SJSU hit with a class-action lawsuit
The consequences of the sex scandal involving San Jose State University's former head athletic trainer grew greater this week after a class-action lawsuit accused the university of “ignoring clear signs” that young female athletes were being molested.
The university already had agreed to pay upward of $5 million to about two dozen known victims of Scott Shaw, who left the university in 2020 and now is facing federal criminal charges of sexual misconduct.
The class-action case expands the pool of potential victims to any SJSU student who might have been victimized by Shaw since his arrival on campus in 2006.
“There could be over 1,000 women out there who were subjected to Shaw's abuse,” said Palo Alto lawyer Shounak Dharap, who also represents 15 victims of Shaw who won a $3.3 million settlement with the university. “Class actions are a really powerful way to hold institutions accountable, not just to the one or two or 15 people who are filing the lawsuit but to the hundreds or even thousands who may not want to or may not be able to pursue their own cases, but they still deserve justice.”
The scandal caused the downfall of school President
Mary Papazian and Athletic Director Marie Tuite, who both resigned late last year over mishandling of the allegations against Shaw. Shaw, 54, has been arraigned on six federal civil rights charges of sexually assaulting four women from 2017 to 2020 under the guise of treatment. The five-year statute of limitations prevents charging him with older crimes, according to the FBI. Shaw has denied the allegations. He could face six years in prison if convicted.
Despite warning signs that Shaw was a danger to students, the lawsuit says, SJSU and its trustees “turned their back on the well-being of the young students in their care,” all in an effort to “preserve the institution's prestige and prevent scandal from ripping through their sport program.”
The lawsuit was filed Friday in Santa Clara County Superior Court. Dharap's law firm joined with the Los Angeles firm of John Manley, who helped secure a $500 million settlement with Michigan State University in 2018 over allegations it ignored complaints from Olympic gymnasts about university physician Larry Nassar, who sexually abused them during treatment sessions. It was the largest-ever settlement against a university involving sexual assault allegations.
At San Jose State, more than a dozen members of the women's swim team first came forward in 2009, accusing Shaw of touching them inappropriately under their bras and underwear during treatment sessions. The university conducted an inhouse investigation that cleared Shaw in 2010, finding his sports massages that touched the women's private areas were “bona fide” treatment. Shaw was allowed to continue treating female athletes, largely unfettered, until he left the university in 2020, after yet another alleged victim came forward.
Swim coach Sage Hopkins, a whistleblower who kept up a decadelong crusade to protect the athletes, has said he was inspired by the Michigan State scandal to finally take his long-ignored concerns outside the university to the National Collegiate Athletic Association. Only then did Papazian — who first learned of the allegations when she arrived at the university in 2016 — order a new investigation, which determined that Shaw had abused the women.
Even that renewed investigation, however, was deeply flawed, according to the U.S. Department of Justice, which last fall ordered the university to pay a total of $1.6 million to about two dozen identified victims. The DOJ also ordered the university to reach out to more than 1,000 female athletes who were treated by Shaw over his 14-year tenure to determine if others were abused.
If a monetary verdict is reached or the university settles the class-action lawsuit, victims then can step forward confidentially to make a claim, Dharap said.
“The question is, has San Jose State truly been held accountable?” Dharap asked. “The class action is a means to find that out and to ensure that all those folks do get justice.”
had I been White, I would be much more recognized, appreciated and welcomed in such spaces.
I am an assistant professor of public health at San Jose State University.
I have two decades of experience in industry and academia, having initially trained as a chemical engineer and technologist prior to pursuing a master's degree and then a doctorate in epidemiology. As an epidemiologist, I have been called upon by various Bay Area media outlets to discuss topics related to the pandemic. Yet, a colleague recently responded by saying, “I love seeing Marcelle on the news, but why don't we hear more from (insert the name of a White colleague.) There was no acknowledgement of the scholarly contributions I have made, including the fact that I have earned substantial funding to study the effects of the coronavirus pandemic on marginalized populations, nor the peer-reviewed publications I have in this area of study. I continue to contribute to this space on a local and national level, having had commentaries published in Local News Matters Bay Area and Newsweek. Yet, this colleague felt comfortable questioning my suitability in a very public way.
With campus parking at a premium, I find myself getting into arguments with parking attendants who do not think I belong in the faculty parking area. Once, after repeatedly trying to wave me off the faculty parking area and explaining to him that I was a faculty member, the attendant remarked, “Then, you should put an employee parking sticker on your car.” I responded by pointing to the sticker on my car. I bet he could not see past the color of my skin.
My children attend a private school in the Bay Area,
Supreme Court nominee Ketanji Brown Jackson testifies during her Senate Judiciary Committee confirmation hearing on Capitol Hill in Washington on March 22.
which prides itself on its anti-racist values. Parents are friendly. However, there are always regular reminders from many that they too struggle to believe I belong. One morning during a school assembly, a wellmeaning parent came up to me and asked, “So what do you teach here?” The subtext was clear: There is no way you would be in this space unless you're a teacher. You can't possibly be a parent like myself.
A few years ago, I was invited to serve on the board of a nonprofit foundation. On my way to meet with the chief executive of the organization, I asked someone (a White man) for directions to the building. Immediately, he wanted to know who I was meeting. When I told him, his eyes widened. He blurted, “Is he expecting you?” The subtext wasn't lost on me. I could go on and on.
As Judge Jackson reminds us, Black women are here, they have been here, they have a lot to say, and they belong wherever they choose to be, including in the highest offices in the land.
America, you better recognize.
Marcelle Dougan is an assistant professor of public health at San Jose State University and a fellow with the Public Voices Op Ed Project.