The ripples of institutional betrayal

As psychologists who research sexual violence, we know that seemingly still waters may be hiding undercurrents of abuse.

So we were not shocked to read the news report that at least 12 former teachers at wellrespected Choate Rosemary Hall had allegedly sexually abused students, even as the school upheld its prestigious outward appearances.

Increasingly, public awareness is catching up to the reality that institutions may harbor secrets of abuse: the allegations emerging from Choate Rosemary Hall resemble what has occurred at many other venerated institutions in New England, as Boston Globe’s Spotlight team and the New York Times reported.

We also know that for the victims, their families, and the communities of students, parents, teachers, and alumni of Choate Rosemary Hall this alleged abuse represents a profound violation. When institutions tasked with keeping children safe and helping them grow instead expose them to abuse, it is institutional betrayal. When abuse is reported, institutions are given a chance to restore safety.

All too often institutions prioritize maintaining appearances of safety over actual safety, choosing to push knowledge of abuse and institutional complicity deep below the surface. This, again, is institutional betrayal.

It is this betrayal that makes the violation of abuse ripple so far outward from the victims who are personally harmed to the communities that shared their trust in an institution.

In this case, those ripples have rocked one of our hometowns: Litchfield, Connecticut. Jaime Rivera-Murillo, one of the alleged sexual perpetrators, was the principal at Wamogo Regional High School up until one week before Boston Globe’s story broke. Revelations of his involvement in these allegations understandably provoked outrage and fear in the Wamogo community – outrage that their trust in Wamogo may have been misplaced, fear that their children may have been harmed in the very place where they were meant to be protected.

What we urge Wamogo Regional High School to do at this moment is to recognize the opportunity to act with courage: be a beacon of transparency, even if it means further rocking the boat. You are offering counseling to your students, teachers and staff, which is excellent. But don’t stop there. Interact with your community: hear their concerns and stay open to their feedback about how you can steady their shaken trust. Publicize your efforts to investigate the impact of Rivera-Murillo’s leadership and share your findings. This is how you repair the harm of institutional betrayal.

To the community, understand that, should the administrators have been aware of these allegations and had any reason to suspect they may have been true, the very act of hiring Rivera-Murillo was an act of institutional betrayal. If you feel outraged and hurt, that is understandable, and seeking answers is justified. We write this article with the hopes that it will be helpful to the Wamogo community to name and understand their experience. As individuals, our trust in or dependency upon institutions may feel like a source of vulnerability. Yet, we all have the ability to shape our institutions by calling out betrayal and celebrating their acts of courage. Kristen Reinhardt, a doctoral student at the University of Oregon, is a former Litchfield resident and Litchfield High School graduate. Carly Smith is with the Penn State College of Medicine.

Editor’s note: This story has been updated to correct the spelling of one author’s name and another author’s affiliation