By Brian O’Leary
“Ex-Saugerties High wrestling coach charged with 18 counts of rape.”
I woke up the other day with a text from a friend who highlighted an article in the local newspaper which had the above headline. The school had hired a 30-year-old man to teach the girls wrestling. No teaching credential, no teaching experience and just that he wrestled for the school team in the past. His father is a prominent chiropractor, and his mother is employed by the school system. That is the same school that failed me.
The rapes occurred only 2-3 years ago. Now two woman who were teens at the time have reported that they were abused and raped 18 times. The school has hired a law firm to do a complete investigation.
Even after 40-plus years, the same thing is happening to kids today that happened to me on the same premises.
It makes a grown man weep, because this is the same school system that when I went through five years of hell, some of it on school premises, not one intelligent, educated person ever asked, “What happened to you?” or simply asked “Why?” My grades dropped drastically after being raped by my perpetrator. Shouldn’t they have known to ask me? One day I found the courage to go and tell the school psychologist. I never made it into his office though, because my guidance counselor at the time saw me looking at college catalogs to pass the time and stated I needed to return to class and should not be looking at college catalogs because I wasn’t college material. He didn’t bother to ask why I was waiting to see the school psychologist.
My childhood friend who was also a victim of this man was found alone after smoking opium in his car and praying for God to take him away.
My perpetrator told me not to tell anyone. After that I would come home and go to my room and put on my headphones and listen to “Stairway to Heaven” and plan one of my four attempts to end my life.
What makes this recent trigger most difficult is after college, I spent over 30 years in Silicon Valley where my perpetrator followed me (in my mind); in 2013, I returned to my childhood home to take care of my elderly mom. It is across the street from where my perpetrator lived and where most of the hell happened. My childhood home is now my home. The house across the street has been sold multiple times and the current owners have no knowledge of my perpetrator. Yet, since the last time it happened I have not and will never step foot on that property.
When I look out, I see flowers growing in the window and the window now has sunlight going through it, a big difference from the room that was always dark for me.
When I arrived back home in 2014 from California, I was contacted by a local newspaper reporter who wanted to do a story on this topic, because it just happened to her son. They got my name from MaleSurvivor. She wrote a full story and published it and the floodgates were opened.
In 2012, I wrote the Superintendent of Schools a letter and let him know what happened on the premises. I also asked that the teachers’ manual be changed by deleting, “THE WAY YOU DETERMINE IF A CHILD HAS BEEN ABUSED IS THEY HAVE TROUBLE SITTING OR STANDING.” I never received an answer.
I then sent a copy of the letter to all the members of the Board of Education. The Chief of Police called me. I returned his call, and he set up a conference call with the Superintendent. In that conversation the Superintendent refused to make any changes to the manual and refused to do anything regarding abuse, and he stated it wasn’t a priority and other things take priority. I was stunned.
Getting involved in lobbying for passage of the Child Victims Act was a great way to focus the anger. During that time, I contacted the New York State Education Department and spoke with Renee Rider, Assistant Commissioner. There were laws in Chapter 106 of the 2016 laws which required schools to post the 800 Child Abuse Hotline number in all their schools and to all their teachers. Imagine when you bring it to the attention of this school district, they are not posted, and the responsibility was delegated to the school social worker. When she was contacted, she did not feel this was important and put them on the shelf in the teacher’s breakroom.
I then worked with MaleSurvivor and held a “Dare to Dream” evening at a nearby college to discuss the topic of male sexual abuse. We got a good crowd and the stories from parents and their dealing with the school were shocking. The greatest part of the evening was when the Chief of the Sheriff’s Office showed up and sat in the back row in full uniform. This is a person I admired as he was a year ahead of me, wasn’t harmed, and now had a wonderful family. He took me to the side and shook my hand and said that he was proud of me and what I was doing. He then stated that if I ever needed a ride to Albany to give him a call, he would personally drive me and escort me to any office I needed to get to. I went to the car and cried. Someone cared!
Yet, the greatest joy was being told that indeed the Child Victim’s Act had passed and sent a copy of the letter to everyone on the Board of Education and the Superintendent. I highlighted the fact that the school system could now be held liable and let them know I would be watching.
But, with this new story, the little boy in me wants to hide and wish I had my red bean bag chair again. I keep thinking about the MaleSurvivor Weekend of Recovery I attended in California. When I got triggered, I had to be taken off the floor and spent the next 45 minutes telling a therapist I wish my perpetrator would have killed me. The following morning at breakfast I told Dr. Fradkin and the therapist “Thank You,” because no one else had given me that much time to listen to me! That was progress.
This time the school responded by launching an immediate investigation, not thoughtless denials. I am angry and re-traumatized that child sex abuse victims were not protected by the school again, but this response was so much more appropriate that it does seem to me that there has been some progress. I hope this means fewer kids will be abused by this perpetrator. With the proper awareness and caring, they could have shortened the time I was abused, too.