A reader once said to me, “Don’t get hit by a bus.” That’s great life advice! But sometimes I think about what it says about the state of representation in the British media. I’ve been full time at The Guardian for over a decade now; working in the industry for fifteen. I’m the first columnist in the country to use a wheelchair. I’m one of the only visibly disabled journalists in the press, not least who’s in a senior or contracted position. That is objectively batshit.

I often say there are not enough disabled people in the media (or from any other marginalised group for that matter). But really, that isn’t the end of the sentence. There are many brilliant disabled people in journalism today - talented, passionate, committed journalists who are doing vital work - and even more who want to break in. And yet very few of these are staff or contracted contributors or in positions of power. In the small pool of working disabled journalists, the majority are freelancers or in relatively junior roles. That might seem like splitting hairs but as someone who has worked as both a freelancer and now as a contracted contributor (at least until A.I replaces me), I’d bet my monthly salary on the fact this distinction is important - both for the jobs available to disabled writers and the kind of media readers get.

That’s partly because we hear a hell of a lot more from traditionally employed journalists; while freelancers tend to get commissioned one pitch at a time, staffers and contracted contributors generally have guaranteed work every week (which means that editors still have to sign off on their ideas but they’re much more likely to get them in the paper). And crucially, when a news story breaks, it is typically staff in the newsrooms or senior contracted journalists who get asked to report and comment on it first - thereby setting the narrative for the public on the big issues of the day. Meanwhile, freelancers are more likely to be asked for first person pieces or to provide trauma for clicks; even more so if you have a disability. It’s all rather…exacerbating.

Let’s call it the real representation problem. It isn’t just the number of disabled or other marginalised journalists in the British media that matters but what they’re being hired to write, how frequently, and by which outlets.

Of course, this is partly a reflection of the wider media landscape, in which collapsing print sales and dwindling ad revenue online has shrunk commissioning budgets and the number of staff jobs. Disabled and other marginalised writers are then further excluded because of structural barriers only we face, from education, transport, the intersection of disability and class, poor flexible working, to good old fashioned prejudice. But I reckon there is another factor: the lack of transparency in what is still largely a closed shop with relatively few clear entry points (at least if your dad didn’t used to edit a desk at The Times). It can feel as if it’s all a big fucking secret, because it often is. How do you form relationships with editors? How do you get to be a columnist? (They don’t advertise!) What counts as a good fee?

So, let me cast some light on it. I plan to use this space in the coming months to help people who want to progress in the media but who don’t see a way in. I’ll write some thoughts on different topics I hope will be of use, from how to pitch to when to say “no” to an editorial request. I’ll answer questions if you write in (E: francesryan.journalism@gmail.com). I’ll disclose what columnists are paid, if I’ve been in the drink’s cabinet that day.

I can’t promise to have all the answers. My fingers hurt as I type this! I’m wearing pyjamas in the middle of the day! But I’ll do my best to be of some help as often as I can. I’m essentially the guy who somehow managed to crawl under the fence to the party and has come back to tell you about the mad shit she saw on the other side. For free, obviously. (My standard rate is 85p per word and a cookie with my face on.)