How Disabled Journalists Work: John Loeppky

In this series, DJA journalists share their experiences and tips for getting their work done, how they find the industry and how to create a more inclusive and accessible media environment. For our inaugural edition, meet John Loeppky.

There are few things about being a disabled journalist that feel constant. For me, perhaps the only ones are making morning coffee for my wife, letting my dogs out into my backyard and taking a body inventory.

Different people have different words for this process. In somatics, it’s often called a body scan. I’ve been doing it for so long that it’s not always a conscious process. Basically, I am taking stock of what is and isn’t hurting on my body and — perhaps most importantly — how, as the wonderful writer Ace Tilton Ratcliff says, the “meat cage” may get in the way of plans. That might sound like a deficit mindset, and, although I may not be the most optimistic person in the universe, I find that I have to start with what I can’t do in order to muddle through what I have to do. 

Afterwards, I turn my attention to daily tasks. Years ago, I instituted an informal system, cobbled together from various productivity YouTubers, that had me note three things I had to do, three things I could do and three things I’d love to be able to do. (My workspace can look like a storm rolled through if I don’t put “clean your office” on one of these lists.) 

It will not surprise you that, after a period in my 20s when my schedule was free-flowing, I am now a person for whom if something isn’t on my Google calendar, it just simply doesn’t exist. Digital tools are invaluable: I use a tool to book meetings, for my calendar, to track hours on hourly billed projects and even one to remind me to revisit certain readings. Hell, I’ve even automated dinner: A local caterer delivers 14 meals at an affordable $125 CAD a week (about $90 USD). 

Weathering the daily grind

It seems well-planned, but this routine only applies during warmer months of late spring through early fall. I live in Saskatchewan, where the temperature can range between -40C and 40C during the year. My body — I have cerebral palsy, as what I jokingly call my main, or central, disability — is like a weathervane. In the morning, without looking out the window, I know if it rained overnight. In cold months, my work processes slow as much as my body does.

During the good months, I aim to wake up at 6 a.m. I have two rules: I don’t track my hours except when required for projects and I don’t work when my wife is home in evenings and on weekends. The days of celebrating 60- and 70-hour work weeks are in the past. 

In the winter, I not only work fewer hours on a more variable schedule (I’ve been known to write and schedule emails at 3 a.m.), but how I write changes. Similarly, fellow Canadian Gabrielle Drolet has written about how her disability changed the way she crafted stories because it meant switching to voice-to-text software. For me, I rely more on email interviews, saving energy for the more vital face-to-face interaction of Zoom interviews. My drafting style changes as well, with me being more likely to start from my quotes rather than a more freewheeling approach. 

I also have to take more notes during the times where pain is the highest, which is often later in the work week. I’ve regretted more than a few Friday meetings with potential editors when what is known in the disability community as brain fog rears its head with a vengeance. Lastly, if a task isn’t noted down somewhere, whether that’s in the productivity tool Notion or on my Google calendar, it will get lost during the cold months.

Between morning coffee and noon, as my body warms up, I answer emails and make phone calls. Later in the morning, around 10:30 a.m., I tackle edits, conduct interviews and check in with colleagues. 

Around 12 p.m., I’ll take a breather and do something around the house like dishes or laundry. This is also where life admin tends to show up, such as managing construction projects like installing a new wheelchair  lift. Yes, it took applying for a grant; no, I’m not over it.

During the second working block of the day, I might write a first draft with lines like “TKTK, put good sentence here.” I’m much more of what George R.R. Martin calls a gardener, an improviser, rather than a voracious planner. From there, more email towards the goal of inbox zero, perhaps more interviews, lunch, submit invoices and play with the dogs. 

If I’m on a roll, pun somewhat intended, this period goes until I find a natural stopping point to log off for the day and decide whether to play video games. 

Tips for working with (not against) yourself

Beneath that schedule is a lot of furious paddling, similar to the ducks with which I share a walking style. But I think it’s valuable to show that a lot of bodily uncertainty can be boiled down to a small set of actionable steps with a lot of work and grace. In that vein, here are three tips for working with, rather than against, your body as a journalist. 

Tip No. 1: The new shiny system will not fix you, so don’t even get your hopes up

I mentioned before that I use a number of tools in my work. However, one failure —which was compounded because of my disability — was pinning my hopes on a perfect set of tools to absolve me of all work-based woes. This just isn’t the case. Find what they call in business circles a minimum viable product. Like your first piece of adapted equipment, the goal is improvement rather than perfection. 

Tip No. 2: Think seasonally

This is a concept popularized by writer, YouTuber, and Georgetown University professor Cal Newport. Essentially, instead of expecting to sustain a year-round schedule, think in segments. For Newport, his university schedule, which is broken into semesters, provides good parameters. For me, the aforementioned bonecrushing cold of winter and otherwise productivity-enhancing warmer months provide a natural segmentation for the year.

But you can also think about seasons in terms of life phases. To borrow from the tech world, perhaps you’re itching for a sprint, a time period where you intensely prioritize work over other aspects of life. On the other hand, perhaps you’re in a season where your health needs more attention than career. Understanding your season can be one way to frame your daily approach in a creative profession like journalism

Tip No. 3: Productivity is fluid

Just because you can do something today doesn’t mean you can tomorrow. And, crucially, it doesn’t mean you should expect yourself to do it over and over. When December hits, and my body adjusts accordingly to the changing climate, the schedule I listed above will feel luxurious and absurd. What’s important is creating a baseline to give yourself room to breathe, to process the shame imposed by ableist workplace expectations and to give yourself something to build or maintain.

The ebbs and flows are inevitable, but I think everyone can create a system to ride the proverbial productivity wave. 

John is a freelance journalist who lives with his wife and three dogs on Treaty 6 territory in Saskatchewan, Canada. His work has appeared on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC), FiveThirtyEight, Healthline and others. His goal in life is to have an entertaining obituary to read. 

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