More than two decades ago,
when I was writing Wounded Innocents,
my book about the American child welfare system, a lawyer in Los Angeles told
me about “the attitude test” – and how it can lead to every kind of child
welfare tragedy.
It works this way:
Parents who
really are guilty, even of serious maltreatment, sometimes can get away with it
if they are “system-wise” and know how to put on a good act for a
caseworker. The parent who says “Oh, I
am so very, very sorry. I know I need
help. Please bestow upon me your
‘counseling’ and your ‘parent education’” may get her child returned over and
over again, no matter how serious the abuse.
The parent who says “I’m innocent, damn it!” because she is, in fact,
innocent, may lose her child forever.
The attitude
test is alive and well in Los Angeles (and everywhere else in America) but
given how reporters tend to stereotype families, they often refuse to believe
it – unless, of course, they see it for themselves. Certainly, it’s unlikely that Garrett Therolf
of the Los Angeles Times would ever
have believed it, had he not seen it for himself.
He could see it
because in February, Presiding Juvenile Court Judge Michael Nash, opened hearings
in what is called “dependency court” to the media and, sometimes, to the public.
So Therolf saw a
classic example of vindictive caseworkers punishing children because their
mother “flunked the attitude test,” and he wrote a
very good story about it. (See also this
excellent summary and analysis of the story from WitnessLA.) And be sure to
read to the end: The final paragraphs perfectly sum up American child welfare.
In the story,
Marlene Furth, who works for the contractor that provides defense counsel for
these families, did a very good job of putting the case into context.
[Furth] called it an "outrageous case" of retaliation that
she sees too often. It is "not a daily occurrence, but it is also not
highly unusual," she said in an interview.
"The problem that exists," she said, "is that there are
very very many dedicated workers and they work extraordinarily hard to reunify
families, and then there are many workers who don't - either because they are
burned out, overworked or reached a point where they don't care."
But, of course, had
Furth's firm had gotten its way, we’d never know about this case. That’s because her firm, contrary to the
interests and desires of many of its clients, has been fighting against keeping
these court hearings open – in part, I believe, because it would expose
the poor quality of representation families often receive.
