Curtisâs Feeble Attempt at Self-Accountability
In the days following the exposé in The Philadelphia Inquirer of the sexual abuse of former student Lara St. John, the Curtis Institute offered two lackluster apologies to its alumni for mishandling the situation.
The first proclaimed, âWe sincerely regret not properly conveying today the weight of our commitment to these values,â followed by a list of bare minimums met by the current sexual-harassment policy, including âOrientation, constituent handbooks, and our annual Security and Fire Safety Report.â The second, written by Curtis president Roberto Diaz, included a promise that âwe will do whatever is needed to make this rightâ and a pledge to establish an anonymous reporting hotline.
All its alumni, that is, except Lara St. John herself. She stated in a follow-up piece by Peter Dobrin at The Philadelphia Inquirer that â[It] seems like they are apologizing to everybody but me. I find their statements really hollow... Itâs disappointing at best. I think the Curtis management would have contacted me if they were serious about their intent to handle this properly.â
Supporters of St. John expressed similar views on the attempts the Curtis Institute made to hold itself and its staff accountable for how St. John was treated after reporting the assault committed against her by her former teacher, the late Jascha Brodsky.
Megan DeJarnett, a composer, trumpet player, and advocate for sexual assault survivors, published a post on her blog last week about her thoughts on how the Curtis Institute mishandled the situation. She also offered solutions as to what Curtis could do to rectify the matter and to protect its students in the future.
Unless the hotline and its administrators are held to stringent ethical standards, Curtis could use the information they receive to not only understand how many assaults theyâve covered up (which is useful) but use linguistics, phone numbers, and other available data to determine the likelihood of being held accountable in court by someone whoâs still able to bring a suit against them (which defeats the purpose of an anonymous hotline). They could cross-reference the allegations they receive with communication records and justify a continued dismissal of a case with a simple âwe already looked into this, remember?â
If this hotline is going to have a truly positive effect on the student body and alumni network, Curtis needs to be ultra-transparent as they set it up. We need to know who is administering the hotline (spoiler: it should be a third party consultant with a comprehensive understanding of the ways in which music education can leave students particularly vulnerable to sexual abuse). We need to know how this hotline will interface with Title IX guidelines while maintaining the anonymity theyâre promising. We need to know who at Curtis will have access to what amount of data from the hotline and how theyâre going to use that information. We need to know that no part of using the hotline will be construed as tacit consent to an NDA or any other agreement that would limit an individualâs ability to speak publicly on the matter should they wish to. We need to know whether or not any of the data received could be mandatory-reported without a victimâs knowledge...
Similar opinions were voiced by Bronwyn Banerdt, a cellist in the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and a 2008 graduate of the Curtis Institute of Music.
While handbooks and hotlines are certainly good starting points, these are not sufficient indications of an institution on the leading edge of creating a culture of safety, transparency, and honest dialogue around these painful issues. The values of excellence and leadership are fundamental to the Curtis philosophy, and these are sorely missing from its response to this crisis.
The antidote to this plague is to speak freely and to be heard. No organization is immune to the cultural poison of assault and abuse, but the answer is never to sweep the dirt under the rug. Curtis should indeed reach out to alumni and students â but instead of asking for their silence and then doling out apologies, it should ask for the truth. If the giants of the classical music world who trained generations of the worldâs finest artists committed unthinkable acts, then that uncomfortable truth must coexist alongside their musical legacies.
It is unclear how the Curtis Institute will proceed from here, but one can only hope that its staff recognizes the severity of their errors and rectify them in a way that provides support for the victims who were subject to sexual assault within the Instituteâs walls.















