Journalism

Áine McKeon

I’m Áine McKeon, a journalist and writer with a passion for reading and telling human stories that often go unheard. My time at TU Dublin has deepened my interest in how media reflects and shapes society. My final-year dissertation explored how violence against women is framed in the Irish media, a topic I felt was both timely and essential. I also got to take part in a group magazine project, where I wrote a feature on the future of nuns in Ireland and the challenges facing women in faith today. Getting to combine academic research with creative storytelling has been one of the most rewarding parts of my degree. I’m excited (and a bit nervous!) to take the next step, but I know I want to keep telling stories that matter.  I’m gratful for the laughs, lessons, and people I’ve met along the way. 

"The desire to reach for the stars is ambitious. The desire to reach hearts is wise." 
Maya Angelou 

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Ireland’s Nuns: The End of an Era?

In Ireland, the number of women entering religious life has declined dramatically over the past two decades. In 2000, there were more than 9,000 nuns across the country. By 2023, that number had fallen to just under 4,500. Today, the average age of a nun in Ireland is around 80. In a culture that celebrates independence, career ambition, and personal freedom, the idea of joining a convent can seem outdated, even radical. For most young Irish women, dedicating a life to religious vows of chastity, and obedience feels far removed from their world. And yet, a small number still choose this path, driven by a sense of spiritual calling that defies modern expectations.

Sister Beatrice Brady, 29, is one of them. She’s originally from Belturbet in Co. Cavan and joined Saint Mary’s Abbey in Glencairn six years ago. Speaking from her monastery in Waterford, she addresses a common assumption people make that entering religious life means giving up everything. “The main misconception is that you’re just giving up your life,” she says. “Actually, you’re giving it up to gain an awful lot.” 

Unlike the stereotypical story of someone raised in a devoutly religious household, Beatrice’s journey to the convent was gradual and deeply personal. She studied Law and German at Trinity College Dublin and discovered her faith independently. A turning point came when she watched an RTÉ documentary about the Medical Missionaries of Mary,four Irish nuns doing missionary work in the remote Turkana desert in Kenya. Their sense of purpose struck a chord. “They were living for something greater than themselves,” she recalls, “a love that transcended everyday life.” 

Sister Laura Cullen, 32, also took an unexpected path to the convent. Originally from the small village of Kildaloon in Co. Meath, she entered religious life three years ago. Before becoming a nun, she worked as a social worker and studied English literature and philosophy at University College Dublin. “I had such a hunger for depth in my life,” she explains. Her transition wasn’t without struggle, leaving behind a career she valued and facing skepticism from family members who didn’t understand her decision. “Can I sacrifice my career and all the potential of the future?” she once asked herself. In time, however, she found peace in what she had chosen instead. 

Both women acknowledge the heavy shadow cast by the Catholic Church’s recent history in Ireland, particularly the abuse scandals and the Magdalene laundries. Laura remembers the heartbreak of reading about it all while discerning her vocation. “It was challenging. But I had to feel that pain and trust God in it,” she said. 

Still, they believe the decline in numbers isn’t entirely negative. For them, fewer vacations mean more thoughtful, sincere choices. “It’s a good thing,” Laura says. “There’s more support, structure, and discernment now.” 
Ireland may be moving away from its religious past, but for women like Sister Beatrice and Sister Laura, faith continues to offer a meaningful and quiet way of life. 

Framing Violence Against Women in Irish Media: Challenging or Reinforcing Gender Narratives

This final-year dissertation explores how violence against women is framed by national newspapers in Ireland, focusing particularly on the high-profile case of Natasha O’Brien. As a Journalism student at TU Dublin, I wanted to understand how the media helps shape public perception of gender-based violence, and whether it reinforces harmful stereotypes or pushes for meaningful change. 

The idea for this project came from frustration. Like many people, I was moved by Natasha O’Brien’s case and the widespread public reaction to it. But what stood out to me most was how the media told her story, what was emphasised, what was downplayed, and how it made us feel as readers. I kept asking myself: Are we doing enough as journalists to represent these stories responsibly? 

My research focused on four major Irish newspapers: The Irish Times, The Irish Examiner, The Irish Independent, and The Irish Mirror. Using framing and comparative analysis. I looked at over 100 articles across these outlets, paying close attention to language, headlines, imagery, and how both victim and perpetrator were portrayed. I wanted to identify whether these stories challenged stereotypes or contributed to a culture where violence is minimised or normalised. 

Alongside the media analysis, I conducted interviews with journalists Aoife Moore and Aoife Barry and academics working in feminist media studies Aoife Quinn Hegarty and Dr Anne O’Brien. Their insights gave the project more depth, especially around the structural and editorial challenges journalists face when reporting on violence against women. They highlighted the ongoing tension between court reporting, editorial expectations, and the ethical duty to centre survivors’ voices. 

The findings showed that while coverage of Natasha O’Brien was broadly sympathetic, there were still moments of perpetrator minimisation and a lack of systemic critique. Too often, the focus remained on individual circumstances, her bravery, his career— 
 without connecting the story to broader patterns of gender inequality. In some cases, the media leaned on familiar tropes: the “ideal victim,” the “troubled but respectable perpetrator,” or the narrative that violence is an unfortunate but isolated event. 

But there were also signs of progress. In many articles, especially in The Irish Times and The Irish Examiner, there was a conscious effort to highlight O’Brien’s activism and the wider public anger. The protests, the campaign for sentencing reform, and the calls for accountability were covered with care and urgency. These moments show that the media can and sometimes does play a powerful role in challenging injustice. 

For me, this project was more than just an academic exercise. It was a topic I could relate to personally and was a way to engage critically with the profession I’m entering and to reflect on the kind of journalist I want to be. I believe we have a responsibility to tell these stories with nuance, care, and courage. Reporting on violence against women isn’t just about covering the facts it’s about understanding the impact of our words and the structures behind the headlines. 

I hope this research contributes, even in a small way, to the ongoing conversation about gender-based violence, and the role of media in Ireland. I hope it reminds future journalists (including myself) that the way we frame a story can change how the world sees it and even how the world responds.