a wellspring of people who will continue to dream of a world where everyone has what they need to live healthy, fulfilling lives, and who are organizing every day to bring that world closer.

The post With community and collective power, we can create an equitable future appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

If someone had told Jolie Foreman that one day she would be speaking on a televised broadcast to 10 million viewers, she wouldn’t have believed them. The topic, firearm suicide, can be overwhelming even in private conversations, let alone on a national platform.

“Two years ago I couldn’t hardly get up at church and talk about it. … I get terrified — like stress city,” Foreman said. 

Foreman is the director for Shelby County Cares, a nonprofit in rural Missouri that supports the well-being of farmers, a group with three times the general population’s risk of suicide. She and a cohort of volunteers connect them and their families to mental health resources and challenge the stigma that causes too many people, especially men, to suffer silently instead of reaching out for help. 

She emphasized that the impact of gaining national coverage made the short-term stress worth it. 

“The coverage created credibility and visibility that small, rural organizations rarely get,” Foreman said. “It opened doors to new partnerships, speaking invitations, funding conversations, and collaborative work we simply wouldn’t have had access to otherwise. More importantly, it shifted the tone of conversations, from ‘Why does this matter?’ to ‘How do we help?’”

To learn more, we sat down with Foreman, who shared what the interview process was like, from the intake call to being vulnerable on camera to viewing the final edit. Her experience offers valuable lessons for advocates considering media engagement on any issue, especially emotionally charged or controversial ones. 

Media and messaging tips for advocates

Start small and leverage connections. 

Before Foreman connected with 60 Minutes, she already had experience pitching to and being interviewed by smaller outlets. “Start local — don’t hesitate to reach out and tell them you have a story you would like to share and why it is significant,” Foreman advises, noting that local publications are often excited to have fresh content. Over time, that persistence pays off, not just because of short-term news attention but also because it can help advocates build connections and create exposure that catches the eye of larger outlets. Both of these factors can lead to coverage outside of direct pitching. Foreman’s opportunity with 60 Minutes is a case in point. That interview came about because one of Foreman’s contacts with the U.S. Farm Report, a syndicated television program focused on agriculture and rural issues, dropped her name to 60 Minutes. 

Clarify your purpose and boundaries before the opportunity comes.

Remembering your “why” can help you clarify your message and calm your nerves. For Foreman, this meant switching from a mindset of a perfectionist to that of a servant to a cause. “There was this drive in me that I had a mission to deliver on this subject matter, knowing that a change could be created because of it,” she said. Focusing on the broader impact of the story also helped her to navigate some of the heavier emotions that she knew would arise with a topic like firearm suicide — one that has touched her family personally, with the deaths of her husband’s great grandfather and two uncles. “Anchor yourself to a purpose, not just the pain,” she said.

Additionally, although Foreman and her family were open and vulnerable on camera, they considered ahead of time what details they were comfortable sharing. “You don’t have to tell everything to tell the truth,” she said. “It’s okay to set boundaries around what parts of your story are shared publicly.”

Expect to act quickly.

Journalists often face intense deadline pressure, so speed and responsiveness matter. Being able to say “yes” quickly — and follow through — can make the difference between coverage and a missed opportunity. After an initial call with Foreman, the producer she spoke with let her know that he would need to pitch the story internally and get back to her. When he followed up, the timing was not convenient: Foreman and her husband had just taken their son to see a surgeon for a broken collar bone, and they needed to run an errand on their way home. 

“I looked at [my husband] and I said, New York City — it’s New York City’s calling,” Foreman recalled. “And he goes, hun, call him back. I’m like, no, I’m not doing that. I’ve got to take this call.” So she talked with the producer while pacing around the family’s truck in the parking lot. In some ways, it was a comedy of errors, with the audio switching back and forth between her phone and the truck, but Foreman knew she had to seize the moment. She was right to act quickly: 60 Minutes committed to the story, and just one week later, their crew was filming in Missouri.  

Plan ahead but avoid overpreparing.  

Staying on message is important, but it doesn’t mean memorizing a script. Being authentic often resonates with audiences more than polish. “A really good friend said, ‘You do your best when you just speak from the heart’,” Foreman recalled. And that’s exactly what she and her family did. To her surprise, the anticipation of the interview was more nerve-wracking than the interview itself. “The camera somehow removed [my nerves],” she said. Foreman also noted that good preparation goes beyond talking points. It’s about confidence and self-belief: “Don’t ever tell yourself that your mission is too small,” she said. “You have knowledge and lived experience that someone needs to hear.” 

Expect curveballs and embrace the pivot. 

Working with journalists often requires relinquishing some control. You may not see questions in advance, important moments may be cut, and edits may surprise you. Expecting those things and focusing on what you can control — tone and pacing — can help you avoid getting flustered. If Foreman could do it over again, she said she would use her voice more, “not just to answer questions, but to help shape the conversation. In the moment, especially in a high-pressure interview setting, it’s easy to stay in response mode,” she explained. “Next time, I’d be more intentional about turning questions around, asking clarifying questions, and slowing the pace when needed. Those interviews can feel like a bit of a hot box, and I’ve learned that it’s okay to pause, redirect, or take ownership of the narrative.”

Meet people where they are.

Opening hearts and minds to new information requires knowing your audience. To ease fears and minimize defensiveness, it helps to connect journalists with trusted messengers who the audience will be able to relate to, which is exactly what Foreman did. “I wanted them to see true rural America,” Foreman. “I wanted them to see how much we loved our land and the farm and what we do, but also the reality that we are losing farmers.”

Foreman kept that goal in front of her throughout the conversation. Doing so helped her handle a series of curveball questions about how tariffs might be affecting farmers’ finances and their mental health. She wanted to prevent the conversation from becoming too political because, if it did, she knew she risked losing a sizable portion of her audience. Despite being asked the same question about tariffs multiple times, she stayed true to her overarching goal of spotlighting the protective factors that farmers need for when times do get harder.

Don’t forget the power of visuals. 

Whether for print, online, or broadcast, visuals help engage readers and viewers. The right selections can make the piece feel more authentic. In Foreman’s case, she helped producers enhance their storytelling by inviting them to film during a small gathering of farmers’ wives, who Foreman described as “gatekeeper[s] into their own homes,” In other words, she explained, if you can connect with spouses, you can make inroads with the farmers. During filming, the wives talked about rural life while meal prepping — a tradition that keeps a key line of communication open in the community. After the segment aired, it was clear it had resonated widely: Foreman said she has received many calls since then, including from a woman in South Dakota who plans to begin the meal-prepping tradition in her own community.   

Prepare for what comes afterward. 

Vulnerability makes for a powerful story, but as Foreman noted, emotions don’t stop when the cameras do. Also, journalists have varying degrees of training in using trauma-informed interviewing techniques, and sources — especially non–media-trained family or community members — may need space or structured check-ins afterward to process the conversations with reporters. 

“Some of the questions were understandably hard, and at times the conversation moved quickly from emotionally charged moments into a different line of questioning,” Foreman said about the interviews 60 Minutes conducted with her husband and father-in-law, who are both farmers, not advocates or media professionals. “I don’t think anyone did anything wrong; I think it was simply a difficult space to navigate. … “That said, I think there’s room, industry-wide, for more intentional aftercare.” 

The time between when the crew left and when the story finally aired — 26 days — was also a stressful period for Foreman. “Not knowing the final outcome and ultimately watching it for the first time along with the rest of the world was a unique and difficult experience for our family and community,” she said. “At the end of the day, you are trusting the process and the journalists telling the story, and that means handing over a significant amount of control, which can be both humbling and nerve-racking.”

Looking ahead

Going forward, Foreman said she hopes to see more media coverage and proactive conversations happening around firearms and self-harm so that fewer families “learn about suicide through loss.” To her, meaningful progress means building trust “slowly, respectfully, and consistently,” normalizing discussions about safer storage, and having more robust locally embedded mental health support. 

“What gives me hope is seeing people who were once silent start to speak, especially farmers, spouses, and young people,” she said. “I’m encouraged by partnerships forming across agriculture, health care, and community groups, and by the growing recognition that rural solutions don’t have to look like urban ones to be effective.”

While the 60 Minutes segment furthered the momentum that Foreman and her nonprofit, Shelby County Cares, are seeing, she emphasized that there are other ways to shift narratives that don’t require camera crews or resource-intensive productions.

“You don’t need a massive platform to make an impact,” Foreman said. “What you need is credibility, consistency, and care. Change doesn’t always come loudly. Sometimes it grows quietly, one conversation at a time.” 

The post Behind the scenes of a 60 Minutes interview: What public health advocates can learn appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

It’s not surprising, then, that many organizers and advocates are devastated following a New York Times investigation revealing that Cesar Chavez, a United Farm Workers co-founder and one of the most renowned figures in the Latino civil rights movement, had sexually abused girls for many years, including UFW co-founder Dolores Huerta, an icon in her own right. In addition to expressing sadness and outrage, people are grappling with how to respond and raising important questions that will no doubt shape how we talk about farmworker organizing for years to come. Many have asked: Do we speak out and, if so, how? When such a central figure is accused of causing harm, how do we condemn their behavior without erasing broader historic contributions and positive social change? And, going forward, how do we create narratives that are more inclusive and enduring? 

As our staff began grappling with these questions to equip advocates with guidance, we were heartened to see early examples of powerful messages being shared online. Some common threads emerged, with important implications and lessons for communicators, and we’ve distilled them below. 

In situations like this, effective messages, whether from nonprofits, news outlets, or individual advocates, often do several key things:

Acknowledge complexity.

It’s OK to pause before communicating in the immediate aftermath of tragic news. Threading the messaging needle is tricky, and pivoting too soon or trying to sanitize a complex narrative can feel inauthentic and backfire. Instead, it can be helpful — and validating to your audience — to acknowledge discomfort and complexity while naming harm. After all, accountability strengthens movements rather than destroys them. That’s why we liked this message from Colsaria Henderson, the executive director of Next Door Solutions to Domestic Violence, one of many organizations that weighed in after the news broke. Her writing, excerpted below, shows that hope and heartache can coexist: 

“Cesar Chavez was one of many that led and became the face of the United Farm Workers movement,” she wrote on LinkedIn. “He is known, loved, and revered as a former community member and leader in Eastside San Jose. The UFW movement has led to countless positive changes in families, systems, and in how the world understands humanity, modalities for social change, and People Power. The movement though did not stop or end with him. While he is often said to be the face of the movement, countless women, people, and families made undeniable contributions. Dolores [Huerta]’s account of abuse, released today, has broken our hearts and has us trying to hold and balance the public leadership and success needed for communities, with the horrific and irreparable harm an individual with power and privilege can cause.”

Center survivor voices.

It’s common and understandable for initial conversations following serious allegations to focus primarily on the perpetrator of harm. We see this in reporting on many types of violence, from mass shootings to sexual abuse. People want to know what happened to help them make sense of it. Those details matter, but they are only part of the story. It takes tremendous courage to come forward publicly as Debra Rojas, Ana Marguía, and other survivors did. We need to hear from those directly affected, if they feel safe enough to share. 

The Associated Press brought a key survivor voice to its coverage, running an article by Susan Montoya Bryan headlined “Dolores Huerta Ends Her Silence, Champions Decades of Advocacy for Marginalized Groups.” Critically, the story doesn’t focus solely on her victimization at the hands of Chavez; it presents Huerta, a revered labor leader and feminist activist, as a whole person, highlighting her upbringing, accomplishments within the movement, and impressive accolades including the Presidential Medal of Freedom. “Members of Congress and state officials commend [Huerta] and the other women for coming forward,” Montoya Bryan wrote. “They say no one should have to suffer in silence to protect a man or a movement.”

Express shared values.

Several years ago, BMSG had the honor of leading a media advocacy training for the Dolores Huerta Foundation, a force in grassroots organizing. Participants brainstormed shared values to elevate in their communication and came up with words like “solidarity,” “community,” and “safety.” These same values are showing up in organizational messages, like one from Californians for Pesticide Reform. Under the heading “Solidarity with Survivors,” they called the allegations against Chavez “both crushing and inexcusable”: “We categorically condemn any actions of abuse and express our unwavering support to all those affected. We are heartbroken by the pain endured and stand firmly with the victims, survivors, and their families who have bravely come forward after years of silence and fear.” They also offered a link to valuable resources for anyone who has experienced sexual violence. 

Additionally, a joint statement from Sí Se Puede Collective, YWCA Golden Gate Silicon Valley, and Next Door Solutions to Domestic Violence appealed to values such as honesty and responsibility: “Abuse transcends race, ethnicity, class, religion, and sector. It exists in every community, including those fighting for justice. … Let this be a turning point,” they wrote. “Let it be a reminder that no one should be placed beyond accountability. Leadership must never be conflated with infallibility. Movements must be strong enough to tell the truth about themselves.”

Expand the frame beyond the individual. 

Many people have been quick to point out that we must elevate collective struggles and wins over singular icons. A statement from U.S. House of Representatives Speaker Emerita Nancy Pelosi does so powerfully and succinctly: “​​A movement is about the people — not any one person — and its strength lies in the values it upholds. We can honor the farmworker movement — and the generations who sacrificed to build it — while also confronting painful truths.” News coverage from The 19th echoes this sentiment with an article titled “The Women Leading the Farmworker Movement Won’t Let It Be Defined by Cesar Chavez.”

California, where Cesar Chavez day has long been celebrated as a state holiday, is already taking actions to rename it “Farmworkers Day.” Meanwhile, cities from Milwaukee to Dallas to Los Angeles are covering or removing public statues and murals in Chavez’s image and considering renaming parks, streets, and schools — actions that are bringing public attention to the role of women organizers, rank-and-file leadership, and farmworkers themselves in the movement for farmerworkers’ rights. Each of these actions will give advocates more opportunities to broaden the conversation in the weeks and months ahead. 

Demand accountability and systemic change. 

We know from history that when a powerful person abuses others, their behavior was possible in part because of the silence of others. While much attention is being paid to Chavez and the consequences of his crimes, we must also zoom out and look at how he was able to continue his abuse, unchallenged, for years. That includes examining the role of bystanders, — especially cis men — who, as veteran civil rights advocate Belma Gonzalez notes, must be willing to speak out, rather than stand by, “knowing & not saying anything.” 

But individual action alone is not enough. Meaningful progress also requires broader culture change, as Sí Se Puede Collective, YWCA Golden Gate Silicon Valley, and Next Door Solutions to Domestic Violence, explain: “Survivors are too often not believed, not protected, and asked to carry the burden of silence. That silence is not accidental. It is shaped by power, by fear, and by systems rooted in white supremacy culture that prioritize reputation over truth, hierarchy over accountability, and the protection of institutions over the safety of women and girls.” 

Moments like this can shake our understanding of history and the people we’ve looked to for inspiration. But they also offer an opportunity to tell fuller, more honest stories, to center those who have too often been overlooked, and to build movements that are stronger because they hold the people involved, including leaders, more accountable. 

Even in the absence of harm, we must ensure our stories emphasize that social change requires sustained collective action. For example, Rosa Parks was not the first to challenge segregation in public transportation; she was part of a continuum of resistance that included Claudette Colvin and Mary Louise Smith-Ware. And although Parks’ defiance marked a pivotal moment, the Montgomery bus boycott lasted 381 days and involved thousands of nonviolent protesters. Ida B. Wells did not act in isolation either; she could not have debunked white myths about Black crimes without support from allies who funded, published, and publicized her research.

Similarly, the farmworker movement has always belonged to more than just one person. Countless workers, families, and organizers have labored in the fields, marched in the streets, and fought for dignity and justice, often without recognition. As advocates and communicators, we must carry the full story forward and make sure it’s the one that gets celebrated, repeated, and remembered. 

The post Rethinking heroes: How to tell fuller stories of movements and advocacy appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

Most journalists want to report on domestic violence in ways that inform the public without causing further harm to survivors and their loved ones. But doing that well isn’t always straightforward — especially when it comes to centering survivor experiences.

This tension may underlie a key gap in coverage: A news analysis from Berkeley Media Studies Group found that between 2023 and 2025, just one in five California news stories about domestic violence included a quote or anecdote from a survivor. 

“This missing perspective is critical,” said Rachael Kagan, director of communications and public affairs at Blue Shield of California Foundation, which supported the research as part of a larger effort to improve reporting on domestic violence. “We can’t expect the public to fully understand the scope of the problem, let alone what solutions are possible, if we aren’t hearing from the people who are most directly affected. Now that we know just how underrepresented survivor voices are, we can work with journalists to make coverage more inclusive.” 

To learn more about the new research findings, their implications for domestic violence news narratives, and how reporters can include survivor voices safely and responsibly, I spoke with Pamela Mejia, lead author of the analysis. Responses have been lightly edited for length and clarity.

Q&A

BMSG’s analysis found that only about one in five news stories included a quote or anecdote from a survivor. What’s your reaction to that finding? Did it surprise you? 

Advocates and people in the field have known for a long time that domestic violence tends to be under-reported, certainly compared to its actual prevalence. And when it is reported, some real opportunities are lost to bring the full picture forward of what domestic violence is, how it affects families, how it affects communities, and what needs to happen to prevent it — and support people who’ve experienced it. So I knew that there was going to be an absence of some kind, but I was taken aback by how stark it was. 

My immediate reaction was to wonder what stories aren’t being told if domestic violence survivors are really absent from the coverage. What do we not learn about the full truth of domestic violence and its impact on families and communities if the people who are most directly impacted — the people who are closest to not only the experience of domestic violence, but also the services and systems that can help address and prevent domestic violence — if they’re not part of the story?

How does a lack of survivor-centered reporting affect how audiences understand domestic violence?

Important nuances get lost when survivors are not part of the story. For one thing, statistics can paint a picture of domestic violence, but people’s understanding of the issue is limited when we don’t hear more about the range of experiences that comprise domestic violence, from coercion and emotional and verbal abuse all the way up to more explicit and extreme acts of physical abuse or even death. 

Stigma is also an issue. If survivors aren’t allowed to tell their own stories, some of the well-documented patterns of stigmatizing language and framing that we know tend to be part of news coverage of domestic violence, those aren’t challenged. We know from decades of research that domestic violence reporting historically tends to minimize harm by characterizing incidents as, for example, a fight that got out of hand, or suggesting that there was blame on both sides of an incident. And when survivors don’t get a chance to share their experiences, that kind of implicitly stigmatizing language goes unchecked and uncorrected. 

The other thing I would say is that survivors are not only experts in the trauma of what happened to them; survivors also know best what can help prevent domestic violence from happening. They know best what their families need to heal, and they know best how the services and supports in our state succeed or fail the survivors and the families who need them the most. Including survivors gives us a deeper understanding of what we need to do as families, as communities, and as a state to treat and prevent domestic violence. 

Did your analysis uncover examples where survivor voices were included particularly well? If so, what made those stories feel different or more complete?

We did find a few examples, which are highlighted in the report, where survivor’s voices were included. And I think the strongest examples were the ones that touched on the duality that I named, not only painting a fuller picture of the problem but also highlighting the lived wisdom of people advocating for solutions. These stories brought some texture and lived experience to the realities of what domestic violence means, how it impacts families — that it’s not just a private family issue that we can turn away from, but actually something that affects whole communities and has far reaching and long-ranging impacts. The strongest examples of survivor voices were also ones where people were able to talk about what they had needed or what worked or didn’t work for them in seeking support, in getting out of a bad situation, in taking care of their children and themselves.

Many journalists worry about retraumatizing survivors. How can reporters include survivor perspectives ethically?

I really love this question because domestic violence is an area where a lot of folks are already thinking about and working on how to tell more complete stories that center survivor voices in ways that are trauma-informed, that are focused on the needs of survivors and ensuring that they have a platform without experiencing additional harm as a result of using that platform.

One of the things that really drew me to this project and made me so excited to be able to say, “yes, let’s partner on this with the Blue Shield of California Foundation,” is that they are creating practical resources. Their Journalist Playbook for reporting on domestic violence includes trauma-informed interviewing practices and a lot of really great insights from journalists in the field about how to support survivors, going from the big-picture to the very nitty-gritty, right? It addresses challenges like how do you show up in a room with survivors? How do you ask questions ahead of time that can give folks a sense of control and make sure that there’s no surprises for them in the course of an interview? I think that kind of guidance is really key. 

I also want to lift up resources from our partners at the California Partnership to End Domestic Violence. They’ve really been doing incredible work to support California-based survivors in building their skills and talking to the media, and also in working with journalists to ensure that reporters are being thought partners in making sure that survivors are safe and cared for as they’re interviewed. 

What role can domestic violence organizations play in helping reporters navigate this responsibly?

I want to name, first of all, an interesting finding from the analysis that gives some important context, which is that domestic violence service provision organizations were pretty regularly quoted in the coverage. That includes folks who are representing organizations that support survivors either in prevention or intervention. So, that definitely suggests that journalists are doing their best and trying to tell complete stories. That’s a great strength. 

To build on that strength, some of the things that organizations can do when they’re working with journalists include, first of all, making sure that they know and are cognizant of who’s writing about domestic violence in their communities so that they can continue to foster relationships. They can also give constructive feedback, including praise, and pitch stories to help ensure that journalists have the capacity to tell stories that go beyond the isolated details of a particular incident and focus on the systems and structures that need to change to make California safer for all communities. 

Service provision organizations also have such a unique opportunity to bring forward perspectives that may not currently be part of the conversation about domestic violence, its disparate impact on certain communities, and what we have to do to address those inequities. There was not a lot of coverage, for example, of the fears that many Black and Brown communities may have about reporting domestic violence due to well-documented patterns in inequitable treatment by the child welfare system. And there’s very little coverage on why disparities like that may exist. But organizations that serve those communities could help connect journalists to people who can talk about inequities — and how to address them — in  ways that are respectful, accurate, and trauma-informed. 

Conclusion

When it comes to domestic violence, the better we understand the scope and nature of the problem, the better chance we have of solving it. Including more survivor voices — not just talking about the harm that they’ve experienced but also about their proposed solutions — can build on the important work journalists are already doing and help ensure that the public conversation that shapes how we understand domestic violence is accurate and complete.

For additional insights to help strengthen reporting on domestic violence, read the full report: “The News About Domestic Violence: Findings from an Analysis of California News, 2023-2025.”

The post One statistic that should change how journalists cover domestic violence appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

That’s why narrative work is foundational to movements for justice. But if you’ve had trouble finding your footing, or your voice, in recent months, you’re not alone.

Millions of people are experiencing a destabilizing mix of grief and uncertainty about the country’s future amid attacks on diversity, equity, and inclusion; deep cuts to programs that keep communities healthy; and ongoing violence at the hands of the state. The harms from these threats do not stop with violations to our rights or physical safety. Fear spreads like a contagion, shaping what we say, whether we speak up at all, and whether we feel safe standing up for our neighbors, or even ourselves.  

In times like these, many communicators feel a familiar tension between the urge to say something and the fear of getting it wrong. And questions about how to address critical nuances — like the fact that not all communities experience the same level of risks, and media coverage does not treat all victims the same — can fuel important but lengthy internal debates over the best way forward. 

We get it. It’s hard to know what to say today when narrating racial justice. We’re all struggling to communicate effectively in a rapidly shifting narrative landscape, and that struggle isn’t a coincidence: One of the core strategies of authoritarian fascism (strongman leadership backed up by violence) is to overwhelm, and the rise in disinformation and authoritarian rhetoric we are seeing in mainstream spaces only intensifies those feelings. 

Still, to protect our democracy and defend core values like racial equity and inclusion, we must raise our voices, even when we feel hesitant. 

The tool

A new decision-making tool from Berkeley Media Studies Group and Narrative Initiative can help you and your partners navigate that uncertainty and overcome decision paralysis. The tool helps guide you through strategic decisions unique to your situation and audiences, so that you can more confidently create messages that center the needs of those most harmed by the current regime, inspire action, and move us toward the future we want to live in. We first launched it for testing at the Just Narratives convening in November 2025, and we’re grateful to the participants in that workshop for helping us revise and improve it.

The tool draws on BMSG and Narrative Initiative’s collective decades of research and practical experience to support your organization’s vital work of narrating racial justice in challenging times. It’s hard, but we can support each other in the work: The tool offers a structured way to think through the tough decisions or challenging questions you may encounter as you write a narrative statement about racial justice. Where possible, we also offer some resources that can help you as you’re considering what to say or how to move forward. 

The categories covered in the tool include prompts to help you think through:

• developing your communication strategy (including questions about overall goals, audience, voice and values, etc.); 
• navigating internal decision-making, including safety and legal concerns;
• ensuring narrative alignment and mapping power dynamics; and
• identifying and exploring relevant research that can support your work.

Narrating racial justice is very nuanced, especially right now. You may complete the questions and find that you still need to talk with partners, coalition members, etc. about a final decision —- that’s okay! Think of this as a tool to help you consider what still needs to be discussed and what questions remain. 

In the face of rising authoritarian fascism, building narrative power matters more than ever. We hope this resource helps you raise your voice — not only to resist, but to continue the fight to build the just future we know is possible. 

The post Narrative work feels hard right now. This new tool on narrating racial justice can help appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

“Empire doesn’t attack what isn’t working,” said Shanelle Matthews, former communications director for the national Movement for Black Lives and founder of the Radical Communicators Network, known as RadComms. Equity-focused organizations and individuals have used this momentum to strengthen their demands and remain determined in the face of opposition. 

These voices and actions are often echoed and amplified in news coverage. In keeping with our annual tradition, BMSG staff compiled a list of media bites — quotes from news articles, interviews, and social media that stick with us long after we first hear or read them. Here are this year’s top 10 media bites, which embody the spirit of resistance and resilience. We hope our selections inspire you and invite you to share your own favorite quotes with us on social media.

Top 10 media bites

“I shouldn’t have to be worried, while doing my applications in a study room, about a kid who got shot in the bathroom. That’s not a concern a 17-year-old, a 14-year-old, or anyone should have.”

– AJ Baldridge, a senior at Skyline High in Oakland

Appeared Nov. 18, 2025 in The Oaklandside 

Why we like it: Far too few news articles quote youth, even when the issue being discussed directly affects them. In this media bite, Baldridge puts the reader in her shoes, showing us the school environment she occupies —  an often overlooked perspective in media coverage of school shootings.

“SNAP is a tool for maintaining stability, dignity, and self-determination. SNAP is about not having to choose between darkness and dinner.”

– Alexina Cather MPH, Director of Policy and Special Projects at Wellness in the Schools 

Appeared Nov. 11, 2025 in Civil Eats 

Why we like it: Cather uses her authentic voice, highlighting her own lived experiences to illustrate why SNAP is vital to public wellbeing. While Cather doesn’t explicitly use the word “government,” she shows that government is how we bring solutions to scale.

“Every affordable unit represents a story of stability: a child who can stay in their same school, a nurse who can live near the hospital, a barista who can walk to work, a retiree who can remain in the community they helped build. … Housing is not just a policy issue, it’s a foundation for community well-being.”

– Santa Cruz Mayor Fred Keeley

Appeared Oct. 18, 2025 in the Santa Cruz Sentinel 

Why we like it: At BMSG, we often advise advocates to bring context into their storytelling and make the landscape as vivid as the portrait. This media bite shows what that looks like in practice. In it, Mayor Keeley brings policy to life by showing how affordable housing improves the lives of individuals and families — and has positive ripple effects on the community as a whole.

“If large swaths of the population were being sickened by a poison released from an industrial plant, no one would suggest that the solution is to just offer home filters, wearables and supplements. The only real path to restoring health would have to include mandating the removal of the poison from the environment.”

-Julia Belluz and Kevin Hall, co-authors of the book Food Intelligence 

Appeared Sept. 10, 2025 in The New York Times 

Why we like it: Metaphors are an effective way to help people understand complex or abstract issues. Here, Belluz and Hall use an excellent analogy to show the role of environments in shaping health and make the case for systemic solutions to the environment created by food companies.

“We are not the footnotes in some infamous predator’s tabloid article. We are the experts and the subjects of this story. … We are one powerful voice, too loud to ignore, and we will never be silenced again.” 

– Jess Michaels, survivor of abuse by Jeffrey Epstein

Appeared September 3, 2025, in Heather Cox Richardson’s Letters from an American 

Why we like it: Michaels makes a powerful call for justice and accountability, noting that “they are not favors from the powerful. They are obligations decades overdue.” She highlights the strength of the survivors of sexual abuse and trafficking who keep raising their voices despite how difficult that is. In a case that has often been relegated to a political circus, Michaels reminds us that real human lives were impacted — and survivors refuse to be silenced. 

“The vaccine isn’t running for public office. We don’t need to vote to determine whether to use it. We need to do a better job explaining the science that supports the use of the vaccine.” 

– Paul Offit, director of the Vaccine Education Center and an attending physician in the division of infectious diseases at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia

Appeared Aug. 15, 2025 in The Guardian 

Why we like it: Information environments are increasingly recognized as social determinants of health. Using plain language, this quote demonstrates why.

“If we care about climate, we’re going to have to care about trans rights. And if we care about climate, we’re going to have to find ways of getting America and the whole world past all forms of bigotry so that we can work together to face an existential threat to all of humanity and the natural world.”

– Vivian Taylor, climate policy expert

Appeared June 10, 2025 in Atmos 

Why we like it: What’s good for people is also good for the planet. In this silo-busting media bite, Taylor shows that systemic inequities hinder our ability to respond and adapt to global crises, and inclusive climate solutions benefit us all. Her can-do spirit inspires hope. 

“While some may believe that abstaining from vaccination keeps them healthier or more resistant to diseases, the reality is that their “immunity” has, until now, been borrowed from their vaccinated neighbors. This collective shield, known as herd immunity, is not automatic or enduring; it has been built over decades through high vaccination rates.” 

– Dr. Jerome Adams, former United States Surgeon General

Appeared March 20, 2025 in CNN

Why we like it: In this quote, Dr. Jerome Adams reframes vaccination, showing how it is a community-wide obligation and not just an individual choice. By moving away from portrait framing toward landscape framing, Dr. Adams shows how we benefit from the immunization of generations before us, and people around us.

“I wholeheartedly believe in the right to own a gun. I just happen to believe in the freedom from gun violence a bit more.” 

– Nathan Thompson, a school shooting survivor who works with Moms Demand Action

Appeared February 12, 2025 in the Kentucky Lantern

Why we like it: Thompson uses firsthand experience to reframe a shared value — freedom — from a progressive lens. In doing so, he helps to bridge the political gap on a highly fraught issue. After all, research shows that people are not as divided on gun reform as media coverage often suggests.   

“Killing people with paperwork instead of a gun doesn’t make you any less of a murderer.” 

– Arwa Mahdawi, Guardian columnist and the author of Strong Female Lead

Appeared January 14, 2025 in The Guardian

Why we like it: After the shooting of the UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson, conversations arose about how health insurance companies often make life-or-death calls for patients on the basis of cost. Mahdawi succinctly describes such policy violence in plain language.

Feeling nostalgic? Take a look at previous years’ media bites for a trip down memory lane:

• Top 10 public health and social justice media bites of 2024
• Top 10 public health and social justice media bites of 2023
• Top 10 public health and social justice media bites of 2022
• Top pandemic-themed public health media bites of 2021, metaphor edition
• Top 10 public health and social justice media bites of 2020 

Did you find a great media bite this year that we haven’t included? We’d love to hear from you! Send your favorite media bites to us on Bluesky, Facebook, or LinkedIn. 

The post Top 10 public health and social justice media bites of 2025 appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

Across the country, news about transgender people is shaping how audiences understand gender, rights, and community life. With so much at stake — and with misinformation spreading fast — BMSG recently conducted a media analysis in collaboration with the Trans Journalists Association to learn more about coverage. The analysis explored how journalists reported executive orders impacting trans people signed by President Donald Trump in his first 100 days in office. These executive orders threaten the way trans people navigate daily life by creating limits and obstacles to accessing legal documents, health care, and education. 

The analysis highlighted a dearth of trans voices in related media coverage and put forward recommendations on how journalists can improve their reporting when it comes to policies impacting trans communities. As a follow up, we talked with TJA co-founder and board president Kae Petrin, one of the leading voices guiding newsrooms on this coverage, to hear their thoughts on the analysis, the present media landscape, and how we can move forward. 

Q&A:

Responses have been edited for length and clarity.

Tell me a bit about your background. What brought you into this line of work? 

I’m a data journalist, and I’ve spent my entire career in local news in one form or another. I’m also one of the co-founders of the Trans Journalists Association, which launched in 2020. My work with BMSG brings together the data and accountability reporting I’ve always done, and my commitment to improving media coverage of trans communities.

Traditionally, I’m the person who takes a spreadsheet from a government agency, analyzes it, and translates it into something meaningful for the public. With this project, we’re generating the dataset ourselves, analyzing it, and then applying a broader lens to journalism as a field. It’s still the kind of accountability work I’ve done my whole career, just focused on a different part of the ecosystem.

What inspired this particular research project? Was there a moment, headline, or story that made you think, “We need to study this”?

In January, as Trump’s second term began, the administration issued executive orders at a rapid pace. Journalists were scrambling to contextualize them because executive orders aren’t laws, but they can still shape policy and administrative behavior — and many were already getting challenged, changed, or blocked in real time. Some of the earliest orders are still tied up in the courts. They impacted so many different areas of civic life that newsrooms were under pressure to decide what to cover and how.

At the Trans Journalists Association, we were especially concerned with the orders redefining sex and gender across federal agencies. Those definitions have enormous implications not only for trans people but for anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into the gender binary. Sometimes the gender-related language was buried in orders that weren’t about gender on their face — like an order on birthright citizenship that casually defines a mother as a “female biological progenitor” and a father as a “male biological progenitor.”

With more than 140 orders released in such a short window, we wondered: How are journalists going to cover this? What’s getting attention, and what’s slipping through the cracks? Since we already had a partnership with BMSG, we realized we were in a position to ask some of those questions and generate useful data.

Did anything about the findings surprise you — or confirm what you already suspected?

The headline finding that very few stories quoted trans people, even when the policy directly affected us, did not surprise me. I was surprised that the number wasn’t even lower. I expected even more stories with zero trans sources.

We were also curious about how stories used data. Misuse of data is a recurring problem in trans coverage, and we expected to see a lot of that. Instead, most mainstream outlets were using very basic data, and the explicit misuse we saw was mostly concentrated in one right-leaning publication. In hindsight, that makes sense: This was largely breaking news coverage, not longer-form work where data gets interpreted more heavily.

Some of the more interesting patterns,  like how consequences were described or whether stories contextualized uncertainty, would’ve required deeper qualitative analysis to unpack fully.

Why do you think journalists so often relied on government officials without including trans people themselves?

Time pressure is a big part of it. Many journalists don’t have deep source networks in trans communities, and trans people understandably don’t always trust reporters. Building relationships takes time — time that reporters on tight deadlines often don’t have. So, they default to the people who pick up the phone quickly: government officials.

There’s also a structural issue in political journalism. Many newsrooms treat policy stories as political stories, so the reflex is to call a Republican and a Democrat. That framing sidelines the people actually affected by the policy. Our study shows how that approach fails trans communities, and it’s a broader problem across many coverage areas.

Compounding all of this is the fact that many politicians themselves didn’t understand the executive orders they were commenting on. Journalists were often relying on sources who couldn’t reliably explain the policy either. The tension between speed and depth shapes a lot of the gaps we saw. Even with those constraints, though, the lack of trans voices remains striking.

What are the consequences of that kind of sourcing for public understanding — and for trans communities?

It leaves everyone, including journalists, with an incomplete understanding of what’s actually happening. The legal landscape was chaotic. Different states were reporting very different experiences. Sometimes no one knew what an agency planned to do until it happened. That level of ambiguity requires context, and without it, coverage can be unintentionally misleading. 

Being transparent about what journalists don’t know is essential for public trust. It also helps counter misinformation. When government documents themselves suggest that a group “doesn’t exist” or shouldn’t be recognized, which is the subtext of many of these orders, journalists have a responsibility to demonstrate concretely that trans people do exist and are affected.

This isn’t about performing a simple fact check. It’s about grounding reporting in reality: showing real people, real impacts, and real stakes. When coverage focuses only on political theater, it ignores the people living with the consequences right now.

What are some first steps cisgender journalists can take to build trust with trans sources — and avoid extractive or tokenizing practices?

A great starting point is a report called Why Should I Tell You? from the Center for Journalism Ethics at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. It helps reporters explain their process to sources who may not understand how journalism works so they can make informed decisions about participating. That alone can prevent a lot of extractive interactions.

Beyond that, trust comes from showing up consistently — not just when there’s a crisis or a big political story. Cover smaller community events. Ask people what they feel journalists are missing. Build relationships before you need them.

For example, one great reporter on trans communities in San Francisco is a cis reporter who spent years covering small but meaningful stories, like the opening of a gender care clinic. By being present and reliable, she built trust so that when bigger or more sensitive stories emerged, people felt safe talking to her.

It really comes down to traditional, relational reporting: listening, spending time, and investing in a community even when it doesn’t produce immediate stories.

How do you hope these findings might influence newsroom policies? Are there practices that editors can operationalize in their daily routines so that responsibility is shared, rather than resting solely with individual reporters?

When reporters struggle to source a story, there’s almost always a deeper issue — something about the framing or the premise that’s off. My first question is always, “Have you asked people why they don’t want to talk to you, or what they would want to talk to you about?” Many haven’t.

Newsrooms can help by creating time and space for genuine reporting rather than keeping reporters on an endless production treadmill. Some outlets have held focus groups with community members to ask directly: What are we doing wrong? What do you want to see? That kind of structured relationship-building requires institutional support.

Editors also play a major role by giving reporters more time. Not every story needs to be published the day an order is announced, especially when no one understands its implications yet. Sometimes, waiting even 48 hours yields much better information. There’s a cultural pressure toward nonstop breaking news, and that pressure often works against depth, context, and accuracy.

The challenge is balancing the expectation of immediacy with the responsibility to inform the public meaningfully. That balance is hard, but it’s essential.

You mentioned in a recent op-ed that effective sourcing is a starting point, not an end point. What does good reporting on trans communities look like — beyond simply including trans voices?

Good reporting doesn’t have one specific look, but most problematic trans coverage shares a common issue: It’s framed entirely through a cis lens. When journalists aren’t familiar with trans communities, they often treat us as unusual or “other,” and that shows up in the framing.

A classic anthropology exercise illustrates this: Students read an analysis of a “strange” culture with sensational hygiene rituals and then discover it’s about Americans, written from an outsider’s point of view. That’s how reporting can look when journalists write about trans people purely as outsiders.

The first step is recognizing your own unfamiliarity and bias. From there, listen to people, ask what you don’t understand, and approach coverage with genuine curiosity rather than assumptions.

Another huge factor is misinformation and disinformation. A lot of political actors are intentionally exploiting the public’s unfamiliarity with trans people. When journalists are also unfamiliar, they can become conduits for that misinformation and disinformation without realizing it. Reporters covering Russia and information operations in Europe, for example, have documented some of these patterns on other topics, like immigration. Those stories ask, who started this misinformation, who is it targeting, and who benefits from it? It’s less common that domestic trans coverage takes a similar approach. Instead, disinformation sometimes gets treated as legitimate scientific debate or breaking news, and some journalists don’t do enough to question that. Good reporting actively counters that by grounding stories in reality, context, and concrete impacts rather than hypothetical or abstract arguments.

Can you share any examples of news outlets or reporters who got it right during this period?

Some of the strongest, most consistent work comes from The 19th’s team. Teen Vogue’s news team, before it was unfortunately disbanded, was also producing excellent coverage. NBC Out, which was also recently dissolved, did strong work as well. Prism does excellent work.

There are also some investigative LGBTQ outlets doing important investigative reporting, including Lookout News and Uncloseted Media. The Washington Post’s gender coverage has been relatively consistent, and ProPublica and KFF Health News have produced solid, deeply contextual stories and helpful resources.

You wrote something in a previous piece that stayed with me: Journalists can use all the right language, show sensitivity to their sources, and still produce misleading coverage. That suggests that something much more fundamental, and perhaps harder to quantify, is missing from coverage. What else should newsrooms be considering to improve their reporting?

Ultimately, journalists need to focus on what’s concretely happening, not just what people say is happening. There’s a lot of rhetoric around trans issues, but reporters often stop at the rhetoric instead of digging into the measurable reality.

Good journalism requires asking: What is actually occurring? What isn’t? What were people told would happen that didn’t? 

Florida is a great example of this: The Associated Press ran a piece about how trans adults in Florida were “blindsided” by restrictions on their care in 2023. That happened in part because some earlier stories from large news organizations didn’t rebut politicians’ factually incorrect statements that new laws would only restrict youth care. Some newsrooms covered the story as a debate over the quality of youth gender care rather than closely evaluating the legal language, as you should in a policy story. Trans reporters at small independent outlets caught this nuance and reported on it, but their audiences are much more limited; larger newsrooms didn’t consistently follow up on this reporting, and the false narrative that these restrictions only affect children was more dominant in the public conversation.

Too much coverage treats trans existence as a theoretical debate, even though we have decades of data about everything from bathrooms to sports to health care. The executive orders and new laws often frame trans people as a new or unprecedented phenomenon, but we’re not. Reporters need to resist getting pulled into abstract arguments and instead document real-world impacts.  

Recommended resources and further reading: 

• Stylebook and Coverage Guide – Trans Journalists Association
• Research: How Journalists Covered the Attack on Trans Rights in Trump’s First 100 Days  
• Why Should I Tell You?: A Guide to Less-Extractive Reporting
  • Spanish-language edition
• Trans News Initiative 
• How Newsrooms Are Capturing the “Trans Debate,” But Not Its Consequences 

The post A better blueprint for trans coverage: Lessons from TJA’s Kae Petrin appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

Despite a high volume of headlines, what’s missing from most coverage of Kneeland is the underreported reality that suicide is the leading cause of gun deaths in the U.S. One way we can honor him is by having difficult but necessary conversations about self-harm and guns — and how we can work together to prevent more tragedies. 

Suicide by any cause remains shrouded in stigma, with obituaries rarely mentioning it, especially when the individual who died is not a celebrity. Add a factor as politically charged as guns, and it becomes even harder for people to discuss, even though open conversations are exactly what we need more of. 

Another reason why silence surrounds guns and suicide is that many people simply do not know how prevalent the link is. BMSG research has found that in California, firearm suicide is dramatically underreported in the news compared to its actual prevalence — a trend that appears to be true nationally as well. We also know that most coverage of guns appears in the aftermath of more extreme but less common events like mass shootings, which make up less than 2% of gun deaths in the U.S. 

When we talk about guns primarily in the aftermath of shootings, or the political debates that ensue, we miss an opportunity to address the quieter, everyday crises happening in homes across the country. This is especially true for communities of color: Data suggest firearm suicide rates are on the rise in the Black community, particularly among Black men, though those data points haven’t gotten much attention.

Advocates and journalists alike can use this moment to create more visibility — and empathy — in media coverage about suicide prevention and firearms. 

One group working to understand firearm-related beliefs, perceptions, and behaviors, with a goal of preventing injuries and deaths, is the Missouri Foundation for Health. A recent report from MFH includes results from a survey of more than 1,800 Missouri adults, which the foundation hopes will inform prevention policies and practices. The report notes that most U.S. youth who die by suicide use a firearm belonging to a family member, underscoring the need for safe storage and other ways of limiting access, especially during mental health crises. Public health practitioners and reporters can use the report’s findings to help expand and shift conversations about suicide prevention and firearms.  

That may seem like a lofty goal in what feels like a deeply divided time, but data from the Pew Research Center has found that everyday Americans share a lot of common ground in their views on guns. Ultimately, people across the political spectrum value safety, but we can’t make progress without having honest conversations and working to remove the taboo from topics like suicide. 

Journalists looking to increase or strengthen their reporting on suicide can find guidance in this resource developed by Poynter, the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, and the Suicide Prevention Resource Center, among other groups. Advocates can find more information, including sample messages, in this messaging guide that BMSG developed with our partners at the Hope and Heal Fund.

The post After the headlines fade: Honoring Marshawn Kneeland by expanding the conversation on suicide and firearms appeared first on Berkeley Media Studies Group.

With an abundance of media attention currently on SNAP, public health advocates have an opportunity — and a responsibility — to reframe these discussions. By centering shared values like health, fairness, and community, we can shift the narrative and remind decision-makers that everyone benefits when people have access to the food they need.

Although the administration has agreed to partially fund SNAP after two federal judges ruled that the Trump administration must keep the food aid program running, many details remain unclear. As many as 42 million people are in limbo, with anxiety and uncertainty looming around when they will be able to buy groceries again.   

The sample messages below can help communicators tell a more complete story about SNAP at any time, not just amid urgent crises. These messages were adapted from “Making the Case for Medicaid: 6 Tips for Speaking Out” (a recent blog from BMSG and The FrameWorks Institute) and can be tailored to any community. 

Each message includes several core elements for developing messages, which can be used when discussing SNAP or any critical health issue. Effective messages should: 

• Name the problem (What’s wrong?);
• Include a values statement (Why does it matter?); 
• Name a solution (What should we do, and who should do it?); and
• Illustrate the broader context beyond individuals.

While you can use these components in any order, stating your values and proposed solution early helps to engage readers and listeners. Once you have answered these questions, you will have the core of your message, which then can be expanded or distilled, depending on the format you plan to use to deliver it.  

Sample message: Ripple effects of SNAP cuts

SNAP is how we collectively ensure that food is available everywhere and for everyone as a way to have a stronger, healthier country. It allows millions of people to put healthy, nutritious meals on the table and is essential for the oldest and youngest among us: 1 in 5 program participants are seniors over 60, while 2 in 5 are children. 

Currently, 42 million U.S. residents are stuck in limbo, as details remain unclear on when the Trump administration’s USDA will release funds so that people can access their food benefits. When people are not able to keep their fridges stocked, children with empty bellies will not be able to concentrate in school, and grandparents will have a harder time staying healthy. And the harms of hunger ripple out far beyond SNAP recipients themselves: When families have less to spend, grocers’ shelves empty, paychecks shrink, farmers suffer, and local stores shutter their doors. Our local elected officials must [insert solutions relevant to your local audience, such as “provide local supplemental funding” or “expand funding for food banks”] and fight for a nation where no one goes hungry.

Sample message: Ripple effects of robust access to SNAP

Our communities thrive when everyone can put healthy food on the table. 42 million people in the U.S, including more than 16 million children, rely on SNAP to stay fed. When families use SNAP, students come to school with full bellies and, in turn, do better in school. The benefits of SNAP don’t stop in childhood: Adults who used SNAP as children have lower risks of heart disease as adults, which means SNAP saves lives. The ripple effects show up everywhere: When families swipe their EBT card at the market, grocers order more produce and keep their cashiers employed, farmers sell more crops, and truck drivers keep the supply chain moving. 

Funding SNAP is a commonsense solution that not only keeps people fed, but fuels the economic well-being of our communities: Every SNAP dollar stretches even further — growing into $1.50-$1.80 of economic activity, like grocery sales, jobs, and community spending, in our neighborhoods. This is especially critical when people are facing growing unemployment and rising food prices. SNAP spending supports food and beverage manufacturers, wholesalers, grocers, transportation companies, and farmers. Our communities are stronger when they don’t have to worry about where their next meal is coming from, so they can look after their health and well-being. Keeping SNAP adequately funded is a crucial part of that. The Trump administration’s USDA must use its authority to keep food aid flowing, just as the agency has done in previous shutdowns.

Sample message: SNAP is the solution to a rigged system

SNAP dollars land right at the local market, keeping shelves stocked and cashiers, clerks, and farmers on the job. SNAP ensures everyone has access to food, and it strengthens local economies in ways that benefit neighbors and the whole community — even those who don’t rely on SNAP themselves. Right now, tens of millions of families are under stress and unsure of when they will regain access to their benefits. We still have work to do to ensure that all communities have enough healthy food to eat and have a full and fair chance to live a healthy life. That’s just common sense.

We can’t let our leaders continue to rig the system in favor of the ultra-wealthy at the expense of ordinary people, like our grandparents, children, and veterans. Together, we can demand leaders protect SNAP and choose policies that put everyday people first. The Trump administration’s USDA must use contingency funds to keep food aid flowing, and when the government reopens, any delayed or missed payments should be issued retroactively.

For more messaging guidance, see “Making the Case for Medicaid: 6 Tips for Speaking Out”; while the resource focuses on Medicaid, it can be adapted to other social and public health issues. The Food Research & Action Center also has helpful SNAP-specific advocacy talking points on its website and sample social media messages to pressure the administration and USDA to act.

Have you seen other messages or guides that work? Let us know. Looking for technical assistance to support your strategic communication efforts? Contact Katherine Schaff, BMSG’s Director of Racial and Health Equity Strategy.

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