
A system doesn’t have to be perfect for it to be valuable.
That’s something I’ve come to learn after 14+ years of engaging with the U.S. Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights (OCR). And that’s why VRLC, along with two other families, are fighting to protect it.
Years ago, a newly 13-year-old and her mom walked into VRLC’s downtown Boston office armed with school records, pages of handwritten notes, and printed social media posts filled with sexually explicit and harassing messages. Over the next two hours I learned about the daily harassment this middle schooler endured after intimate images of her were shared across her school district by a trusted adult.
In cases like this, students and their families turn to school administrators – concerned for the student’s physical and mental safety. They expect a robust and immediate response, but what they often find is that districts lack the training and resources needed to do that. Administrators often feel limited in their ability to address sexual assault and harassment, especially when it happens online, encourage students to instead report to law enforcement, and even blame victims for the harassment they’re enduring.
That’s what happened in this case. Not only did the sexual harassment continue but it became more extreme. The student and her family felt desperate. I did too. How could the school expect her to show up and learn every day, when she couldn’t even walk the halls safely? At one point, someone even threw food at her in the cafeteria.
After exhausting every reporting option imaginable within the district, we turned to Boston’s regional Office for Civil Rights for help. OCR opened an investigation. Investigators listened. They gathered records. They interviewed school administrators. All the while, the student’s school attendance was low, her grades were barely passing, and her mental health was rapidly declining.
Did the process feel as quick as we’d hope? No. Our systems are rarely as responsive as we need them to be. Ultimately though, with the help of OCR, she secured a spot at a different school. On the first day, the student’s mom sent me a photo. She looked as weary as I felt. But years later, the student’s mom sent me a second photo of her daughter – nearly unrecognizable in a cap and gown – beaming.
OCR made that possible.
For this student, and so many others, OCR was the difference between dropping out and graduating. OCR has long been plagued with a backlog of cases and slow response times, but that’s evidence that it is a critical resource for students and their families. There is no filing fee, no complicated pleadings and motions, and no requirement to have legal counsel – making it more accessible to students and their families.
That’s why VRLC, represented by Public Justice and Glenn Agre Bergman & Fuentes, filed a lawsuit in response to the decimation of OCR and why we’re fighting so hard to protect it. Because behind every OCR case number is a student struggling in school. Because for many student-survivors it is their only hope.
Amanda Walsh (she/her) joined VRLC in 2011 because it was one of the few organizations working on Title IX issues at the time. Since then, she’s walked alongside hundreds of K-12 and higher ed students and their families as they try to stabilize their education in the aftermath of a sexual assault.