Two weeks ago, The Stute published my piece “Aileen Quinn.” Everyone has shared their polarized thoughts on the article. Some people criticize The Stute for even considering running the piece, while others truly appreciated the piece and its goals. As the author of the piece, I have not shared my experience writing this article yet.
Last October, I wrote a column critiquing the mental health environment at Stevens. After my column was published, Sean Quinn, Aileen’s father, reached out to me to arrange an interview. Soon enough, we met at a Panera and talked for about three hours. He shared information with me and provided me with documents regarding potential warning signs that Stevens missed surrounding Aileen’s death. Sean wanted me to share her story to help raise awareness about mental health and suicide prevention at Stevens.
After discussing my conversation and all the new information I learned with Stute Editor-in-Chief Audrey Dsouza, we decided to focus an entire issue on mental health — a first in “generations” of The Stute. This was an important issue. Her story is why we chose February 14t for the date of this issue.
Between this decision and the February 14 issue, I spent over 30 hours on the piece. Working through documents, writing drafts, editing the piece, discussing the piece, trying to make the piece the best it could be. I sought out to create an objective overview of potential warning signs leading up to her death.
Many individuals, including those within The Stute and consultants who specialized in mental health journalism, read the piece and suggested edits in the weeks before the piece was published. I accepted and agreed with most of these suggestions. However, about six hours before publication, someone took it upon themselves to drastically change the entire piece. I was furious; the piece was not mine at this point. Ultimately, I was able to catch and revert about 80% of the changes. But what did the other 20% include? The method of death — a fact that the e-board made a conscious decision and effort to NOT include.
I didn’t catch that this information was included until nearly two hours after the piece was published. I removed it as soon as I noticed — but it was too late. Hundreds of individuals had read the piece online and screenshots were circulating in group chats. There was nothing that I—or the rest of The Stute’s executive board—could do.
Even with this information removed, the piece was not an easy read. We had a hard time sifting through the information provided; most of this information never made the final piece. Even with the smaller subset of information, it’s a difficult, intimate read. I understood this when crafting the piece. We had warnings on the website and in the print issue. It was not intended to be an easy read.
Aileen’s father requested that I share her story to help raise awareness about mental health. I agreed. My feature provided an objective review of potential missed warning signs. I feel that my feature accomplished this goal. The rest of the mental health issue accompanied the story by providing updated information on mental health resources and initiatives at Stevens. I did not seek out to write a memorial piece. I never interacted with Aileen before her death, let alone was I close to her. I would have not been able to accurately portray her personality.
None of us can truly be sure about how Aileen wanted to be remembered. We can’t say that she wanted to be remembered with an objective piece about potential warning signs. We also can’t say that she wanted to be remembered with a memorial piece about her personality. It’s not for any of us to say — we are not her.
I’m proud of my work, and with the published piece after some of the edits were reverted. The piece started the conversation and will hopefully inspire action to improve protocols surrounding mental health warning signs here at Stevens.
If you have any other questions or comments, please feel free to reach out to me directly.
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