Why 'He's a Good Kid' Isn't a Plan

Every parent we interviewed said the same thing when they described their son before the accusation.

He’s a good kid. He was raised right. He knows better. He would never.

We believe them. And it wasn’t the issue.

The families who shared their stories with us — parents who watched their sons navigate Title IX investigations that lasted months or years, who hired attorneys and private investigators, who sat in waiting rooms outside offices that held their son’s academic future — weren’t parents who had failed at raising their kids. They were parents who hadn’t prepared for a specific set of circumstances they didn’t know to prepare for.

This post is about closing that gap.

What “Prepared” Actually Means

We’re not talking about teaching your son not to assault anyone. You’ve done that. This is something different: making sure he knows what to do if he’s accused of something he didn’t do.

Those are two entirely separate conversations, and almost no one is having the second one.

The Title IX system on college campuses operates differently from anything most families have encountered before. The standard of proof isn’t “beyond a reasonable doubt.” It’s a preponderance of the evidence — meaning the accuser only needs to be 51% believable for a finding of responsible. The school serves simultaneously as investigator, prosecutor, and decision-maker. Your son doesn’t have the constitutional protections he’d have in a criminal court. And critically: a finding of responsible — or even an open investigation — can block transfers to other schools, complicate graduate school applications, and follow him on his transcript.

One parent we interviewed — a faculty member who had sat through Title IX training and thought the system sounded reasonable — described the moment her family was inside the process as the moment she understood how different reality was from what she’d assumed.

“We thought Title IX was about equity in sports and fairness,” she told us. “How naïve.”

What Preparation Actually Looks Like

Before your son leaves for college — ideally before move-in day — there are a few things to have in place that cost little to nothing and that families in our interviews described as critical.

The legal paperwork. When your son turns 18, he becomes a legal adult, and you lose access. FERPA means the school can’t talk to you without his written permission. If he’s hospitalized, HIPAA means doctors can’t tell you anything. Before he leaves, have him sign a FERPA release with the university, a HIPAA release with his medical providers, and at minimum look into a medical power of attorney. These exist for medical emergencies, but they also matter if you need to navigate a school administration on his behalf.

An attorney’s name near campus. Not to retain — just to know. Families who had an attorney’s phone number already saved when the call came were in a significantly better position than families who were Googling “Title IX attorney” from a hotel parking lot trying to get to campus. Search before he leaves. Make sure he has the number saved.

Location sharing. This isn’t surveillance — it’s evidence. Multiple families we interviewed told us that location data from their son’s phone was critical in establishing that he was or wasn’t at a particular place at a particular time. Set it up as mutual before he leaves.

The one conversation about silence. Every parent we interviewed said the same thing: if they could go back, the one thing they would add to the pre-college conversation is this — if anything happens, call me first and say nothing to anyone else. Not the RA. Not campus police. Not a counselor. Not his friends. You first, then a lawyer. Explanations made to authority figures before an attorney is involved have consistently damaged the cases of accused students in ways that are difficult to undo.

What You Can’t Control

You can’t be with him. You can’t stop every bad situation from happening. You can’t prevent someone from making an accusation, and if you’ve raised a good kid, you probably can’t imagine having to.

But preparation isn’t about assuming he’ll do something wrong. It’s the same logic as car insurance, or teaching him to wear a seatbelt. You don’t do those things because you expect an accident. You do them because the cost of being unprepared when something goes wrong is higher than the cost of preparation.

The families who navigated these situations best weren’t luckier. They had a plan.

You can still build one before he leaves.


The Title IX Trap: A Parent’s Handbook is built around exactly these conversations — what to do before he goes, and what to do if the call comes. Available at titleixtrap.com.