Monday 10 December 2012

No easy answers on nurse's suicide

I was going to write a different blog post today, but this issue has been on my mind a lot in the last few days – so I’m having thinky thoughts instead about suicide, and about our communal failure to talk about the real issues.

Apology ahead of time – this is a complex issue, and my thoughts on it don’t easily fit in a small post, so this post is LONG. Possibly the longest I’ve ever written. You may disagree with some or all of the below. I don't mind and welcome comments.
 But please keep it respectful. :) Any comments that get personal, or focus on attacking people rather than addressing the content of the issue will be deleted.

(Possible trigger WARNING. If you are feeling depressed, please reach out! You are not alone. ♥ Lifeline: 131 114. Also, if you have had experience with a loved one committing suicide – you may want to reconsider reading the post below. Take care of yourself. My thoughts and love are with you.) 


Right now, across Twitter and in the mainstream press in the UK and elsewhere there is a lot of (I’m sure genuinely felt) disgust, vitriol, outrage, anger, and unhappiness being directed at two young disc jockeys employed at 2Day FM.

These two DJs (on instruction) made a prank call to the hospital that Kate Middleton was staying at pretending to be the Queen and Prince Charles wanting to talk to their grand/daughter-in-law. I’ve read the transcript of the prank call and it was pretty stupid and thoughtless.

Okay – right off the cuff, let me be even more specific. I think most prank calls are stupid. They are adolescent and almost never consider the mental state or wellbeing of the people being pranked. They are fun for the people conducting the prank, and perhaps for some listeners, but only in a ‘aren’t I cool’ kind of way. They are insensitive and almost always lack empathy for the people being pranked. They are also wide-spread practice on radio stations around the world and audiences love them.

Having heard the interview with the DJs on ACA last night, I was struck by their naivety and lack of forethought. They were visibly shocked and devastated. But as equally clueless about the possible emotional ramifications for the people they connected with on the other end. They expected to be hung up on. That was it. They thought they were making fools of themselves. They didn’t intend it to be a joke on the nurses. They hadn’t connected the dots on the effect being fooled would have on the nurses.

This lack of empathy and wisdom is in my opinion largely cultural – both for that radio station but also the mainstream media and society as a whole. These DJs are a product of our system.
Does this make it okay – no – but as stupid pranks go this one was as innocuous as they probably get. Put on some silly accents and ring a hospital. Guaranteed that neither DJ expected to get beyond the person who picked up the phone. It wasn’t a personal attack. It wasn’t sustained harassment. It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t abusive. It was stupid.

Most people – including Prince Charles – were until last week either laughing about it or calling for the two nurses to lose their jobs. Yes – the biggest outrage being expressed last week was by people calling for these two innocent women who fell for a prank to be disciplined and to lose their jobs. And perhaps the UK rags were also feeling a bit put out that these two ‘colonials’ had gotten information that they hadn’t been able to get yet.

Well may you ask why we should bloody care about Kate Middleton’s pregnancy dramas, but in our celeb-worshipping culture many do. And most of them – outside of the hospital itself - last week were calling for the heads not of the pranksters but of the women who fell for it.

Jump to a week later, and one of those women has apparently committed suicide. (Not confirmed yet by the way – perhaps she took sleeping pills and accidentally overdosed? The autopsy report hasn’t been released yet. We have no idea how she died). So the outrage this week is about the DJs having ‘blood on their hands’… and calling for them to be ‘permanently unemployed’ or ‘jailed’ or ‘shot’ or ‘hung’ or ‘strung up’. People want them humiliated. The faceless jokers who call themselves ‘Anonymous’ have proclaimed themselves judge and jury and judged them guilty of murder.
I understand the outrage. It is a horrible and tragic thing. But the over-the-top reaction makes me feel lost in the face of societal anger, hatred and lack of wisdom.

If this poor woman did commit suicide, we will never fully know why. Did this prank have something to do with it – very probably. Was it the prank itself or the outraged/ incredulous reactions of the hospital or celeb-hypnotised masses that contributed to her stress? I’m going to place my vote with the latter.

But you know – the truth is – this is a complex issue and as much as we want to be able to grasp onto simple explanations and find someone to blame, that simple explanation just doesn’t exist. It’s an illusion. And no – we can’t have this conversation in 140 characters on Twitter. It takes a lot more words. And a lot more compassion. And a lot more wisdom and thought.

Which brings me to my next point. Suicide.

(If this issue is a personal one for you, I would lovingly suggest you may not want to read further).

[SPACE]





Suicide is a terrible thing. It is – in my compassionate opinion – a tragic act committed by people who are so deep in the bowels of despair and depression that they are not able to fathom the ways in which their act will hurt and devastate the ones they love. I’m not placing blame here by the way – I understand very well the depths of despair that an individual must feel to think they have no other way out. Many even believe that their loved ones will be better off. They are in a seemingly never-ending spiral of despair and unhappiness for which only one end makes sense. It is a terrible place to be in (for some it is clinical) and those people deserve our help and compassion. But that doesn’t change the devastating effect it has on family and friends. It burdens surviving loved ones with an intolerably painful legacy. All of the grief that people feel when losing a loved one is magnified and complicated when a loved one suicides. Most people feel incredibly guilty – could I have helped? Did I miss the signs? How could I not have known? What if? What if?

So yes – let’s talk about suicide. Let’s talk about both the causes of it and the repercussions. Let’s help both those who are feeling suicidal and the families and survivors of people who have committed suicide. Survivors have to deal with oceans of guilt over these very types of issues we’re grappling with here. Mostly they don’t get the easy answers. Suicide is an act of violence on the self that ripples out and hits everyone associated with that person.

But let’s not kid ourselves here – we don’t get a ‘get out of jail free card’ on an issue like this. We don’t get to blame this suicide on two clueless DJs (who cannot have conceivably imagined that this stupid prank would end in this way) and thereby avoid having to talk about all the many cultural and personal contributing factors that would lead to such an act. We bear some collective responsibility for this through our celebrity obsessions, rancid media, cultural shaming and much more besides.

Some questions we could be asking ourselves (that could help us learn and grow from this) but aren’t, include

- How and why do we as a society make it hard for people to admit they’re ‘not coping’?
- Why do we make ‘failure’ and ‘mistakes’ such a big deal?
- What is the nature of ‘shame’ and how do we unravel it?
- Why are we fixated on celebrities and royalty to the extent that this nurse would have felt her life wasn’t worth living simply because she accidentally put through a false call?
- Are our nurses, carers and those in the helping professions sufficiently supported in the very difficult and stressful jobs they face?
- Why are we so hard on each other? So mean? So judgemental? So quick to anger? What are we hiding/ running from/ projecting away onto others? What would happen if we were to face it instead?
- Why does it take a tragedy like this for people’s hearts to be opened? Why do we close our hearts for the most part? How can we support each other to be more compassionate?
- How can we better understand suicidal depression and what can we do to help those suffering from it?
- What can we do to wean ourselves off our societal addiction to drama, negativity, the 24 hour news cycle, and meaningless gossip?
- And yes, should pranks be done away with or at the very least, better regulated? What is the appropriate level of responsibility for radio station who pull pranks?

Questions. So many helpful, useful questions that we could ask.

So – lets blame the DJs instead. Better that than take communal responsibility for our general insensitivity, for our success-obsessed culture which makes failure of any sort shameful, and for our celebrity obsessions. Just last week people were pouring over every detail of Kate Middleton’s pregnancy… juicy, juicy, juicy. Kate Middleton. Royals. Ooo err. Climate change? Whatevs. Royal pregnancy and morning sickness – now there’s a story. New Ideas and Woman’s Days were flying off the shelf. Give us more. Give us more. The prank made us laugh. We re-tweeted the shit out of that sucker. Details of her morning sickness were poured over.

So what are we really horrified over? Are we horrified at the two DJs – really? They pulled a bog-standard prank – the type of prank that is conducted by radio stations the world over. They asked the questions that every media outlet would have given their teeth to get the answers to, to satisfy a hungry horde. If the Daily Mail or the Sun or any of the other sanctimonious British tabloids making money out of leading the ‘outraged’ charge against the Aussie DJs could have gotten access to those answers from Kate’s nurses, they would have printed them in a blind second.

Or are we really horrified instead at our own societal psychopathy – a psychopathy that places importance on unimportant things and then laments when someone falls under the wheels of it. A psychopathy that enjoys the pranks and making fun of people and public humiliation, until something goes horribly wrong. Didn’t many people laugh at this prank last week? Didn’t many think it was a bit of harmless fun? Didn’t it go viral? Don’t many of us eat up that New Idea/ Woman’s Day garbage about Kate Middleton’s pregnancy, and how fat Kirstie Alley is now, and whether Rihanna will go back to her abusive ex-boyfriend?

Think about what this hard-working nurse potentially killed herself over. A prank that led to some information being released about some lady’s morning sickness. Is it just me or does this seem shamefully meaningless? Doesn’t it make you want to weep?

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that out of everything that could have contributed to this poor woman’s state of mind – the prank call itself was not the worst or even probably the biggest contributing factor. Yes, had it never happened – she could possibly still be here. But here’s another ‘IF’… if we didn’t care as much about royalty or celebrities, if the press didn’t make as big a deal out of the whole thing, if the press hadn’t hounded her, if she personally hadn’t felt humiliated over it and instead had been able to laugh it off, if the hospital had supported them unconditionally and gotten them the emotional support they needed, hell – if the hospital had even put in place the proper and obvious protocols around answering calls to do with the Duchess … if, if, if… she would also possibly still be here.

(You know what IS foreseeable? Prank calls to get information on royal pregnancies.)

If we’re talking contributing factors to scapegoat – there’s a hell of a lot of room there to share the ‘blame’… if blame is the game you want to play with this. And I guess my point here is I don’t think we should.

Let me be even more specific here – someone else, someone who wasn’t Jacintha Saldahna, may not have committed suicide over this. After all – the nurse who gave away the information, and easily made the bigger mistake, has as far as I know not harmed herself as a result. So there was something personal for Jacintha that caused this ‘humiliation’ to feel so extreme and so terrible that she could see no other way out for herself. Her personal head-space and the cultural meaning she associated to the act was as much if not more of a contributing factor to her suicide than anything else. Can we take communal responsibility for that? Should we take communal responsibility for that? A bit. A lot. I don’t have any easy answers. (Also my point).

The two DJs and their radio station ARE guilty – they’re guilty of failure to imagine that the person on the other side of the line has a different emotional reality, set of values, set of stressers, physical preconditions, and whole life going on. But that’s hardly unique. In fact, I’d say it’s at fucking epidemic levels. It is a problem that is wide-spread and largely facilitated, supported and tolerated by the masses. (And being demonstrated so aptly at the moment by the ‘outrage’ brigade).

Where does scapegoating end and communal or even personal responsibility begin? What do we learn by projecting our societal madness onto two people? And what is the logical end-point of seeking to find someone to blame, thereby avoiding the complexity of the issue?

The media collectively shamed this poor woman because we the people think Kate Middleton’s pregnancy is so bloody important in the scheme of things happening in the world today that it was nigh on horrific that her privacy had been breached – and that was a story that would sell. We also possibly humiliated her by going on about how ‘unbelievable’ it was that she fell for it and by shaming her for being so ‘stupid’ and making the mistake. And then when she apparently commits suicide from despair and humiliation (again – not certain, only postulated), we can’t cope with what that says about us as a society – so instead of having the conversation we could be having, we project our collective guilt onto the two people instead. Much easier. And mostly missing the irony of being abusive and horrible to two strangers for something we considered abusive and horrible.

Today a family is grieving and asking themselves ‘what if’ and ‘why’. They may never have the answers. We certainly never will. In the manner of many suicides, we probably won’t ever know what was going on in the mind of someone who felt so at the end of their tether that ending their pain was the only thing they could think about. Beyond family and loved ones. Beyond anything.

Our focus should be on doing whatever it takes to make her family’s journey easier. Not on spewing out even more negativity, hatred and vitriol. Lending the inner blackness of our rampant human and societal egos to an ever dissolving public discourse.

A tragedy happened here. Let’s treat it with the reverence, wisdom and compassion it deserves.

Just a thought.

PS. So much more to say… so much already said. I may also do a blog post some time about the phenomena of projecting personal grief onto a stranger’s death. But that’ll do for now. If you’re after a good read on this issue, Bernard Keane breaks it down well in Crikey:
http://www.crikey.com.au/2012/12/10/resisting-the-witch-hunt-on-the-royal-prank-call/

Monday 3 December 2012

A Thank You For Strong Women



As a little girl, I wanted to do something important with my life. In stories and movies, I always associated with the hero (usually a male). I was always opinionated and passionate. I always cared very deeply. I wanted to do something extraordinary – something that would shine and inspire others. Something that would change the world for the better. I wanted to climb mountains. Scale battlements. Inspire the masses. Storm the castle. Give me golden armour and a sword; and maybe a gypsy earring. Let me dance by the open fire in a forest. Let me howl at the moon with the wolves. Let me paint, act, sing, dance, tell stories. Let me suck the marrow out of life. 

As a little girl, this all seemed possible to me. I refused to believe people when they told me life wasn’t like that. I refused to listen to those who told me to be more ‘realistic’. I had no concept, as a little girl, that there were different rules for women than for men. I had no idea of it. Despite my dad being quite a traditionalist in his personal life and relationship with my mum – with his daughters he tread a more liberal, progressive, and enabling line. We were to get an education and be able to take care of ourselves. While he didn’t believe that I could quite do anything I wanted to (starting with being an actress, astronaut or archaeologist), he did believe I should have a career. Marriage was less important.

As a little girl, I believed I should be able to do anything and I fought against anyone who tried to tell me differently. My mum had always told me I could. There was no reason to think otherwise.
It took some time, an introduction to some very conservative views in the Greek-Australian community at University, and the slow dawning of the mainstream media on my consciousness to realise that a lot of the rest of the world didn’t agree with me.

I didn’t realise it was more important to the mainstream community that I be lady-like or ‘feminine’ than that I have opinions about the world. It dawned on me quite late, that getting married was a very important sign of ‘desirability’ and acceptableness in the world. When an ex-boyfriend of mine at university angrily opined that he wished I’d stop hanging around with the guys talking politics, and go talk to the ’girls’ about ‘girl stuff’ (e.g. shoes) instead, I gaped at him like he’d grown two horns on his head and pooped out an elephant.

But the more I saw of this stuff, the more I realised I didn’t fit in. Only in later life did I realise how many damaging things I’d internalised over the years. And the beliefs were pretty insidious:  


  • Strong women aren’t loveable, men find them too intimidating and frightening. I was a strong woman so I must be unloveable.
  • ‘Feminism’ is dirty, dirty word. I’d have to let go of that if I was ever to find love. If only I could let go of this idea of ‘feminism’ I’d be able to twist a man around my little finger. But ‘feminism’? A man’s ego wouldn’t allow it.
  •  I had a chip on my shoulder. I was too angry.
  •  I wasn’t lady-like enough. I was too opinionated. I didn’t care enough about how I looked.
  • Dreams were a waste of time. The world was run by money and self-interest, and I’d need to lose my idealism if I wanted to get by. My dreams would die under the harsh light of the ‘real world’.
  • Expressing myself authentically makes other people uncomfortable. I should try for less of that, and more of getting along well with others. Then I’d get whatever I wanted, but first I needed to learn how to ‘play the game’. My straight forward manner was problematic. I was problematic.


I don’t particularly blame anyone for these opinions by the way – it is just the stuff out there in the mainstream narrative that I internalised without realising how deeply those beliefs stood in my way. And society doesn’t mean it to be damaging. Even your parents – when they tell you these things – are only trying to protect you and keep you safe. Most of the time people want what’s best for you. Everyone is doing their best. Many people are themselves living in the shadow and limitations of these beliefs.

I can’t quite put into words what this is like though, when you feel the pressure of this narrative on one side and the siren call of your own soul on the other. I’ll only say that it creates a dichotomy – a splitting on a deep soul level – between who you feel yourself to authentically be and who you end up trying to become in order to please the world and ‘fit in’. In order to make people less uncomfortable. For many years, I tried to squeeze the complexity of myself into a box labelled ‘acceptable’. Of course, it made me miserable and I was never very good at it.
Anyone who has ever felt out of step with mainstream values and societal norms will know the loneliness and often the sense of helplessness this can engender. It is lonely to feel yourself at the fringe of society and to not see yourself reflected in the world around you. 

I only decided to take the long journey into reclaiming my essential self after my second serious relationship broke down. It was only then – at about age 26 – that I started to question everything about who I was, where I was going, who I’d allowed myself to be, what was true for me and what was not. The next decade was about this slow, crucial reclaiming of myself – culminating in finding impro in my late 30’s and returning to my most authentic self. And still, there have been demons to fight, personal dragons to slay, and childhood traumas to heal. The process isn’t over yet. It probably will never be over.

So I am extremely grateful today to reflect on all of this and realise – looking around me – that I am suddenly surrounded by strong, capable, confident, talented, spiritual and connected women, who model for me both on stage and in their own lives the kind of woman I love and have always hoped to be. And they are incredible. They challenge everyone around them (men and women alike) to rise to their level – rather than forcing themselves to sink down into the box society calls ‘acceptable’. They shine brightly, and unapologetically, and in so doing inspire all around them to shine too.

So to those women I today give heartfelt thanks – you know who you are. You rock my world. Thanks for existing and for being in my life, so that I can now look back at little Vicki and tell her there’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. That she is perfect just as she is.

And somewhere in the deep past, a five year old girl looks up and gives me a bright, world-changing, wolf-howling, loving grin.  “Head up, kid. You’re not alone.”