(Photo: iStock)
(Photo: iStock)

MediaDecember 14, 2015

The Perils of Reporting on Mental Health

 (Photo: iStock)
(Photo: iStock)

Jess McAllen writes about a recent story on mental health issues in the teaching profession – troubling, but not for the reasons its author thought.

When I applied for a job at Fairfax in 2014 I was faced with the question that all people with mental health conditions dread.

“Journalism can be a stressful environment,” the application form stated. “Do you have any physical or mental condition that could affect your job?”

I spent a good 48 hours deliberating about stating mine. It’s quite an existential question, especially if your diagnosis is still up in the air. Isn’t everyone a bit mentally ill anyway? What is normal? What is life? Ah.

Friends told me about times they opened up about their mental health conditions only to be stigmatised, ostracised and have it come back to haunt them for irrelevant reasons.

A former journalism tutor and mentor emailed back to my panicked query about whether it would be stupid to be honest. The polite version of his candid response was that if you removed all the neurotics from the nation’s newsrooms there would be no one left.

On Sunday, Stuff.co.nz ran a piece Nearly 100 Mentally-ill Teachers Investigated by the Education Council in the Past Six Years.

I would like to assume the reporter is a kind person who was probably under the pressure of deadlines and perhaps doesn’t have much knowledge about mental health stigma. Trying to pump out five stories a day while investigating the big stuff you really care about on the side is an inevitable part of modern journalism – and one that most critics don’t take into account when dissing clickbait content. But the story is harmful and the potential flow-on effect is huge. After reading it my heart sank and I wasn’t sure I could even get the words together to explain why I felt so let down.

Schoolchildren and teacher studying in school library

Now there’s a bunch of people who’ve read that article, including teaching college graduates, and they have just been handed a solid reason to not declare they have a mental illness when they apply for a teaching job.

Before people hate on Stuff, consider they have been doing amazing work around their Faces of Innocents project and Ashleigh Stewart did an in-depth series of stories on mental health recently that had a positive impact on the Christchurch community. The reporter of this story is probably an all good dude and mental health can be a tricky thing to report on.

“Since 2009, 99 teachers referred for investigation by the Education Council over concerns about their practice were found to have a range of disorders,” stated the story, “including depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, substance abuse or addiction, post-traumatic stress disorder, ADHD and Asperger’s syndrome.”

The incidences: notification of a criminal conviction, 32; incompetence, 25; alcohol or drug abuse, 8; aggressive, violent or rough behaviour, 7; harassment or bullying, 2; theft or dishonesty, 4.

None of these things are necessarily related to a mental illness. Sure, someone with bipolar can abuse alcohol – but so can someone without a mental illness. Same goes with a criminal conviction. The incompetence is not always the fault of the mental illness, and while in some cases they may be linked, to equate the two is irresponsible.

Six paragraphs in, we find out this figure came from the list of 100,000 registered teachers. Over six years. Not once in the story are we given the total number of teachers who were investigated – a critical piece of information in helping determine whether there really is a problem here.

Nor can we compare it to the number of teachers who are mentally ill but coping damn well and using their experiences to help other kids at school – a place rampant with bullying and pressure that results in inevitable stress for young people. The most recent suicide statistics show 150 youth took their own lives in 2012.

Teachers like my year 10 English teacher who sent me a card when I started taking anti-depressants saying that she, too, took them and I would get through. What a light in a time of darkness that was.

And of those 99 teachers, four had their registration cancelled, one was suspended and six others had conditions of work enforced “including further training or medical treatment”.

That’s 11 teachers who were reprimanded – seven other investigations are yet to be completed – over a six year period. Doesn’t seem like a lot out of a pool of 100,000.

Putting aside the fact someone thought it was interesting and not at all strange to ask for records of mentally ill teacher complaints under the Official Information Act, basic tenets of journalism have not been met here.

At the very bottom of the story we see the largest amount of “incidents” from the mentally ill teachers occurred in 2010 (25). The lowest number of “incidents” occurred last year where there were just four. So the trend runs down.

This year there have been 14. That’s 14 incidents that may or may not be related to mental illness in the past year – and we still don’t know how many incidents there have been in total because the author decided that not to be relevant to the story?

As a journalist I sympathise. Nothing is worse than thinking you are getting a juicy story before having it fall flat. Sometimes you just have to let the story go. Or, better yet, analyse why you thought there was a story there to begin with.

Keep going!
AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – MARCH 30:  Centrepoints former leader Bert Potter returned to the Albany commune, Tuesday after serving nine years in jail for child sex offences and drug charges.  (Photo by John Sefton/Getty Images)
AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – MARCH 30: Centrepoints former leader Bert Potter returned to the Albany commune, Tuesday after serving nine years in jail for child sex offences and drug charges. (Photo by John Sefton/Getty Images)

MediaDecember 14, 2015

New Zealand’s 10 Best News Features of 2015

AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – MARCH 30:  Centrepoints former leader Bert Potter returned to the Albany commune, Tuesday after serving nine years in jail for child sex offences and drug charges.  (Photo by John Sefton/Getty Images)
AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND – MARCH 30: Centrepoints former leader Bert Potter returned to the Albany commune, Tuesday after serving nine years in jail for child sex offences and drug charges. (Photo by John Sefton/Getty Images)

Naomi Arnold, editor and publisher of the brilliant Featured website, selects the 10 best non-fiction news features of 2015.

Since Featured began nearly two years ago, we’ve been collecting the best New Zealand non-fiction writing, creating an online library where you’ll always find something good to read. Here’s a selection of some stories we’ve enjoyed most this year – and if you’re not into these, there’s a couple hundred more to choose from at featured.org.nz.

Send your favourites to read@featured.org.nz so we can share them with our feature writing enthusiasts in our weekly newsletter, and from next year, look out for us here at The Spinoff, when we start a podcast series interviewing some of New Zealand’s best true storytellers.

“The moral crusade I’m now on is a slippery slope. The past months have taken their toll. I can only think or talk about Centrepoint, equally driven and exhausted, feeling the weight of all the expectations and accusations deep in my body. Every morning, I wake up with a tight chest, dreading yet another confrontational email. Instead of becoming [abuse victim] Louise Winn’s ally, I should be seeing a therapist myself.”

After Centrepoint leader and sex abuser Bert Potter died in 2012, journalist Anke Richter started writing a book on the commune. But after interviewing more than two dozen people, she became overwhelmed by the survivors’ grief and pain, and found herself a long way from objectivity.

“Neil was the one who found Jeng on the morning she died. On the first few days afterwards, in deep trauma, when numbness set in, he said that he became like a sea anemone, responding only to the environment around him in each moment. I keep picturing a sea anemone, attached to the sea bottom, its skeletonless body triggered by the slightest touch. Beneath the weight of miles of water above it, it moves around very slowly in the dark.”

There’s not much writing about suicide, and how it affects those left behind in confusion and despair – and certainly not much that is this well-written.

“I left Christchurch in June last year, just before my 26th birthday. I boxed up all my belongings, stored them in my Nana’s garage and said goodbye to my job at the Press, my long-term boyfriend, my family, my friends and my Dad’s grave. I told everyone I needed an adventure, a fresh start, a bigger city. Really, I left because I felt trapped.”

Olivia Carville was a 22-year-old junior reporter when the deadly Christchurch earthquake hit, and her and Daniel Tobin’s raw video footage shot while escaping the centre city was some of the first to emerge. The video is still affecting four years on, showing the shock and grief of those first few minutes post-quake, against a background of car and building alarms. Carville spent the next years reporting on earthquake stories, but this year, from Canada, she reflected on why she had to leave.   

“Contractions. Nausea. Broken waters. Down to delivery, where technicians are setting up a $30,000 “Giraffe” neonatal cot with its long neck and overhanging heater. Antibiotics through the just-in-case cannula. Magnesium sulphate for something. Shivers. Strangely tense legs. Beeping machines. Labour is definitely uncomfortable, but not outrageously painful. She’s just getting the hang of the pushing when suddenly it’s done. Once the head’s through Theodore just slips out. It’s 5.38am.

He’s tiny, like a little doll. But there’s hardly time to marvel at him before he’s whisked away, because the birth isn’t over yet, and it’s going wrong. The placenta won’t come away despite increasingly vigorous tugging, and then it tears – three-quarters comes away but the rest is still in the uterus.”

Adam Dudding followed little Theodore and his parents, Rebecca and Cameron, for 13 weeks, as a traumatic birth followed an early labour – and then a struggle to get three-pound Theo well enough to come home.

“He sat and talked to them, he said. He called them, “My girls.” He said, “I’m a Christian, and I know I’ll see my girls in heaven.”

But he murdered them. He executed his wife, brought an axe down hard on his daughter’s head seven times, slaughtered the both of them – at least according to the jury at his trial in 2002, and another jury reached the same verdict this week, at the Wellington High Court, when he was found guilty on Wednesday afternoon. It didn’t feel shocking.”

Steve Braunias spent seven weeks covering the Mark Lundy trial for the New Zealand Herald, and produced a string of chilling reports like this one. For the years of fine work on Lundy that led to court this year, see Mike White’s North & South coverage – unfortunately not online.

“Anna is eloquent, something she attributes to her “posh” state school background. At 16, she abandoned school, instead working on and off on the street.

“When I last worked it would have been four or five years ago. The amount of girls is, like, triple now. It’s because of housing,” she says. This time around she has been out here for three months.

It is 6.04pm. Time to walk to her spot outside Vision College. Ever since the heels went on, she is harder, swaggering and defiant. She “hates herself” for being back out here.

“I’m darker. A lot harder, like putting up a wall. I have more of a stone for a heart than a heart, I guess,” she says flinching as she looks away, her fingers itching for a cigarette that isn’t there. She stares down the street. Over the next year Anna will attempt to leave Manchester St twice.”

Shelley Robinson spent a year getting to know some of Manchester St’s sex workers, and produced a rare piece of insight and empathy.

“By the time Dallas Mildenhall got there, Kirsa Jensen was long gone. Kirsa’s horse Commodore was back home with the schoolgirl’s grieving family and police had cleared away the rope that tethered him to the gun emplacement, where Kirsa was last seen.

All attention was fixed on that 3.5m length of cord, thought to belong to whoever was responsible for the 14-year-old Napier girl’s disappearance. At the time – 1983 – it was New Zealand’s most intensively investigated piece of evidence, ever.

The first Mildenhall saw of that Feltex Duralene rope was when it turned up in his lab. The cops had run out of options. His Dad and the case detective had got talking – they belonged to the same club.

Up until then, Dr Mildenhall – palynologist – had mostly spent his time examining fossilised pollen to help date oil deposits. The idea of using pollen to fight crime was novel – to Mildenhall, to New Zealand and, largely, to the world.”

Nikki Macdonald must be the hardest-working weekly feature writer in the country – she’s won multiple awards and writes on fascinating topics every week. This profile is just one recent example.

“On June 5, 1999, at their rural Tirau home, Tokona bundled Simon, Winiata and Alex into the family’s white Ford Fairmont and drove the 5km to Tirau to visit her elderly uncle. It was 9pm.

She asked her uncle for a Bible and a copy of her whakapapa (family tree). They stayed about 20 minutes and then headed off.  But they didn’t make it home.”

Part of Fairfax’s recent Faces of Innocents series, examining New Zealand’s tragically high rates of child abuse. Florence Kerr and Mike Scott put together a compelling video and story package.

“Hazel*, 16, got into fight after fight as a junior student, and was only saved from expulsion by a compassionate principal and her marks – which were good despite an abysmal attendance record. These days, she comes to school almost 80 per cent of the time, except when she is sick or her mum needs help with siblings. Or, like that day earlier this year, when catastrophe strikes. Her family rang and told her “just like it was a normal, daily thing”, she says. She spent the rest of that day between the police station and the hospital, desperately trying to see if her dad was okay.”

Kirsty Johnston is a tireless education reporter for the New Zealand Herald. Here’s the first of a series she did on the poverty divide in education, and how it threatens the futures of our young people.

“One drink in, it became clear that date number one didn’t think too much of my profile.

He had a point. I had not even attempted the first section, “My self-summary.” Answering, “What am I doing right now?” I had replied, “Suffering questions designed to provoke existential dread.” I had left “The most private thing I am willing to admit” blank. I had also misspelled my moniker and couldn’t change it without paying money, so was stuck with VivanRutledge.

“I thought you were cagey,” he said. “Are you afraid your students will find you?”

I had not worried about it before.”

Not your average online dating story.


Read more terrific New Zealand feature writing every week at Featured.org.nz