Sex cult survivors accuse Sarah Lawrence of negligence: ‘They failed us’

For years, Sarah Lawrence College has promoted itself as an experimental and progressive haven, a verdant enclave where students design curricula and believe in what its president has called “the underlying goodness of others.”

“You are different. So are we” was a slogan the school used. Some students saw it as a statement that they would be understood and valued.

Now former students are accusing the college of betraying them by allowing a 50-year-old ex-con to roam the Westchester County campus; spending nights in a dormitory where his daughter lived; and entering into relationships with students whom he then abused.

That man, Lawrence V. Ray, was convicted of racketeering, sex trafficking and racketeering in 2022 after a trial in Manhattan. Federal prosecutors said he used the tactics of cult leaders for a decade as he indoctrinated and exploited young people.

Four roommates of his daughter, Talia Ray, fell under Mr. Ray’s control. One, Isabella Pollok, became his “trusted lieutenant,” prosecutors said, and was sentenced to prison. Now the other three say in legal documents and interviews that the school bears responsibility for their suffering.

Claudia Drury, who testified at Mr. Ray’s trial that he forced her into prostitution, said she spoke out to hold Sarah Lawrence administrators accountable after students were exposed to a figure who, she once wrote, delighted in ‘psychological, physical, spiritual and spiritual problems’. sexual abuse.”

“They have let us down so badly,” Ms Drury said. “There was a predator living in our dorm and they did nothing.”

Two former students, Daniel Levin and Santos Rosario, filed a lawsuit in Federal District Court in Manhattan on Nov. 21, seeking unspecified damages and saying Mr. Ray had emotionally, physically and sexually abused them. They allege the school was negligent and violated a federal law designed to combat human trafficking.

Sarah Lawrence has long said she had no knowledge of Mr. Ray’s activities. In a statement after the charges were filed, the school said Mr Ray “committed heinous crimes for which he has been rightly held responsible, convicted and sentenced,” adding that the college had deep sympathy for his victims and hoped his sentencing would take place. had brought them a solution.

“We will not comment on any aspect of this lawsuit other than to say that we believe the facts will tell a different story than the unproven allegations in the filed complaint,” the council said.

One of the enduring mysteries of the Ray case is how a man with a criminal past could escape meaningful investigation while spending nights on campus among students less than half his age.

Abigail Boyer, deputy director of the Clery Center, a nonprofit organization dedicated to creating safer campuses, said most schools strive to balance students’ budding independence with the desire to maintain a safe environment. School authorities’ responsibility for what happens on campus is often determined by what they know, she added.

“Who knew and what did they know?” said Mrs. Boyer. “What type of information was shared?”

In 2010, Mr. Ray spent nights in a dorm called Slonim Woods 9 after serving time in jail in New Jersey on child custody charges. Over time, he studied cults and mind control, isolated his victims – including young people who did not attend Sarah Lawrence – from their parents and intimidated them with threats and attacks. Several former followers testified that Mr. Ray coerced them into false confessions that they had hurt him, and two said he ordered them to have sex with strangers. Ms. Drury testified that she transferred $2.5 million in prostitution proceeds to Mr. Ray.

Mr Ray was then charged in 2020 a story from 2019 his predations were described in New York magazine. He was sentenced last year to six decades in prison.

Cristle Collins Judd, the president of Sarah Lawrence, wrote in 2020 that Mr. Ray’s indictment raised “serious and troubling questions,” including “what interventions might have been possible.” Mr. Ray had remained at Slonim Woods 9 “in clear violation of the university’s written policy,” she wrote in a message on the school website.

More than 85 percent of Sarah Lawrence’s 1,700 students live at the school, where annual tuition is $63,128. Student organizations include a group that helps animal shelters, a literary magazine called Love & Squalor and a Shakespeare company made up of women and non-binary students. The college prioritizes small class sizes and instead of taking traditional majors, students create programs of study with the help of advisors called “dons.”

The dormitory where Mr. Ray showed up is in a cluster of two-story brick buildings on the edge of Sarah Lawrence’s 44-acre campus. Each of Slonim Woods’ 11 buildings has its own entrance – a feature that Ms Judd suggested could have helped Mr Ray hide.

“No reports were filed regarding this parent’s presence on campus during that semester, formal or informal, by students who shared that small living space, by their student neighbors, or by anyone else,” she wrote in her 2020 post.

But Mr. Levin and Mr. Rosario’s lawsuit states that several unnamed “students, community members and parents” had contacted university officials to complain about Mr. Ray’s behavior.

Despite signs that “something was wrong,” Sarah Lawrence failed to intervene or even notice, the lawsuit said.

Ms. Drury’s mother, Christian Drury, said she spoke to Allen Green, then Sarah Lawrence’s dean of studies and student life, after hearing from her daughter that Mr. Ray was spending nights in the dorm and appeared to have begun a study. sexual relationship with one student.

“The whole thing really scared me,” Ms. Drury said in a telephone interview. “He tried to turn his group into a small sect.”

She said she asked for Mr. Ray to be banned from the dormitory, but Mr. Green responded that there was little he could do because Mr. Ray had a right to see his daughter.

Mr Green, who is retired, referred questions about Mr Ray to Sarah Lawrence. He did not respond to email and phone messages detailing Ms Drury’s story.

Claudia Drury testified at Mr. Ray’s trial that she complained to a philosophy professor, Nancy Baker, about Mr. Ray in 2010, saying he was sleeping in Ms. Pollok’s room.

Ms. Baker, an emeritus faculty member, said in an interview that Ms. Drury had expressed only vague concerns about Ms. Pollok.

“She didn’t tell me there was a man sleeping in Isabella’s room,” Mrs. Baker said. “Absolutely not.”

Ms. Drury also testified that in 2011, Mr. Ray forced her to send an email that she likened to “a hostage letter” to Ms. Baker and Mr. Green. According to a copy provided by Ms. Drury, she denied the statements she claimed she made, saying Mr. Ray was “an evil, dangerous, manipulative and sexually deviant man.”

She also wrote that Mr. Ray had been “wrongfully imprisoned,” that his ex-wife had persuaded her to lie about him and that she had made false accusations about him to police officers.

Although Mr. Green spoke to her briefly, Ms. Drury said, the references to sexual conduct and manipulation, combined with her zealous defense of Mr. Ray and talk of an elaborate conspiracy, should have prompted a thorough investigation.

Mr. Ray was no longer on campus at the time, but an intervention still could have prevented students from being abused, Ms. Drury said, adding, “For me, it wouldn’t have been too late.”

In her 2020 message, Ms. Judd wrote that “colleges cannot and will not act in loco parentis,” tightly regulating student behavior, as many schools once did. She also noted that Mr. Ray’s crimes occurred after he stopped living in Sarah Lawrence.

But, Ms Drury said, these crimes only became possible because Mr Ray had lived at 9 Slonim Woods for months, in breach of existing rules. Mr. Levin and Mr. Rosario said in their lawsuit that Mr. Ray subjected them to manipulation, sexual abuse, food deprivation and sleep deprivation in the dormitory.

Mr. Ray cooked dinners there, discussed philosophy and regaled students with fantastic, sometimes paranoid stories about his life. His presence was hardly clandestine, former students said. On one occasion, Ms. Drury said, Mr. Ray burned a steak, setting off a smoke alarm that brought firefighters and school security. And, she said, he walked openly on campus.

“Don’t sneak,” said Mrs. Drury. “No attempt to hide the fact that I could see.”

Another former student, Gabriel Chazanov, who lived in Slonim Woods 9 but did not fall under Mr. Ray’s influence, said university officials once told Talia Ray that her cat, Tiger, was living in the dormitory against the rules.

“If they pay enough attention to kick a cat out,” Mr. Chazanov said. “You’d think they’d notice the strange guy staying there too.”