Like the family separations at the border, the case of the school district that threatened children with foster care if parents didn’t pay lunch money debts has raised tough questions about American child welfare. And once again, American child welfare is desperate to avoid them.
Imagine for a moment that you are listening to a discussion
program on your local public radio station.
The role of police is mentioned briefly, but it is tangential to the
topic at hand. Nevertheless, a police officer
rushes to call in to defend conduct that was never under attack; and the
program is keen to put his recorded comment on the air. “I want you all to remember” he declares,
that police would never needlessly stop and frisk anyone, there’s no such thing
as false arrest, and certainly no police brutality. There’s so much more to these cases, you
civilians just don’t understand.
A journalist on the panel rushes to agree, declaring that
these are all extremely complex cases and police can never jail anyone without
proof. And they certainly don’t
stop-and-frisk people “at the drop of the hat.”
You’d probably roll your eyes at the police officer and
wonder why his comment was even on the program.
You’d really wonder about the journalist. Whatever happened to the
skepticism in which journalists take such pride? What about holding power accountable?
Of course this almost never would never happen if the issue were law
enforcement. But what if the issue were
child protective services?
We got the answer last week.
Meet Laura the caseworker.
She was sooooo upset.
She was listening to The 1A, a discussion program with
listener participation produced for NPR by Washington, D.C. public radio
station WAMU. It is usually among the
best such programs, with host Joshua Johnson asking thoughtful questions and
skillfully steering the discussion. (Though he makes it sound easy, having
actually hosted a somewhat similar public radio program a very long time ago, I
can tell you it’s not.)
The topic of the program’s first
hour on July 24 was school lunches, how we wound up where we are with such
programs, and the general question of lunch shaming. The news peg, of course, was that
Pennsylvania school district that suggested children could
be placed in foster care if their parents didn’t pay their lunch money
debts. Child protective services
actually wasn’t on the menu for discussion.
But Laura the caseworker was still upset.
No, it wasn't the outrageous behavior of the school district that prompted her to call into the program. Rather, she
feared that someone, somewhere might actually get the impression that child
welfare systems arbitrarily and capriciously investigate families and remove
children from their homes.
They do, in fact, do just that. But every time there’s a serious possibility
people might notice, it gets many those who work in the system upset. Look at how desperate people in American child
welfare have been to claim that what they do is nothing
like what Trump did on the Mexican border. Of course there are differences –
but there are far more similarities. So many, in fact, that I’ve
made a checklist.
The caucus of denial
Similarly, child welfare has what amounts to a “caucus
of denial” that insists there is no racial bias in the field – despite the mountain of evidence that tells us
otherwise. What other field is so
arrogant that large numbers of its practitioners actually claim that it is
uniquely exempt from the racial bias that permeates American life?
It is an arrogance bred by nearly untrammeled power,
combined with obsessive secrecy. And too
often, journalists are complicit in the efforts of child welfare professionals
to distance themselves from the harm their work often does to the children
that, usually, they sincerely want to help.
It’s as if the journalists themselves, often of the same
race and/or class as child welfare professionals, foster and adoptive parents,
can’t bring themselves to believe that generally good well-meaning people, who
are so much like themselves, could wind up harming children in much the same
way as those who act from calculated cruelty – such as Trump or that
Pennsylvania school district.
Laura’s complaint
And that brings us to Laura the caseworker (1A doesn’t give the full names of
listeners who comment), and why 1A
inserted her irrelevant comments into the discussion – just to be sure no
would, for even a second, think ill of child protective services.
At the end of this post, I’ll offer a reading list I hope
the producers of 1A will look at
before they venture into child welfare again.
But right now, let’s examine what Laura said when she left this
voicemail on the program’s listener comment line:
I work in dependency court as a child welfare social worker in California for 6 years; and I just want 1A to remember that there are many more details that are not known to the public about why families get involved and, I can assure you it’s not just because they’re not paying the lunch money.
OK, let’s stop right there.
First, notice the finger-wagging arrogance throughout: “I just want 1A to remember…” “…I can assure you …” Next,
notice how the worker hides behind confidentiality laws that are put in place
at the behest of child welfare agencies themselves to shield them from
scrutiny. What she’s saying is: Trust
us. We’re always right, but we just can’t tell you about it.
Laura continues:
There’s a strict criteria that dictates when and how much child welfare services can be involved.
That is simply not true.
Oh, I’m sure there are thousands of pages of policy manuals
but they don’t matter. Many state laws
Who decides if it’s an emergency? The caseworker. The
power is often abused.
literally define lack of food (or clothing or shelter) as “neglect” (and, well, if they’re not paying their lunch debt, who knows, right?) Caseworkers can remove children from their homes entirely on their own authority in an “emergency” (or ask law enforcement to do it for them).
literally define lack of food (or clothing or shelter) as “neglect” (and, well, if they’re not paying their lunch debt, who knows, right?) Caseworkers can remove children from their homes entirely on their own authority in an “emergency” (or ask law enforcement to do it for them).
And study after study has shown that at every stage in the
decision-making process, from screening a hotline call, to substantiating a
case, to removing a child to termination of parental rights, workers are more
likely to act against the family if the family is African-American – even when
the actual risk to the child is the same.
Laura concludes:
But it just really bugs me when there’s an allegation of just taking kids away for that, when really there’s so much more to the story.
Notice the hyper-defensiveness. Nobody actually accused the child protective
services agency of taking children because of school lunch debts. The issue was the school district threatening
to report families for that reason. But,
the producers of 1A were so
sympathetic to her claim that they inserted it into a program that otherwise
had little to do with the role of child protective services, but only with a
school district’s threat to try to use the agency.
The journalist responds
After the caseworker-in-denial came the journalistic
enabler. Johnson turned to Laura
Meckler, national education reporter for The
Washington Post. She promptly agreed
with Laura the caseworker: Said Meckler:
I think that’s right. These child welfare cases are extraordinarily complex. You have to prove that there’s abuse or neglect.
No, you don’t.
As noted above, a caseworker can have children removed
entirely on her or his own authority. Children can be held for months, even
years, in foster care before any court ever finds that there actually was abuse
or neglect. And even then the standard
of proof is not “beyond a reasonable doubt” or even “clear and convincing” – it’s
“preponderance of the evidence” – the same standard used to decide which
insurance company pays for a fender-bender.
A couple of other details:
● The family might or might not get a lawyer – and if they
do it’s probably an overwhelmed public defender who met them five minutes
before the first court hearing.
● The judge knows that if she returns the child home and
something goes wrong, her career could be over. Hold hundreds of children in
foster care needlessly and the children will suffer terribly but the judge (and
the caseworkers) will be safe.
● In most states, all the court hearings are secret.
Now, back to Meckler:
I think that what is much more likely to end up in a child welfare investigation is a report that there is no food in the house, and a child welfare worker comes to the house and looks in the fridge and there’s nothing there. That’s the kind of thing that lands somebody in losing their kids temporarily or potentially permanently. It’s not like this stuff happens at the drop of a hat.
So what Meckler really is saying is: If the family can’t pay
the lunch money debt and can’t afford to feed the child at home, then it’s o.k. to take away the child –
potentially permanently! I guess it’s
hard to see the extent to which child welfare confuses
poverty with neglect if you have no problem with such confusion in the
first place.
So how might this play out in the Pennsylvania school
district case, had the district carried out its threat:
● The district phones in a report alleging that a child is
being deprived of food because parents are neither providing lunches themselves
nor paying for the school district to do so.
● Because the call comes from a “mandated reporter” it’s
automatically given more credibility at a child abuse hotline, so it’s more
likely to be accepted for investigation.
● The caseworker comes to the door and begins a process
that, even if it does not result in foster care, is inherently
traumatic for children – a process that is inflicted on one-third of
American children, and more
than half of African-American children.
● If the caseworker finds a spotlessly clean home (because
CPS workers have an unfortunate tendency to equate cleanliness with being a
wonderful parent, and
vice versa) and if the pantry and refrigerator are well stocked with the
right kinds of foods, then the worker almost certainly will close the case – with
the children left much the worse for the whole experience.
But if, God forbid, the home is dirty or the cupboards are
bare, or the housing is seriously rundown down or, worst of all, mom or dad smoked
pot, then depending on the caseworker who came to the door and the
community in which it occurred, the children might very well wind up in foster
care.
At the drop of a hat.
A reading list
I don’t expect journalists unfamiliar with child welfare to
know this; I certainly didn’t when I was starting out in journalism all those
years ago. But I do hope that producers
venturing into this territory will do their homework. So here’s the homework. See especially the first New York
Times story and the excellent work from other NPR programs.
● NPR’s LatinoUSA’s
half-hour
documentary about a typical child welfare case.
●The Times also
reported on how parents can lose
their children for smoking pot.
● There’s this from
the Houston Chronicle about a family whose children were
taken solely because of inadequate housing.
● The Philadelphia
Daily News, a small paper in a big city, did this story. And this one. And this one.
● The reporter who would go on
to expose the Flint water crisis did this story for Detroit’s alternative
weekly Metro Times about what typical child
welfare agencies do in typical cases.
● There’s this story from KRIV in Houston and this one from the same station.
● There’s this story from WXYZ-TV in Detroit.
(There were many more from WXYZ, but broadcast websites tend to be less good
about keeping their stories online.)
● And the Biloxi, Miss. Sun-Herald
made how secrecy harms families the theme of a
six-part series.