ROCHESTER — Strengthening workplace protections in state government was a focal point of this year's legislative session in Albany, but a federal lawsuit filed in 2012 and headed to trial this fall illustrates how state agencies are rarely held accountable when they fail to enforce policies already in place.

Court papers detailing a pattern of harassment, stalking, and retaliation at the state's Department of Corrections and Community Supervision (DOCCS), show how managers and investigators failed to adhere to sexual harassment protocol, which resulted in the plaintiff suffering a mental breakdown, according to experts who examined her.

Beginning in December 2009, Pamela S. Small, a 55-year-old former teacher at Attica Correctional Facility, repeatedly told her supervisors that a co-worker, correction officer Carl Cuer, had become fixated on her and had been sending her increasingly disturbing texts, letters and emails, according to the lawsuit, filed in the U.S. District Court for the Western District of New York.

Cuer claimed in letters, attached to the complaint, that God had begun speaking to him and told him that his wife would die and that he and Small were destined to be together. Despite her objections, he left love notes on her desk and showed up at her classroom and at her home.

The lawsuit says two superintendents, James Conway and Sandra Dolce, were made aware of Cuer's conduct but failed to pass along Small's verbal complaint to the state's Office of Diversity Management (ODM) — as is mandated by DOCCS guidelines — until she eventually made the complaints in writing.

Both Conway and Dolce, who were deposed by Small's attorney, Jennifer Shoemaker, of the Rochester-based Underberg & Kessler, admitted under oath that they believed Cuer had committed the acts described by Small.

DOCCS' sexual harassment policies required ODM to "expeditiously" investigate and resolve any complaints of sexual harassment, yet for months the department did nothing in response to Small's complaints and Attica failed to take meaningful action to address them, Shoemaker said.

"It is undisputed that Officer Cuer was not disciplined in connection with Small's complaints, and that he remains an employee in good standing at Attica," Shoemaker said.

Small wrote Cuer an angry letter demanding that he leave her alone and as she became increasingly frightened of the officer, she obtained a restraining order against him. Despite the order of protection, Cuer was allowed to come and go from Attica without restrictions, according to Dolce's testimony, while Small was instructed to use side doors and be "supervised."

Attica, like most prison complexes, is permeated by a male-dominated work culture and a "blue wall of silence," Shoemaker said, citing depositions from multiple Attica employees. Employees who report their colleagues' misbehavior are socially isolated and labeled "rats."

Things soon started to change for Small at her job. She noticed that the guards would turn away from her when she walked down the hall, and that they had stopped providing her with critical information about the prisoners who could pose a safety risk. She says her classroom was moved, at Cuer's request, to a less desirable location that made her feel less safe.

Small had been working at Attica since 2005 and had received only positive performance reviews, her attorney said. She was a "tough woman" who knew what she was getting herself into by accepting a job teaching violent felons, Shoemaker said.

But with the continued harassment and without the support of the guards at the maximum security prison, Small became "paralyzed with fear," Shoemaker said.

Small was now plagued with sleeplessness and began to experience stress-related health problems. By January 2011, she says it became unbearable for her to return to work at Attica.

Small's case is not unusual. Some of the most expensive sexual harassment settlements involving state agencies have come out of DOCCS. Of more than $11 million paid out by the state since 2008 to settle harassment and discrimination claims filed by state workers, more than 40 percent of those funds, $4.6 million, were used to address complaints at DOCCS, according to data released by the attorney general's office earlier this year.

Overall, payouts at DOCCS have ranged from $10,000 to $1.8 million. The most expensive payment came in 2009, following a nine-year legal battle involving a cook at Lakeview Shock Incarceration Correctional Facility in Chautauqua County who alleged that her boss harassed and threatened her and gave favorable treatment to other employees. Of $1.8 million, $1.1 million went to attorneys fees.

In 2010, Shoemaker represented two women who alleged that their supervisor at
Willard Drug Treatment Center in Seneca County made sexual advances and intimidating comments and downloaded a photo of one of the woman as his work screen saver. DOCCS settled that case for $1 million, paying $666,666  to one woman and $333,333 to the other. Of that combined amount, $250,000 went to attorney's fees.

While those cases resulted in long-term psychological trauma for the victims, they pale in comparison to the ordeal Small has been through, Shoemaker said.

DOCCS, represented by the attorney general's office, has not made a settlement offer beyond $600,000, plus lawyers' fees, and the case has now dragged on for six years. Experts hired by the plaintiff estimate that her economic damages -- her salary and pension -- amount to $2.3 million, Shoemaker said, noting that DOCCS' own expert valued Small's economic damages at $1.2 million.

That does not account for the health, and physiological impact the events have had on Small's life. Small has since become permanently disabled, having been diagnosed with a severe form of post-traumatic stress disorder. Once a fit, socially active mother of three, Small is a virtual recluse and "unrecognizable" to those who have known her, Shoemaker said.

Small nearly lost her home and was forced to give away her dog, which she became unable to care for. In 2016, Small briefly moved out of the country, hoping to start over, but, she later told her lawyer, the fear followed.

The attorney general's office referred an inquiry about the state's defense in the case to DOCCS, which did not respond to a request for comment. An attorney for Cuer, James Wujcik of Dadd, Nelson, Wilkinson & Wujcik, said the officer disputes the charges.  When asked which specific charges he disputes, Wujcik said, "I can't comment on the specifics of the case."

When asked about Small's case, a spokesman for Gov. Andrew Cuomo pointed out that the alleged behavior occurred before the governor took office in 2011, and highlighted the steps the administration has since taken to streamline sexual harassment protocol at state agencies. In 2011, the administration created an employee handbook, and in 2015, implemented a 10-step investigative process for human resources managers at state agencies.

The statewide anti-harassment policy specifies that "any supervisory or managerial staff who knowingly allows sexual harassment to continue may also be subject to appropriate disciplinary action which may result in termination."

Yet reporting by the Times Union has revealed a number of similarly mishandled complaints at state agencies in which managers and officials failed to follow protocol after learning about alleged misconduct and were not disciplined as recently as 2017.

At the Division of Criminal Justice Services (DCJS), two women who testified about misconduct by forensic director Brian J. Gestring were punished by the agency after the state inspector general's office shared their testimony with DCJS. One of those women has now filed a lawsuit claiming that DCJS Commissioner Michael C. Green and two other agency leaders, general counsel John Czajka and human resources director Karen Davis, failed to take appropriate action.

Another former DCJS official, James "Jay" Kiyonaga, was moved from agency to agency despite being followed by a litany of complaints of sexually charged behavior from female co-workers dating back more than a decade, a Times Union investigation found.

Patricia Gunning, who complained about Kiyonaga's abusive behavior at the Justice Center for the Protection of People with Special Needs in 2017, said her report to the agency's general counsel fell on deaf ears. "She told me she didn't have an obligation to report it it further," Gunning said.

Gunning has since filed a complaint with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, charging that the Justice Center "violated large portions of the state's required 10-step internal complaint investigative process" in handling the complaints against Kiyonaga.

DCJS responded similarly to a complaint about Kiyonaga in 2012.

Legislation enacted in this year's budget aims to strengthen protections in the public and private sector, prohibiting nondisclosure agreements and mandatory arbitration clauses. It also tasks the state's division of Human Rights and Department of Labor to produce a "model" sexual harassment policy. But legal experts say harassment won't stop until the culture at these agencies is overhauled.

"Lawyers in my position often find that employers both governmental and private sector can have very thorough policies that provide for all kinds of possible avenues for reporting, but if the people in the organization don't take the policy seriously, it doesn't matter what's written on paper," said Kevin Mentzer, an attorney who specializes in employment issues.