I'm fundraising on behalf of my dear friend Julie. She's an amazing woman and mom to two kids (one with special needs) who's attempting to change careers amid an increasing amount of debt, trauma, and otherwise unfortunate circumstances. Here's her story in her own words.

I have wanted to share some of my experiences publicly for years and am so grateful to the women that have come before me and given me the strength and motivation to finally do so. I am sharing names of both institutions and people because they’ve been hiding in plain sight for way too long. And, although I still feel a deeply imbedded fear of retribution, I truly hope that sharing my truth may allow me to move forward.

School and Festivals

In 1996, when I was 17 years old, I was a student at the Walnut Hill School for the Arts (WHS). I had been accepted as a violin student but had decided to switch to the viola because the sound felt more like my voice. I was assigned to the only viola teacher on the faculty at the time, John Ziarko. Walnut Hill had/has a relationship with the New England Conservatory Preparatory School (NEC Prep) where Ziarko was on faculty. He was also my chamber music coach. Over the course of the first several months that I was his student, he would give lingering hugs, tell me he loved me, and began making sexual comments to me. He once suggested that I pull my sundress neckline down a bit lower and suggested that I explore my sexuality with my best friend at the time. I had heard of experiences other female students of his had had with him and knew what was happening was wrong. In hopes of paving the way for others to also come forward, I reported his behavior to the head of the music department at Walnut Hill which led to an investigation. I was required to sit at a table with several (maybe up to 10?) adults from both WHS and NEC prep and detail my experiences. I was allowed to bring my best friend with me for support, but it was terrifying. After the investigation, Ziarko had a letter placed in his file and was required to complete some egregiously short period of counseling. He remained on faculty at NEC Prep, among other schools in the Boston area. He was on faculty at the Greenwood Music Festival and for years I had nightmares about him abusing and harassing young students there. I also ended up without a teacher while facing college auditions and my senior recital after having only played the viola for a few months.

In 1997, the summer after my senior year in high school, I attended the Musicorda Music Festival (now defunct) in Mount Holyoke, MA. I was a runner and the male ‘dorm parent’, Ron Melnick (son of founder Jackie Melnick), noticed and offered to run with me. He was married with a teenage daughter of his own, so I thought nothing of it and welcomed the company. On our first run, he stopped during our run and attempted to kiss me. The same friend from the WHS/NEC Prep investigation was with me at the festival and shortly after this encounter I called my dad and he came and picked us both up immediately, though I didn’t explain why.

I had been told by my teacher at NEC, James Dunham, that I was not the caliber player to audition for festivals such as Taos, or participate in the school’s concerto competition, I became determined to prove Dunham wrong. In 2002 I took a bus to NYC and auditioned for the Marlboro Music Festival. A few weeks later, I received a voicemail letting me know that I had been accepted for the upcoming summer.

I called James to let him know as, for some reason, I still craved his approval. He sounded at least as shocked as I was and asked, “Well, who was on the audition committee?”. I told him that I wasn’t sure. I did, however, know that neither the violist from the Juilliard Quartet nor from the Guarnari Quartet were there. His reponse was, “Ohhhh, that’s how you got in. There probably wasn’t a violist on the committee.” Ouch. Fast-forward to my time at Marlboro.

For the first several weeks, everything seemed fine. One of the professionals in residence was Peter Wiley, cellist and protégé of Dave Soyer. We ended up talking quite a bit and becoming what I thought was good friends. That is until the night he knocked on my door at 2 am clearly looking for something more than conversation. I told him I was going to sleep and shut my door. At an event sometime shortly after that, he started saying inappropriate things to me such as, “I wish my wife weren’t going to be here this weekend because... (insert grossly suggestive look)”. By this point I knew that reporting his advances wasn’t in my best interest but did casually bring up his creepiness in a car ride to a festival organized outing. The driver of the car was staff photographer and son of the Senior Administrator, and he apparently took it upon himself to tell one of the higher-ups. I don’t doubt that his intentions were good, but he had obviously not had experience as a woman in the BFM classical music world. I suddenly noticed that Pete W. was not on campus for several days and when he came back, he walked up to me outdoors during the day and mumbled an apology about not meaning to make me uncomfortable. Apparently, the powers that be had enlisted Marcy Rosen (sole female senior cellist in residence that summer) to speak to him about what had been relayed by the photographer, and Pete’s sudden absence and mumbled apology was the result. The actual result was that I was decidedly NOT invited back to Marlboro (an unusual occurrence from what I had been told) and seemingly black-listed by all of the BFSP (Big Fancy String Players).

Professional Orchestras

The following summer I started performing at the New Hampshire Music Festival in Plymouth, NH. At the conclusion of one Thursday night party, a weekly tradition, a horn player in the orchestra, David Saunders, asked if I had any more beer in my room. I did and was always happy to share so he came up to my room with me. Once the door shut, he approached me and attempted to kiss me. I was shocked and also thought to myself, “Again????”. I awkwardly slunk out of his grasp, gave him a beer, and went back to the others. I never said anything to anyone because 1) he was married with children and I really liked his family and 2) I had absolutely learned by then that the only outcome was likely to be some sort of punishment for me.

At some point during my time at the NHMF I won my first full-time job at the Kansas City Symphony. I was in the viola section which meant we rotated stand partners. There was one older man that I dreaded being assigned to sit with because he *really* liked to put his hand on my knee, get his face close to mine, and stare at me whenever he had the chance. I hated it but, again, knew that there would be nothing but trouble for me if I said anything to anyone. Between that and the perpetual abuse of the orchestra by the Music Director, Michael Stern, I lasted for 3 years before I quit.

I moved to Seattle and began freelancing. I eventually won a section position in the Seattle Symphony in 2011 when my oldest child was 8 months old. It was a financial lifeline for me and my family. I had already been subbing there for a few years and it felt good to have a tenure track position. During the course of my 8 years there, I was verbally abused by my principal, Susan Gulkis, and told by the union president (a fellow violist) that there was nothing that could be done and that she had done that to everyone in the section at some time or another. The union president later came back and told me that I actually could go to HR since her beratement was regarding a contractual issue. I didn’t feel safe doing so as I was not yet tenured. She actively tried to prevent my tenure, but I somehow prevailed. The overall work environment was extremely toxic and there were countless accounts of people being both physically and verbally abused by other orchestra members. I tried to keep my head down and simply do the job I was hired to do. This ended up not being possible.

I was playing in a string quartet outside of work when the #MeToo movement struck. I remember talking about it and mentioning my past in very general terms to the female second violinist in my quartet and saying that I would assume that there isn’t a woman in our industry that hasn’t experienced some kind of sexual harassment or abuse. Her response was, “I haven’t! I guess I’m just not pretty enough.” I’ll just leave that there.

In October of 2018, I was backstage before a 1980’s Pops concert for which we were encouraged to dress 80’s style for. I had on a baggy off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and jeans and a colleague, Steve Bryant, walked up to me backstage at my ‘spot’ and said, “Julie, there’s something about it that makes me want to just pull that top right off of you.” I was enraged. Enough was enough. I proceeded to talk to the new union president and was encouraged to go to HR (this was not the only inappropriate comment Steve had made to me over the years). Suffice it to say, management did not handle it appropriately. I started having extreme anxiety every time I entered or exited the workplace. A few months later I was fired for breach of contract, which is technically valid as I did not have a sufficient doctor’s note for being out sick when I was not actually sick. I requested my full personnel file from the SSO and the notes from my many meetings with HR regarding Steve were in there and they were shocking. It was like reading the Fox News version of my experience. The only other note in my file was regarding a woman violist that was on a one-year contract going to the personnel manager and complaining to them that I was bullying Steve. This was a woman whom I had supported for years, both professionally and personally. When her husband, the English Horn player in the orchestra, had a serious medical condition, I made her two young sons’ lunches for school for a week and brought them dinner more than once. Again, just going to leave that there.

Lest I leave out one of the other highlights from my career, I was yelled at onstage, at a concert, with the principal trumpet player (David Gordon) leaping out of his chair, for having a shield between us. I was embarrassed, horrified, and upset. Everyone noticed both onstage and in the audience. What happened? Nothing.

Cumulative Effects

I haven’t touched my viola in about 4 years and have no plans to ever again. I know it’s not the viola’s fault, but it is the source of immense trauma and pain in my life. I can’t remember feeling joy playing it. I don’t listen to music. I have PTSD and haven’t been able to carve a new path for myself. My kids and I are now on Medicaid and receive SNAP benefits to pay for food.

I am just beginning to try and process my past and start developing a sense of self(worth) and confidence. It has been overwhelming to me to begin to realize the depths of the damage done. As I mentioned at the top, I believe that sharing this is the first step toward finally being able to move forward with my life. I can’t begin to express my gratitude to Lara St John, Cara Kizer, Katherine Needleman, and Claire Pollock for their bad-assery, bravery, and inspiration to share my story.