Andrew Cuomo for Mayor? His “First Accuser” Says New York City Deserves Better

New York City deserves better than Andrew Cuomo. As frustrated as city residents rightfully are about the behavior of its scandal-plagued mayor, Eric Adams, it can indeed get worse.

It’s been nearly four years since Cuomo left the governor’s mansion in disgrace after at least 10 other women and I called out what we considered to be his sexually harassing behavior. He has denied the allegations, of course, vigorously and repeatedly. And now he’s announced a run for mayor.

Although some pundits have been insisting that enough time has passed—and that certain men who have fallen from power should be allowed to regain it—that stance is misguided because men like Cuomo never really lose power. They maintain their positions because people who are very powerful themselves are still afraid of them—a dynamic that speaks to our political moment. Every day, we see this in Washington, DC: People who should be saying no are instead doing nothing.

The once-powerful stay in the game for another reason too. Many of them just keep quietly abusing their power in ever more creative and, in my view, vengeful ways—and in Cuomo’s case, at taxpayers’ expense. That’s right: Section 17 of the Public Officers Law ensures that the state will provide legal defense to public officials accused of “any alleged act” during their time in office. Three women have sued Cuomo for sexual harassment. Legal fees for defending against such accusations would usually would fall to the state attorney general’s office, but in this instance Attorney General Letitia James is conflicted out because her office already commissioned an independent investigation that confirmed the claims of rampant sexual harassment. (The ex-governor’s legal representatives, meanwhile, have characterized the findings in James’s report as “biased” and “flawed.”) So taxpayers are on the hook for Cuomo’s private lawyers representing him in his defense—and the private lawyers of some senior staff members, whom several women have accused in lawsuits or probes by the state legislature of enabling or covering up the former governor’s behavior.

This goes far beyond simply defending against lawsuits brought by women seeking recourse. Some might euphemistically call it aggressive lawyering, but Cuomo and his legal team, as I see it, have deployed tactics that in one instance even the court has called a “scorched earth” approach.

According to the New York Post, New York state taxpayers have paid more than $16 million for Cuomo and his associates in defense of two of these cases to use the judicial system to, among other things, gain intimate information about accusers through subpoenas and invasive depositions. Here’s a fact that should appall New York voters, especially women: You paid for Cuomo’s lawyers to seek the gynecological records of an accuser. Why? It’s a good question that voters should ask the candidate as he makes the rounds.

In a 2023 political poll, New York voters were asked if “Cuomo acknowledged and apologized for his behavior toward women…would you consider voting for” him? Reading the question made my stomach turn because it implied the harassment had stopped. It hasn’t. It’s just moved from behind closed doors to the halls of so-called justice as he continues to discount his accusers’ claims and bury them with paper. While the women who worked for and with Cuomo may no longer be subject to inappropriate behavior, misconduct, or sexual harassment, some of us remain the victims of what could be interpreted as an ongoing campaign that weaponizes the legal system as a tactic for retribution.

Although I decided against taking legal action against a man who had already stolen enough of my energy, I’ve been subjected to a string of subpoenas in civil cases to which I am not a party. My choice is to either pay for lawyers of my own or submit to depositions with no one on my side of the table. I am ostensibly there as a witness, but attorneys for Cuomo and his aides have tried to dig into my personal life, obtain years’ worth of phone records from another accuser, and in one instance, have gone so far as to subpoena my college-age former intern. To date, I’ve had to pay more than $1.5 million in legal fees out of my own pocket to protect and defend myself; the physical and mental costs are incalculable.

While those of us in Cuomo’s legal sights pay our own considerable and potentially ruinous attorneys’ fees, millions of dollars that could be spent on services or initiatives benefiting the citizens of New York state are instead, from my perspective, being squandered to help whitewash Cuomo’s image. Heads, he wins; tails, we all lose. Ask yourself what kind of “public servant” believes that continuing to go after these women in court is a better use of public money than investing in the state and in the city that he now hopes to serve as mayor.

Cuomo spokesman Rich Azzopardi, in The New York Times, has called the legal efforts and financial outlay justified as a means of helping to defend or restore the “reputations of those who have gotten dragged into these frivolous cases. We have a right to defend ourselves against baseless claims and uncover the facts that were hidden away in the political arena.” He has added that when the cases are “dismissed we fully intend to seek attorneys’ fees from the plaintiffs to reimburse the state.” Good luck with that.

Cuomo’s accusers are not alone in their experiences. According to the National Women’s Law Center, more than seven in 10 survivors who experience workplace sexual harassment have been retaliated against in some form, including through termination, lawsuits, or denial of promotions. It is deeply troubling how we as a society collectively continue to mistreat those who dare to speak up about their harassment and abuse.

Attorneys tell me to keep my head down and my mouth shut, but that is precisely why and how powerful men believe they can continue to act with impunity. This is not who we are as Americans—and certainly not who we are as New Yorkers. If we see something, we are supposed to say something. And elections give us our loudest voices.