Cease and desist

I received the letter below from John Hain’s attorney J. Morgan Levy yesterday.

Yes. Eastman’s Senior Associate Dean and Title IX Coordinator is threatening to sue a student who reported concerns to him, reported his mishandling of those concerns to the university, and published her own first-hand account of the events. This is how things are going at the Eastman School of Music.

This letter is the only significant response I have received from anyone on Eastman’s leadership team since publicly raising concerns about a total lack of safety nets for its students. That’s right - a cease and desist letter with the threat of a lawsuit - against me.

If it seems surprising to you, it’s not surprising to me. When I was raising these same concerns at Eastman, I received not one, but two, abruptly written syllabi in response.

One would have failed me out of the program for continuing to take the accommodations I’d agreed on in response to reporting harassment - accommodations proposed by the University of Rochester’s Title IX Coordinator Julia Green.

Being threatened is not new, although it will never, ever feel normal.

I have deliberated - openly in this space - about what is and isn’t responsible to share. What I’ve written here is true, and it’s consistent with what I’ve told university investigators and Eastman’s administration - for months.

Excerpts from my report to the University of Rochester

Email to Jamal Rossi

I’ve gotten sound legal advice that sharing my account of events is not defamatory or illegal, and that the letter from John Hain’s attorney is primarily intended for intimidation.

This doesn’t scare me. I find it absurd and, in many ways, totally predictable, given how this whole story has played out so far. But it did scare my wife. It made her cry. And I’m not the only one who absorbs the endless stream of hostility from men who feel entitled to control what I say - and there are so, so many. So I’m taking down the posts because I love my wife. If and when she’s comfortable with my putting them back up - and I think she’ll get there - I will.

I’ve said that oversharing can feel irresponsible for obvious reasons. And I’ve said that undersharing can feel irresponsible because it leaves a lot to the imagination. But notice that the concern - in both those options, and it’s so baked into our thinking that we fail to notice it - is for men who already have far, far more protection than me. (Keep in mind that, according to Eastman’s organizational chart, John Hain - the man who is threatening to sue me - is the highest ranking person in Eastman’s leadership besides its dean.)

Yes, I do still give serious consideration to how what I say affects those men. But we must - we must - shift where we place concern. If you feel that you’re being reasonable and moderate and fair by considering the damage sharing these accounts does to these men, I’m here to tell you that you’re none of those things. Not until you give real, deep, serious consideration to the people - overwhelmingly but not exclusively women - whose lives and self-worth are eroded by not sharing these stories.

Have you considered what ducking out of the room for an entire school year did to my reputation? How about being constantly stressed, distracted, and uncomfortable, all because of someone else’s misconduct?

What about the damage done by a tenured faculty member - my primary advisor - who refused to communicate with me because I raised concerns about his seriously troubling behavior? What about an institution that knew it was happening and did nothing about it, despite the fact that it was clearly against university policy?

How about an institution that removed the accommodations I agreed to - based solely on the wishes of the man I reported, without so much as asking me? Have you considered what that did to my own sense of safety, knowing that the few guardrails in place were just for show?

Have you considered the number of times I’ve seriously thought about dropping out of my doctorate - a doctorate in which I am on full scholarship, which I was admitted to by unanimous orchestra vote, a doctorate which I am the only woman admitted to in years? Have you considered what kind of damage that would do to my professional life - and that it truly is a serious possibility?

Or is the expectation that it’s just the unseen cost of doing business at the Eastman School of Music - and that if you make it seen, you might get sued?

If you think you are being reasonable and moderate and fair by saying we need to let the process play out, then you have the privilege of believing that a fair process exists. I engaged in no misconduct, and I lost a year of time, opportunity, and sanity - all while the process plays out. That’s present tense. It’s still going, and I brought forward documented concerns in October.

The men I reported have lost nothing in that time. And just the idea of losing anything makes them so panicked and angry they’re willing to threaten me over it.

If you think you are being reasonable and moderate and fair by saying there are two sides to every story, you have the luxury of believing that both sides of the story count. There are two sides to every story, yes, but the reality is we can only act on one.

And the default - to this day - is for an institutions like Eastman and so many others to act - to act - on his side of the story, not mine. Don’t think that MeToo or Believe Women has moved the needle on that. Don’t think that the institutional reaction you see in some of the most extreme cases is the norm.

No, these institutions only jump to correct these situations when they’re so appalling that their very existence is threatened. Without that threat, they are perfectly happy to sacrifice women’s time, experience, and safety to keep the status quo humming along.

The hashtagged support for women is not what happens behind closed doors, especially not in a field where - for all the window dressing of diversity programs - echo chambers of straight, white, privileged men still hold enormous power with minimal accountability.

The degree to which I have been dismissed, ignored, patronized, and controlled in this process - the degree to which I have been shut out of conversations about my own work and education - conversations about my own life - has been shocking. It has also been dehumanizing and humiliating.

And this, friends, is misogyny. The blind impulse that when a woman says something you don’t like, she should be handled, not listened to. And I have been handled in this process over and over and over again. I think the letter above makes that abundantly clear.

This is from an email that I sent Jamal Rossi in March. It’s about a student I met shortly before she received her acceptance letter from Eastman:

By sheer coincidence, I conducted Eastman’s orchestra the day that prospective students and families visited this year. That student was there. She was excited to see me and found me to say hi before rehearsal started.

I really didn’t know how to feel about it. I was happy to see her. It was a nice surprise. But I was encouraging her to come to a school where I - at that very moment - didn’t really feel safe myself. She was watching me stand on a podium acting happy and confident and comfortable when, in reality, I was none of those things.

Yes. Sharing these stories has costs. I happen to think the cost of not sharing them is far, far greater. I also happen to think I have been far, far more responsible in my handling of these issues than the Eastman School of Music has been - with my concerns or with many others - and I’m a TA making $600 a month.

As I said in a now redacted post - when I first walked into John Hain’s office, I did not ask for anyone to be fired. I did not ask for anything to happen to anyone. I asked for a comfortable workspace - for myself.

And this is where we are. I’m being threatened with a lawsuit by the man whose job it was to advocate for me. Eastman will be hard-pressed to say that my concerns are exaggerated or misplaced.

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