Rethinking Foster Care

A Song for Families   An episode of NPR’s all-songs-considered has been stuck in my head for the past week or so.   I listened to it on the drive back to DC from the holiday weekend.   The theme was anthems.   It was fascinating.   The hosts discussed the contexts in which the songs were written, how each came to be known, what they represented and why they warranted anthem status.   They explored how anthems can celebrate, commemorate, or question if America is living up to its ideals-- and how each type was inherently patriotic.   The Star Spangled Banner headlined, but the hosts soon turned to “This land is our land,”   “Blowing in the Wind”, “Born in the USA”, “Fight the Power” (both versions) and a couple others.   They unpacked the songs.   Some were controversial.   Some were misunderstood.   All are emblematic. Guthrie sang to the dangers of economic disparity. Springsteen called us to do better by veterans. Dylan questioned the prudence of war.   Public Ene

Recently I sat on a panel at a statewide conference on legal representation at which a judge made the following remark: “We need high quality parent representation in child welfare cases. What we don’t need are lawyers who act like public defenders.” Many in the audience nodded in agreement. This wasn’t the first time I’ve heard a judge make this type of remark, and honestly, I’m a little annoyed each time I do. Some of the very best lawyers I know are public defenders, and I know that the child welfare system would be a better place for families if they practiced in it. Think about a system in which lawyers cited laws and statutes, aggressively enforced removal standards, challenged reasonable efforts findings, and thoroughly cross-examined witnesses and introduced new evidence. Such zealous advocacy would undoubtedly improve decision-making in our system. But perhaps buried within the judge’s remark lies an important nugget that sets family defense lawy

Two years ago, I was successful in clearing my name with the New York State Central Register (SCR).   The SCR is a database of those determined by a state child welfare agency, but not necessarily a court, to have committed child abuse or neglect of children.   If you are on it, you are in the same company as pedophiles, rapists and murderers of children.   My name had been in that database for 10 years. It wasn’t on my radar to do this until my youngest son told me he wanted me to clear my name.   What?   I was not going to relive something that happened over ten years ago.   The thought turned my stomach.   Kicking up emotional dust from the past can make you sick. It was bad enough that I walked around with what felt like a brand on my chest—invisible perhaps, but searing, and I felt as though people could see it.   Ten years ago – in the middle of a bitter divorce – my husband called in a false allegation against me—I ended up with child welfare and criminal court