A Prominent Sex-Abuse Survivor Hopes #MeToo Finally Gets Her Rapist Fired
LatestFor the past 16 years, Dr. Thomas Hodgman has taught at Adrian College’s Music Department, where he currently serves as the choir director. He enjoys a tenured position at the school even though, in 2005, the Catholic Diocese of Orange County, California paid a $1.6 million settlement to Joelle Casteix, after she filed a civil lawsuit alleging that Hodgman repeatedly sexually assaulted her and gave her an STD in the late 1980s. Back then, Casteix was his student at Santa Ana’s Mater Dei High School. She was 15 years old. He was 25. Documents released as part of the settlement show a 1989 letter signed by him and Mater Dei’s principal that stated Hodgman “not only admitted to dating” an underage Casteix and another student, “but having sexual intercourse with them.”
they have stayed strangely silent on the ultimate molester-protection racket of them all: The Catholic Church.
Hodgman still teaches at the private, Methodist-affiliated Michigan college even though for the past 12 years, Casteix has repeatedly asked Adrian College to fire him, going so far as to post his Mater Dei confession online and meet with school officials (an Adrian College spokesperson told the Toledo Blade in 2005 that Hodgman had suffered “personal harassment” by Casteix, and that “we’ve supported Tom Hodgman since we hired him.”).
But in the tipping point of #MeToo, when powerful men are seeing consequences for decades-old abuses, Casteix hopes her rapist will be held accountable.
In November 2017, she published an open letter addressed to Adrian College President Jeffrey Docking, and cc’ed the school’s Title IX coordinator and the former president of the school’s Association of Professors. Casteix once again called for Hodgman’s dismissal, but added that she would be no longer play their victim. “The blame is not mine to bear. It is his and it is yours—for condoning the molestation of children,” she wrote. “With the recent scandals involving Harvey Weinstein, Kevin Spacey, and other powerful men in media and Hollywood, the dam is breaking.”
It’s as if many activists, more than happy to attack Hollywood and politicians, are too intimidated to take on traditional institutions that long formed a bedrock of “respectable” American life.
And for her efforts, Docking blocked Casteix on Twitter, as did Adrian College’s official account.
“I was so proud to be blocked,” Casteix laughs, speaking via phone from her Newport Beach home. “I feel like I’m queen of Twitter!”
I’ve known Casteix for 14 years and, in 2009, covered her story in-depth for a feature in OC Weekly. By that time, she had become the public face of sex-abuse survivors in the Orange diocese sex-abuse scandal, which ended with church officials settling with 90 plaintiffs for $100 million—at the time, the largest such settlement in the history of the Catholic Church. Her story was especially compelling: Casteix had volunteered her PR skills in 2003 to help the Diocese of Orange navigate the controversy, then quit in disgust from an advisory board just six months in. “One priest would bitch and moan [about] public records of priests… that it was ruining their names,” Casteix said then. “Another would blame the media and say it was anti-Catholic. Everyone blamed greedy lawyers. Not once did we discuss an allegation of sex abuse.”
Since then, she has become one of the most prominent sex-abuse survivors in the United States, a media favorite for her insightful quotes and vibrant sense of humor. She eventually became Western Region director for Survivors Network of Those Abused by Priests (SNAP), the group highlighted in the Academy Award-winning Spotlight that has proven crucial to publicizing the cases of Catholic sex-abuse survivors. But all along, Hodgman—who has never faced criminal charges for his abuse of Casteix—continued to teach. As a result, Casteix felt that she had to play the role of a meek victim at the mercy of her lawyers and church officials.
“As an advocate for other survivors, I was able to stand up and punch back [against critics] twice as hard,” she says. “I could go toe to toe. But in my own case, we were relegated into secondary positions I didn’t like—nice, quiet, docile.”