LJ Talks to Penny Coleman

Melody Ballard of the Washoe County Library System, Reno, NV -- Library Journal, 4/4/2006

In her upcoming Flashback: Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, Suicide, and the Lessons of War (Beacon), Penny Coleman offers both a history of PTSD and an intimate account of military wives' struggles with the condition. Coleman's own husband committed suicide after returning from the Vietnam War, and according to LJ reviewer Melody Ballard, Washoe Cty. Library System, Reno, NV, Coleman makes a solid case for preventing future "collateral damage."

LJ: Was there one specific "trigger" from which you felt compelled to write the deeply moving book Flashback, or was it a culmination of personal experiences and current events?

I'm a documentary photographer and an oral historian. I love listening to people talk about their lives, especially when what they want to talk about relates to something unresolved in my own. In the case of Flashback, I wanted to hear how other women had survived their husbands' suicides and whether they blamed themselves, their husbands or the war. So I began interviewing other women whose husbands were also veterans of the war in Vietnam, who came home with what is now known as PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder), and had subsequently taken their own lives. The more I talked to other widows, the angrier I got. We all blamed our selves for not having loved enough, or noticed enough, or intervened appropriately. We had failed; we were abandoned. The government knew better and they didn't tell us. They exploited the stigma attached both to PTSD and to suicide that isolated and silenced us. I was about two years into my research when the US invaded Afghanistan and then Iraq. What had been primarily an historical investigation was transformed into a cautionary tale.

In reading your book, I was impacted by the definition of "collateral damage" provided by the United States Army. I felt that you, the author, were a manifestation of "collateral damage" of the Vietnam War. Do you see yourself as such?

Collateral damage is a euphemism the military adopted in Vietnam for unintentional damage. War, in other words, is a messy business; sometimes the wrong people get hurt, but if we didn't mean to do it, it's not our fault. By that definition, yes, I would be an example of collateral damage. But I don't accept their definition. I do blame the military for failing to prioritize the mental health of soldiers. I do blame the VA for making us fight for diagnoses and support. I do blame the government for refusing to study the relationship between combat, PTSD and suicide and then for using the absence of proof to justify their disgraceful lack of preparedness for the looming mental health needs of yet another generation of soldiers and veterans. Collateral damage in this case is just doublespeak for ignoring the safety and health of soldiers, veterans and their families.

You set out a "web call" through the "Vietnam Veterans of America" web page. How effective was this?

I got very few responses from the VVA bulletin and none of those were from women. I put outreach bulletins everywhere I could think of,: any web site that had anything to do with veterans or PTSD or suicide; I put bulletins in newsletters and on VA walls; I spoke at conferences, wrote magazine articles, and contacted community leaders, antiwar activists, and veterans' spokespeople. I don't think there is any right way to do outreach. The internet is an incredible tool, but it is only one of many. Successful outreach is still about identifying the actual or virtual places where people you most want to talk to are most likely to go for information or community. The most productive source for Flashback was the Gold Star Wives newsletter, probably because their target audience is military widows.

At what point in your life did you decide to become a photojournalist? Was there some type of "master plan" or did this slowly evolve?

I use a camera as a passport, a legitimate excuse to bear witness to moments, both public and private, of outrage, celebration, courage, hidden suffering, shared history, commonalties of interest. Photojournalism was my major when Daniel and I were in photography school and my first job when I came back to N.Y. after leaving him was as a stringer for the NY Times. I taught photojournalism and documentary for years and worked on a number of individual and group projects. Over time, I became increasingly appreciative of the freedom one has to shape a work when you control the photographs and the text. That meant I had to find my own funding sources. Writing grants taught me to articulate what I was trying to do with my photographs and somewhere along the line, actually with Flashback, I was seduced by the ways words can be precise when photographs can't.The reverse is of course true as well, but now I have choices I didn't have before.

You're most well known for Village Elders a wonderful contribution to both senior and gay and lesbian studies. How did you go about seeking subjects for your work?

The majority of my subjects for Village Elders came through my connections at SAGE (Senior Action in a Gay Environment). But even with SAGE behind me, I was asking for very personal, intimate information and trust was essential. I developed a few strategies that worked well for Village Elders, and equally well for Flashback. Most notably, I didn't ask for releases until everyone was comfortable with the finished product. It meant I lost some interesting stories and sometimes had to settle for a photograph I wouldn't have chosen, but it certainly made people feel safer and so more open. It also made them more comfortable about introducing me to their friends. With Village Elders, most of my subjects were word of mouth referrals. The internet was only marginally useful, but that's mostly because my subjects all retired before computers became a complicated, expensive new way of life.

I see your work as profoundly moving and enlightening. How do you see yourself?

Well, thanks. I like to think of myself as an advocate for change, specifically in the direction of justice. Right now I believe that justice would be served by getting American troops out of Iraq immediately and it is a gift to have a platform from which to argue that opinion. But I also know that a lot of well-meaning Americans disagree with me. Regardless of how we feel about this war, I hope we can all agree that if we send soldiers to fight in our name, we should take care of them when they bring their wounded bodies and/or minds home. That is not happening now.

What's next on the horizon for Penny Coleman?

That depends on what happens with Flashback. At the moment, there is no end in sight to this war, and I am committed to using any visibility the book affords to advocate for PTSD vets and their families. I am also collaborating with two extraordinary women on a play based on interviews I did for the book. Theatre is a wholly new experience for me, different and exciting, and I hope we can pull it off.In different ways, and hopefully to different audiences, both the book and the play stress that PTSD and suicide are inevitable consequences of combat that should be included in any honest reckoning of the true costs of war.