On the second day of class this year, the University of Florida fired its deputy Title IX coordinator amid complaints that he had too much power over resolving sex-assault cases.
Then, this month, Baylor University’s Title IX coordinator resigned, charging the institution with refusing to give her enough authority.
The claims — that one Title IX officer had too much power, while another didn’t have what she needed — highlight the pitfalls and pressures for those in a high-profile job at the center of one of higher-education’s most vexing issues: campus sexual assault.
This is a natural consequence of being in the middle of a high-stress, high-consequence, high-impact issue.
Title IX officers face criticism and questions from all directions — students, parents, lawmakers, board members, and fellow administrators. The officers are responsible for considering allegations of sexual misconduct and overseeing their universities’ procedures to determine whether the accused is responsible, all under the glare of increasing federal and public attention.
Sometimes the decisions Title IX administrators make may harm their own universities’ reputations. They complain of being both ignored by senior administrators and made the scapegoat for unpopular decisions. All the while, they are on the line for complying with a growing and complicated set of federal guidelines in trying to resolve sexual-misconduct claims.
“This is a natural consequence,” one official who works with Title IX officers says of the two departures, “of being in the middle of a high-stress, high-consequence, high-impact issue.”
Chris Loschiavo, the Title IX officer removed from Florida, had made a career as a student-conduct administrator, working at the University of Florida for nine years and at the University of Oregon for seven years before that. He’s also a consultant with the National Center for Higher Education Risk Management — a legal group that helps universities handle sex-assault complaints.
The Chronicle was not able to contact Mr. Loschiavo, and the University of Florida refused to comment, other than to say it didn’t renew his contract as of August 23. But The Gainesville Sun, a local newspaper, reported that Mr. Loschiavo was let go after lawyers for Antonio Callaway, a football player who had been accused of sexual assault, complained that Mr. Loschiavo held too much power. The university, the newspaper said, removed Mr. Loschiavo from the case, determined Mr. Callaway was not responsible for sexual misconduct, and then fired Mr. Loschiavo.
At Baylor, Patty Crawford went on national television earlier this month, saying she had stepped down as Title IX coordinator after the university tried to bypass her in adopting a slew of reforms.
The move came after an outside investigation found actions had been “wholly inadequate” in handling allegations of sex assault. Baylor has been struggling for months with criticism over how it dealt with sexual misconduct, leading to the resignation of its president, Kenneth W. Starr.
Rogge Dunn, Ms. Crawford’s lawyer, said Ms. Crawford had been pushing for reforms since taking over as Title IX coordinator at Baylor two years ago. But the university “didn’t want to hear it.” He added: “They didn’t want to give her the funding and authority she needed.” When Ms. Crawford complained, says Mr. Dunn, the university retaliated by cutting her out of the loop.
In a statement to The Chronicle, Baylor pointed out that Ms. Crawford had praised the university’s Title IX efforts publicly several times before her departure, and that she had requested a $1-million settlement from the university plus book rights, something the institution said it found “troubling.”
‘A Lot of Emotion’
Beyond the departures at Florida and Baylor, other universities have struggled to maintain consistency in the role of Title IX officer. Turnover in the position has raised concerns, for example, at Dartmouth and Kenyon Colleges and at the University of Arkansas in the last couple of years.
The conflict and stress packed into the job of Title IX administrator is a natural byproduct of dealing with such a high-stakes issue.
After all, the Title IX officer’s chief role is working with people in crisis: students who have reported being assaulted and those who stand accused. Students accused of sexual misconduct routinely face suspension or expulsion. “There is a lot of emotion there,” says Howard Kallem, Title IX coordinator at Duke University. “There’s a lot riding on the outcome of the process.”
Given this, it’s not unusual for Title IX officers to feel pressure from people within their institutions who want to influence a case.
“When you have a caring and passionate person in student affairs or athletics who would like the rules to shift a little for the accused, or for a beloved faculty member, they may ask, they may cajole, they may put pressure,” says Jody Shipper, who served as director of compliance for the University of California system after being the Title IX coordinator at the University of Southern California.
In such moments, a Title IX officer is in the delicate role of trying to explain to other administrators why neutrality is important and why outside influence isn’t allowed in sex-assault investigations.
“By necessity you are at odds with others on your campus,” says Ms. Shipper, who is starting a nonprofit called Project IX to help small colleges handle sex-assault complaints. “You have to hold all of these people accountable for this process, and they have to follow it and can’t deviate from it. It can be inconvenient for them.”
Sometimes, says Ms. Shipper, other administrators may “opine publicly on a case or to a student involved, saying, ‘I can’t believe that Title IX officer did that.’” That kind of talk, she says, is a litigation risk. And it’s frequently the Title IX officer’s role to call out the administrator responsible. “This is the human cost,” says Ms. Shipper, “of trying to be your campus’s moral compass.”
Brett A. Sokolow, a lawyer who assists dozens of colleges in handling sex-assault cases and is president of the National Center for Higher Education Risk Management, says he frequently hears from Title IX coordinators facing difficult choices. “I received a call yesterday from a coordinator who was specifically instructed not to investigate a student-athlete, despite his insistence on doing so,” says Mr. Sokolow. “I have another coordinator who needs to investigate her president, but knows she’ll be terminated if she does. Does she risk her job and financial security to do her job right and uphold the law?”
Making unpopular decisions — even decisions that harm your own institution’s reputation — are a common outcome, says Julian R. Williams, vice president of compliance, diversity, and ethics at George Mason University. “If you are doing your job effectively,” he says, “it may not always make the institution look very good.”
That’s why Title IX coordinators say they need unflagging support from top administrators. But that support isn’t always there. Title IX officers can be left out of the decision-making process on a case or find other administrators trying to take over tasks that belong with the Title IX office. “And yet, you’re the one whose butt is on the line,” says Peter F. Lake, director of the Center for Excellence in Higher Education Law and Policy at Stetson University College of Law.
Mr. Lake, who served as interim Title IX coordinator at Stetson last year, says he doesn’t know what happened in the case of the administrators at Florida or Baylor. But he says among Title IX officers there’s a school of thought that they are the ones hired to be the fall guys. “And then when something goes wrong,” he says, “you let them go and point the finger at them, which deflects from deeper issues.”
Robin Wilson writes about campus culture, including sexual assault and sexual harassment. Contact her at robin.wilson@chronicle.com.
