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                    Explosion

Move-in day was complete, Welcome Week had gone swimmingly, and the new academic year – 2015-16-- loomed just ahead, filled with promise.  Then came the explosion.  A closely-watched rape trial was underway at the McLennan County courthouse, a magnificent structure symbolizing the community-unifying goal of justice.  Justice for all. Sam Ukwuachu, a super-talented defensive end on Baylor’s football team who had transferred from football powerhouse Boise State, was in the dock, charged with an egregious offense against basic human dignity.  Sam’s rape trial launched a crisis. Suddenly, for all the wrong reasons, Baylor football was thrust into the national limelight.

Explosion I

Triggering the unexpected explosion was a provocative on-line piece by the wildly popular home-grown periodical, Texas Monthly.  Based in Austin, and unremittingly progressive in tone, TM published a harshly-critical on-line piece just as pre-season was drawing to a close.  The muck-raking on-line attack claimed that, in effect, a rape culture had grown up in the fabulously successful football program under the turbo-charged leadership of Coach Art Briles.  This was the first anyone around the Executive Council roundtable had heard anything of the sort.

A terrible pall fell over the conference room in Pat Neff 100.  Just hours before, we had all been exulting in the excitement of a new year.  Football was an integral part of what would soon unfold that autumn.  After all, in a few short years, Coach Briles had built a national powerhouse on the banks of the Brazos.  And his dream (described in Chapter 1) of an on-campus stadium had come true.  The House that RG III built was, in fact, the House that Art Briles and Drayton McLaneean, Jr. built.  Coach Briles was the inspiration, and Drayton – the dreamer of great dreams – was the driving force.

Coach and Drayton were joined by a cracker-jack in-house Development team, augmented by members of the Board of Regents, especially former Regent Chair Dary Stone.  The staff and Regent volunteers poured themselves into the unprecedented fundraising effort.  They had triumphed.  And Year One at McLaneean had gone beautifully, marred only by injuries to two key quarterbacks.  Even then, the 2014 season had ended with a record-shattering offensive display in Orlando as the Baylor Bears overwhelmed the Tar Heels of North Carolina with a high-speed “Wildcat” offense (no quarterback).

For his part, Coach Briles had quickly built an eye-popping football program that matched the stunningly impressive stadium, which in short order became a gathering place for the broader community, not just the Baylor family.  Indeed, at Coach Briles’ urging, the very first game played at McLaneean Stadium was not a Baylor Bears high-octane display of razzle-dazzle offense, but a high-school match-up straight out of Friday night lights.  Baylor was making a statement – McLaneean Stadium is for all of us, not just for Baylor Nation on college game day.

As I mentioned in a previous chapter, “Field of Dreams” brought into popular culture an abiding idea – if you build it, they will come.   Unlike a Midwestern corn field turned into a ghostly baseball diamond summoning forth spirits from bygone days, McLaneean Stadium – which at Coach Briles’ insistence was renamed (prior to opening) to carry the McLean family name rather than the institutionalized, plain-vanilla “Baylor Stadium” – brought tens of thousands of fans and friends to the banks of the Brazos.  Season ticket sales skyrocketed.  Games were now sold out.  At the aging Floyd Casey Stadium, albeit home to great memories over a half century, we worked hard to fill the seats.  The occasional sell-out would occur when, say, the Longhorns came to Waco and eagerly bought up the thousands of unwanted tickets.  That was then.  Now, ESPN regularly brought “Game Day” to campus, and the prevailing colors were the beautiful gold of the Baylor Line, with shades of Baylor green sprinkled in.  The optics were even better than at green-and-gold dominated Lambeau Field in Green Bay.

And so Sam Ukwuachu came.  He had traveled way north from Houston, where he had done well enough academically in high school but whose strength and speed attracted the attention of gridiron programs across the country.  He chose national powerhouse Boise State, but he was soon unhappy and homesick.  His head football coach looked after him, thought he should be closer to home, called Coach Briles, and soon Sam was a Baylor Bear, although he never played football at Baylor.  When Sam was charged with the unspeakably horrible act of rape, he protested his innocence and defended himself vigorously.  Devastating testimony by a former girlfriend from Boise State – who contradicted Sam’s testimony of non-violence – likely sealed his fate.  The McLennan County jury found him guilty, but then fashioned an oddly lenient sentence – probation.  As I write, Sam continues to protest his innocence, and to seek redress in the courts.  But the jury verdict stands, and Sam is thus a convicted felon.


Explosion II

Even in the best of programs horrible deeds are done.  We are a fallen race.  Even young men from “good families” succumb to temptation and allow themselves to enter the darkest of dark domains.  The nationally-debated case of the Stanford swimmer, convicted of rape but given a lenient sentence, once again brought into sharp focus the problem of interpersonal violence on and around college campuses, and in particular, sexual assault.  National statistics were frequently reported to the effect that 1 in 5 young women are sexually assaulted (or are otherwise victims of interpersonal violence) during their college years.  Sam’s case provided the jumping off point for Texas Monthly’s provocative thesis that with all of its vaunted success, Coach Briles’ program was infected by a culture of violence against women.

We rolled into action.  A crisis management team was set up, the Board of Regents promptly informed (first through the leadership), and an initial recommendation made.  Specifically, I commissioned Baylor’s Faculty Athletic Representative (a post required under NCAA procedures) to conduct an internal inquiry into the charges.  By design, the “FAR” operates outside of and independent of the Athletic Department.  Serving in a watchdog capacity, a form of “check and balance,” the FAR reports directly to the president.  Respected law professor Jeremy Counsellor took on the role, and within several days, reported back – in a one-page summary that contained only the background of his appointment and his solitary recommendation – that an outside investigation should be conducted.  That is, no one inside or connected to the university should be retained to provide a truly independent, honest assessment of the situation.

So it was that Pepper Hamilton, a respected Philadelphia law firm, was retained.  Their work began in early September 2015, and came to conclusion in May 2016.  To assure the independence of its work, the Pepper Hamilton lawyers reported directly to a special three-person committee of Baylor’s Board of Regents.  That structure remained in place throughout the lengthy process, culminating in a verbal report – with numerous power point slides – to the Board of Regents in mid-May 2016.  The final work product was two-fold:  a set of findings of fact, reported by the Board of Regents, and a lengthy set of recommendations from the law firm.  There was no “report” in the traditional sense.  The Board’s findings and Pepper Hamilton’s recommendations were publicly released, leading to events that I describe in the next chapter.

The findings were deeply troubling.  Moral outrage was the order of the day, throughout the country.  This was page one, above-the-fold news.  Searing criticism unfolded, not simply of the football program but overall the University’s stewardship with respect to interpersonal violence (including sexual assault) was found wanting.  The criticisms were directed atincluded what I call “first responders,” including campus law enforcement, health services and counseling.  Pepper Hamilton’s findings were summarized as a “fundamental failure” on the part of the University.  This quickly became the prevailing narrative.  The narrative was reinforced by additional victims coming forward – some of whom had graduated – about their tragic experiences.  These were chronicled in dramatic ways by ESPN’s go-for-the-jugular program, “Outside the Lines.”  Baylor – not just the football program – became a pariah.

Victims’ stories moved the thoughtful observer or listener to a powerful combination of empathy and outrage.  One’s heart goes out to the victim; a second later, waves of outrage wash over the empathetic observer.  How could this have happened?  Who fell asleep at the switch?  Who failed to protect these young women, and why?  Did coaches turn a blind eye to reports of unconscionable acts by superstar players – or even non-superstars who abused (or worse) young women?.  Did “first responders” on the University’s payroll turn a deaf ear to distraught complaints of sexual violence, including rape?  How could this be, especially at a self-professed Christian university?

I made it clear that as chief executive, I accepted responsibility for any shortcomings or failings on the University’s part.  No act of sexual violence can be tolerated, period, even off-campus (which is where all the serious incidents, as reported, took place).  And no one, regardless of how important the student-athlete was to program success, was to be above the law.  Basic decency, reinforced by the Christian commitment to creating a caring community, called for the gold standard with respect to prevention in the first place, and effective response if prevention safeguards failed.

Explosion III

As the old saying goes, “there are usually two sides to the story.”  Pepper Hamilton’s recommendations, coupled with the Board of Regents’ “findings of fact,” created a toxic killer of a narrative.  The devastating conclusion – a fundamental failure of the institution itself– echoed throughout campus and demoralized Baylor Nation.  An operational failure of the highest order had been identified, with profound impacts on victims and their families.

The “other side of the story” was left untold.  Campus safety – and the safety of our students in all respects, including freedom from interpersonal violence – was a high priority throughout my years of servant-leadership.  The idea that Pat Neff Hall was oblivious to student-safety concerns was belied not only by common sense and basic human decency, but refuted by the facts.

Here, in brief, is the other side of the story.  Indeed, iIn the fall of 2010, the EC round table focused specifically on issues of student safety arising out of a Department of Education (Office of Civil Rights) investigation into a tragic student death at Eastern Michigan University.  OCR’s compliance review (under Title IX) was prompted by an on-campus student -death.  A 22-year old student at EMU was found dead in her residence hall after having been sexually assaulted and brutally beaten.  The government’s devastating report issued in November 2010.    The EC promptly determined to establish a Baylor Student Safety Concern Task Force to examine all issues relating to student safety, including but by no means limited to interpersonal violence.

The Task Force had an outstanding group of members.  Five student leaders, including Michael Wright (student body president) joined with the then-Chief of Police, Jim Doak, and EC member Kevin Jackson (Vice President for Student Life), and other key staff members to begin their work early in the new semester (January 2011).  The Task Force held on-campus hearings.  Broad participation was invited.

In the meantime, additional voices were raised across the nation.  As the Baylor Task Force was operating at full speed, 16 Yale students filed a complaint with respect to the campus climate prevailing “under the elms” of New Haven.  One particularly disturbing incident included a ribald Yale fraternity chant:  “No means yes.”  The brothers’ outrageous chant then went a perverse step further in descending into the realm of raucous indignity.

In April 2011, OCR published its first “Dear Colleague” letter with respect to responsibilities under Title IX.  In contrast to common (mis)understanding, the letter did not embody or reflect law.  It was not law in any sense of the word.  It was not reporting on an act of Congress, nor was it setting forth an administrative regulation enjoying the force of law.  It was a letter – providing guidance, not the direction that law enjoys.  Nor did that guidance call for the appointment of a full-time Title IX coordinator.   To the contrary, that administrative step was more than three years away.

Three days after OCR’s “Dear Colleague” letter appeared, a public panel discussion took place on the Baylor campus.  In addition to myself, Vice President Jackson and Student Body President Wright discussed a wide range of student-safety issues, and took questions from the floor.  This on-campus conversation was illustrative of what was underway around the nation.  Everyone was aware of myriad concerns about student safety, including freedom from interpersonal violence.  No one had his or her head in the sand, nor averted his or her gaze to avoid facing unpleasantness – or worse.

The work of the Campus Task Force was completed, and in the fall of 2012, a Campus Safety Committee was formed.  The Safety Committee pulled together stakeholders from all across campus to discuss any and all threats to student safety.  Issues relating to sexual assault were an integral part of the broad mandate the Committee examined.

For its first three years, the Campus Safety Committee was chaired by Vice President Jackson.  Its work enjoyed the unalloyed support of the entire Executive Council.  Then, in the following June (2013), I personally issued a memorandum creating a specialized Task Force Review of Sexual Violence to conduct a comprehensive review of Baylor’s policies and practices relating to sexual violence.  This Task Force (operating at the same time as the Campus Safety Committee) was formed in response to the recommendations and concerns expressed by John Whelan, then the head of Human Resources.

Action items quickly emerged.  The entering freshman class that fall (August 2013) were specifically briefed by a senior Student Life staff member on what was expected in terms of proper, upright behavior.  Entering students were provided with a copy of OCR’s “Know Your Rights” summary, along with a highly-specific cover letter from Vice President Jackson.  The following month (September 2013) the “Do Something!” campaign was launched – a sexual assault prevention campaign hosted the week after Labor Day 2013.  The campaign was sponsored by Baylor’s Sexual Assault Advisory Board, chaired by Dr. Cheryl Wooten, an outstanding leader recognized across the nation for her expertise in dealing with the horror and trauma of sexual violence.

The story continues, with the appointment of an EC member, Dr. Karla Leeper, as the Title IX coordinator, to succeed the departing John Whelan (again, the head of HR, who left to return to his adopted state of Indiana as head of HR at IU-Bloomington).  This basic fact stands uncontested  -- at no time did Baylor University fail to have a high-level Title IX coordinator in place.  Never.  Not for one instant.

The suggestion that the Administration somehow failed to have a Title IX coordinator in compliance with OCR guidance is demonstrablyis manifestly wrong.  Indeed, Baylor was months ahead of OCR’s later guidance that the issues swirling around Title IX were sufficiently complex that a full-time coordinator was called for.  Baylor was way ahead of the curve.

Following numerous meetings of the specialized Task Force, the Administration engaged a leading consulting firm, Margolis Healy & Associatesd, to assess Baylor’s compliance with Title IX and the Clery Act (a federal law requiring reports of on-campus assaults; note the key requirement of on-campus).  Within a few short months, Margolis Healy recommended the appointment of a full-time Title IX coordinator.  At the round table, the EC discussed that recommendation, along with others (including our shortcomings in reportings due under the Clery Act).  Without dissent, the EC embraced the consulting firm’s recommendation, and by October 2014, Patty Crawford was in place in her full-time role.

In the meantime, the Sexual Assault Advisory Board developed an elaborate prevention proposal to launch in the fall of 2014.  That exemplary proposal resulted in the “Bear Up Now” program, designed to prevent all forms of interpersonal violence.  In August and September 2014, a full year before the Texas Monthly neutron-bomb report, widespread campus training for all students was launched.  In particular, the effort featured the renowned “Green Dot” program (developed by the federal government in response to sexual violence reports at the Air Force Academy).  Green Dot is a state-of-the-art program that sets the standard for the pivotally important function of bystander intervention.

Throughout late August 2014, almost 150 peer-leader educators were trained in prevention; those peer leaders then lead elaborate prevention education sessions in small groups with community leaders and their residents.   Beloved Baylor Police Officer Kandy Knowles guidedled numerous discussions with students in residence hall meetings early on in the new academic year.  Chapel, thea cherished Baylor tradition, featured the highly impressive Rachel Sibley and others in the Baylor community who were outspoken on the subject of preventing sexual violence.  The faculty and staff likewise joined in the effort.  Over a three- month period from August through October 2014, almost 2000 faculty, staff and student workers completed training sessions on both Title IX and the Violence Against Women Act, a measure which had been signed into law (a reauthorization) by President Obama in the early spring of 2013).

Baylor loves its students.  I love the students.  We want them not only to be safe, but to flourish.  We worked hard to achieve that goal in a fallen world, where all too often, students will yield to temptations all around them.  We could always do more.  And the silver lining of the nine-month ordeal culminating in the events of May 2016 is that no university is more focused on Title IX-related prevention and effective response than our beloved Baylor.

To be sure, there were failures and shortcomings.  In particular, I lament the now-known fact that first responders were, at best, insensitive to reports of sexual violence.  But there are limits to what the University can do with respect to OFF-CAMPUS behavior, especially when alcohol flows freely – and all too frequently, it flows to tragic excess.  But that jurisdictional point – off-campus drinking, not infrequently under-age drinking – was deemed utterly irrelevant by American culture’s ultimate mediator, the mainstream media, led in this instance by ESPN.  Its provocative investigative reporting avenue, “Outside the Lines,” had found a target on the banks of the Brazos.  Several of us, including Coach Art Briles, an honorable and decent man (and football genius) would be fatally hit by the media’s unrelenting fusillade.