Reprint: Lower Suicide Rates in Teachers and Librarians

 

Teachers and librarians are among those least likely to die by suicide − public health researchers offer insights on what this means for other professions

One reason teachers have a low suicide rate may be that they find meaning in their jobs. Digital Vision/Getty Images

Jordan Batchelor, Arizona State University; Charles Max Katz, Arizona State University, and Taylor Cox, Arizona State University

Where you work affects your risk of dying by suicide. For example, loggers, musicians and workers in the oil and gas industries have much higher rates of suicide than the rest of the population.

But on the flip side, some professions have very low rates of suicide. One of them is education. National and state data shows that educators in the U.S., including teachers, professors and librarians, are among the least likely to die by suicide.

We’re a team of researchers at the Center for Violence Prevention and Community Safety at Arizona State University. We manage Arizona’s Violent Death Reporting System, part of a surveillance system sponsored by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention with counterparts in all 50 U.S. states, Washington D.C., and Puerto Rico. We collect data on violent deaths, including suicide, thanks to agreements with local medical examiners and law enforcement.

When public health researchers like us look at suicide data, we often focus on high-risk populations to learn where intervention and prevention are most needed. But we can learn from low-risk populations such as educators too.

Why some professions have higher suicide rates

Over the past 25 years, the suicide rate in the U.S. has increased significantly.

The age-adjusted rate in 2022 was 14.2 suicides per 100,000 people, up from 10.9 a little over two decades earlier, according to the National Center for Health Statistics. Epidemiologists often adjust data for age to allow for a fairer comparison of incidence rates across populations with different age distributions.

But not all populations are affected equally. For example, military veterans die by suicide at higher rates than civilians, as do men, older adults and American Indian and Alaska Natives, to name a few demographics. In 2022 the suicide rate for men, for instance, was 23 suicides per 100,000, versus 5.9 for women.

The rate of suicide among the working-age population is also growing. Over the past two decades it has increased by 33%, reaching a rate of 32 suicides per 100,000 for men and eight for women in 2021. And workers in certain occupations are at higher risk of dying by suicide than others.

The reasons why are complex and diverse. Workers in construction, an industry with some of the highest suicide rates, may face greater stigma getting help for mental health issues, while people in other fields such as law enforcement may be more exposed to traumatic experiences, which can harm their mental health.

In short, some explanations are directly tied to one’s work, such as having low job security, little autonomy or agency, and an imbalance of work efforts and rewards. Other factors are more indirect, such as an occupation’s demographic makeup or the type of personality that chooses a profession. Together, factors like these help explain the rate of suicide across occupations.

Book Reviews: The Brutal and Hopeless Beauty of Ballet

 Bright Burning Stars, by A.K. Small (Algonquin Young Readers)

Ballet, for all its ethereal beauty, is brutal physically and even more devastating emotionally as young dancers distort their bodies and vie with one another for the precious few openings that lead to stardom. Nowhere is this pressure-cooker atmosphere more evident than in the boarding schools that feed dancers into prestigious companies. Bright Burning Stars examines the price of such success and asks whether a friendship can survive it.

The story centers on two young women in their final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School. Kate and Marine have been inseparable, best friends, declaring that if they cannot both receive the coveted Prize, neither will have it. As the year progresses, however, pressures mount. Marine, still unable to come to terms with the death of her twin brother who was her inspiration in ballet, descends into anorexia. Kate throws herself into an infatuation with the charismatic senior male dancer, with the result of an unintended pregnancy. Instead of drawing Kate and Marine closer for support, each turn for the worse only seems to widen the gulf between them.

The strengths of the story include strong, flowing prose; engaging characters that change and grow; a vivid depiction of a world that few outside the profession of ballet ever experience; a passionate portrayal of the sensual glory of ballet as an art form; and keen insight into the psychological and physical stresses on dancers. These are significant strengths, indeed, enough to captivate the reader. The narrative kept me turning the pages and caring about the fate of Kate and Marine.

On the down side, watching the two main characters slide into mental illness (for example, eating disorder, severe codependence, obsession, suicidal ideation) was unrelentingly grim. The absence of adult supervision and care was exemplified by the scene, late in the book, where Kate goes to the director with concerns about Marine’s life-threatening symptoms and is essentially blown off and accused of trying to eliminate a rival.

Either these young women are particularly dysfunctional or else the entire realm of ballet is remarkably deficient in healthy relationships. That much I could buy, however, and even the way the school encourages toxic competition at the expense of the health of its students. What was less believable was the ease with which Kate and Marine turned their lives around. Both suffer from serious disorders, neither receives competent psychotherapy – or any counseling at all – and yet a simple “realization” seems sufficient to resolve their problems.

Suicide Attempt Predictors Among Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Youth (Article Review)

From Open Minded Health, reposted with permission:

LGBT youth are at elevated risk for suicide. Researchers have been looking into the risk factors for suicide in LGBT youth. Most of the studies so far have been cross-sectional; that means they only studied how things are once, at one point in time. Longitudinal studies, in contrast, measure at multiple points in time. Longitudinal studies are expensive, and risk losing track of participants, but they provide more information.

This year, the first longitudinal study of LGBT youth suicide risk factors was published. The participants were interviewed twice, a year apart. Both times, they were psychiatrically evaluated and asked about suicide attempts. They filled out questionnaires evaluating hopelessness, impulsivity, social support, gender non-conformity, age of same-sex attraction, and LGBT-related victimization.

In this sample, roughly 31.6% of the participants had attempted suicide. This is far higher than the 8% rate reported by the CDC. Seven variables were associated with previous suicide attempts: hopelessness, impulsivity, LGBT-related victimization, low family support, being younger when first feeling same-sex attraction (for LGB youth), and symptoms of either depression or conduct disorder. That is, the more hopeless or impulsive the youth, the more likely it is that they have previously made a suicide attempt. Gender non-conforming behavior and peer support did not seem to affect suicide risk. When it came to predicting future suicide attempts, the best predictor was previous suicide attempts. Youth who had previously attempted suicide had a 10 times greater risk of another attempt compared to those who hadn’t attempted suicide.

As always, these results should be accepted with caution