But I’m mostly glad Dese’Rae is about to walk through the door. As a suicide survivor, she possesses insight I do not. She is a photographer, occasional writer, and suicide awareness activist. Stage’s main project is called Live Through This, a portrait and oral history series on survivors of suicide attempts. The goal of the series is to humanize survivors, to shatter the stereotype about who lives with suicidal thoughts, and to change the conversation around suicide.
This last sentence—changing the conversation—is why I’ve asked Stage to meet me for coffee. We first met on Twitter in an exchange about how the American media—newspapers, magazines, documentaries, movies, even music—talks about suicide. The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention created a set of guidelines for how to write about suicide in a respectful way. And yet these guidelines are often ignored or manipulated, because they often deny our curiosity—that is, answering the who, what, where, why, when of a story.
Instead of This: Big or sensationalistic headlines, or prominent placement (e.g., “Kurt Cobain Used Shotgun to Commit Suicide”).
Do This: Inform the audience without sensationalizing the suicide and minimize prominence (e.g., “Kurt Cobain Dead at 27”).
Instead of This: Including photos/videos of the location or method of death, grieving family, friends, memorials or funerals.
Do This: Use school/work or family photos; include hotline logo or local crisis phone numbers.
Instead of This: Describing recent suicides as an “epidemic,” “skyrocketing,” or other strong terms.
Do This: Carefully investigate the most recent CDC data and use non-sensational words like “rise” or “higher.”
Instead of This: Describing a suicide as inexplicable or without warning.
Do This: Most, but not all, people who die by suicide exhibit warning signs. Include the “Warning Signs” and “What to Do” sidebar in your article if possible.
Instead of This: “John Doe left a suicide note saying…”
Do This: “A note from the deceased was found and is being reviewed by the medical examiner.”
Instead of This: Investigating and reporting on suicide similar to reporting on crimes.
Do This: Report on suicide as a public health issue.
Instead of This: Quoting/interviewing police or first responders about the causes of suicide.
Do This: Seek advice from suicide prevention experts.
Instead of This: Referring to suicide as “successful” or “unsuccessful” or a “failed attempt.”
Do This: Describe as “died by suicide” or “completed” or “killed him/herself.”
Stage walks through the door. I’m right in her line of sight, so she nods and walks over. We hug, even though this is the first time we’ve met. After a few minutes of small talk—she has just come from San Francisco, after an interview for Live Through This—we jump into the complicated topic of writing about, and talking about, suicide. To be clear: She does not speak for the entire community. Her opinions should not be considered chapter and verse, but rather one valuable viewpoint within a world of varying beliefs.
Kate: What kind of job does the U.S. do when it comes to discussing suicide?
Dese’Rae: We’re a country full of rubberneckers, you know? So when suicide comes up, we’re either going to make a joke about it, have it be the punch line, or with writers, it’s often hyperfocused on the precise moment of death: “This is what happened, here is who saw it, here’s how it felt to see it, this is the way in which the blood splattered.” And rarely does this kind of coverage get to the core of the issue: How was this person feeling? How can we change it? Why is this happening?
Kate: Throughout human history, storytelling has provided comfort. How do you balance that fact with the idea that, when it comes to suicide, too much storytelling can be gratuitous and dangerous in perpetuating myths about suicide?
Dese’Rae: They’re not mutually exclusive: good storytelling and humane storytelling. What’s not happening right now, that needs to happen more, is writers asking themselves what insight a certain detail actually offers the reader. For example, publishing a suicide note. What insight is that giving us into that person other than how they felt in, possibly, the toughest moment of their life? Will publishing that note offer us much insight into the total person, or just fulfill a curiosity?
Kate: Okay, so I get your point about rubbernecking, but still I wonder…
Dese’Rae: And, to be clear, that isn’t a judgment. I’m a super rubbernecker, too—we all are…
Kate: So what do you see as the concern around people reading these details and, as you say, rubbernecking?
Dese’Rae: Suicide notes, well—they’re romantic, in a way, and also they’re abnormal. I believe the latest statistic is that 18 percent of people leave suicide notes. So publishing a suicide note perpetuates the myth that everyone leaves one.
Kate: Oh, wow, just 18 percent? That’s lower than I would have thought.
Dese’Rae: Right! Most people don’t leave suicide notes. So there is that. And suicide notes give us this feeling that we’re going into those last moments and really feeling that moment and basking in its sadness and its tragedy. But, also, because of that, a suicide note anchors us in that single moment. It does not focus our attention on the more important areas: the beyond, in both directions, the before and after this single moment. What leads up to it and what comes after—does the suicide note offer us insight into any of that? No, we focus on the suicide. I don’t think enough people realize that suicide is something that is cumulative, and there are certain catalysts. And in our storytelling, we often need to find one specific reason. It’s much, much more complicated and you’re never going to boil it down to a single headline.
Kate: Why are the guidelines the way they are?
Dese’Rae: Truth is, suicide prevention is a young field. I mean, Edwin Shneidman pioneered this field and opened the first suicide prevention center in 1958. That’s not that long ago. So we’re still trying to gather information so that we can make better decisions and recommendations. First, we need to find out exactly how suicide is talked about in popular culture and everyday life. I’ve started logging any reference to suicide I see in pop culture. Not through Google searches, which would require me to seek it out, but just organic references to suicide. I want to understand where we’re coming from as a culture. People often say: “We don’t talk about suicide.” That’s actually not true. We are talking about it. It’s just that we’re talking about it, often, in really unhelpful ways.
Kate: Can I have an example?
Dese’Rae: For example, in our TV shows, there are constant references to suicide, but they’re almost always jokes. And that’s not to say I don’t have a sense of humor about suicide—doing this work you kind of have to—but on TV, the people making these jokes and writing these jokes don’t seem to have thoughtfully considered suicide. They’re just throwing something out there halfheartedly, in the hopes of getting a laugh. My concern is that if this is how we’re thinking about and portraying suicide—as something someone might do just because they got broken up with—then how can we get people to care about it in a meaningful way, one that might change the suicide rate, or change the funding?