Child welfare agency in crisis
Levy or not, insiders say, kids 'at risk'
Cincinnati.com, Oct. 30, 2011
Five years of budget cuts, mass layoffs and millions set aside to pay a potential fine for bad bookkeeping has left the agency that cares for Hamilton County's abused and neglected children frayed and - according to its social workers - at the breaking point.
The county is asking voters to renew a Children's Services levy on Nov. 8 that would bring in $39.1 million a year. It would cost the owner of a $100,000 home about $50 a year, the same as the current levy.
Last week, the Job and Family Services agency found itself the target of two investigations into the beating death of 2-year-old Damarcus Jackson, who had recently been in the agency's care. He's the third toddler in 10 months and the 10th in eight years to die despite intervention from Hamilton County social workers.
No one is saying Job and Family Services' budget woes led to those deaths, but an Enquirer examination of the agency - based on ride-alongs with social workers, public records, and an interview with the agency's boss -
revealed an overloaded system that lacks oversight, support staff and the technology that workers need to do their jobs.
Even before Damarcus' death, outsiders and the agency's workers acknowledged that children's safety could be at risk.
In the last three years, the Children's Services division has seen a 48 percent decrease in staff, from 460 employees in 2008 to 240 today.
In 2010, those 240 employees answered 66,207 calls to the county's emergency abuse hotline and served 15,839 children. At any one time the agency is helping one in 13 kids who live in the county. Those numbers have skyrocketed, and now
each caseworker handles up to 20 kids - almost double the number that a national advocacy group has recommended as best practice.
"Basically, we're all doing twice as much work with half the resources," said county social worker Myra Wheeler. "Something has to go. It's mathematics.
"I can't imagine how it couldn't be," that children are at risk, Wheeler said. "There are not enough hours in the day."
The United Way of Greater Cincinnati has warned that
giving the agency less money "would create significant risk for the children of Hamilton County."
"We believe that further funding cuts simply cannot be sustained without jeopardizing the safety of children in the community."
But Hamilton County commissioners authorized less money anyway. The previous levy brought in $40.8 million a year; the one on the Nov. 8 ballot will bring in slightly less: $39.1 million a year.
Job and Family Services director Moira Weir said she "hopes" children aren't at risk. But she's overseeing a Children's Services division that will have a 2012 budget of $71 million - $4 million less than last year and $30 million less than it had in 2007.
That's if the levy passes. If it doesn't, Board of Commissioners President Greg Hartmann said,
"it would be a crisis for kids."
"It would be a huge challenge to come up with that money; we don't have $40 million just sitting around," Hartmann said.
JFS isn't the only agency suffering.
In the last four years, Hamilton County has slashed nearly 23 percent from its operating budget, bringing it to $208.4 million for 2012.
The county desperately needs more jail space, a new crime lab, and is struggling to pay for the upkeep of the county's two professional sports stadiums.
An Enquirer/SurveyUSA poll of 1,200 county residents found that 72 percent would vote for the levy. And about half of those willing to vote for it said they would have been willing to pay more. There's virtually no opposition to the levy; a series of levy hearings earlier this year attracted only supporters.
Weir said she'll work with what she's given. But, she said, "
We've cut everywhere we can.
"We can never close our door," Weir said. "If a child needs placement, we will place that child."
The Enquirer spent time last month with three case workers - one who responds to emergency abuse calls, one who works with the kids immediately after being taken from their caregiver and another who works to reunite kids with their parents.
These long-time social workers offered a glimpse at a job where a routine work day might mean photographing horrific abuse, traipsing through filthy homes, and dealing with irate parents. They said recent cuts have made their job tougher.
Mother figure, friend and advocate
Joy Swing has a degree in mental health and human services and worked with kids in the welfare system for 20 years.
Her job title is Hamilton County JFS intake worker. But to the 15-year-old Elmwood Place teenager she's trying to find a home for this September morning, she's a mother figure, friend and advocate.
The teen boy was removed from his mother's care at age 13 after he was found living in a filthy home without working plumbing.
This day she picked him up from the Clifton group home where he's been living and headed to JFS's headquarters in downtown Cincinnati for a meeting of everyone involved in the teen's life.
The goal: find him a permanent home.
The teen, in black tennis shoes, a T-shirt and gym shorts, talked in staccato tones.
Alone with Swing, he spoke in a high staccato voice, telling her about school (it's going well), life in the group home (boring) and his need for a winter coat and bus pass (he walks to school).
In the meeting, it's clear: Swing knows everything about the teen and about the case.
She nixed the idea of a teacher mentor, because although the teacher is a good role model, he likely doesn't understand the commitment a mentor must make. And she chastised his sister for putting the needs of her former husband ahead of her children and brother.
She reminds everyone: "He can be a success."
The job has gotten harder, she said.
In the early 1990s she saw dirty homes, kids left alone, and parents drunk or using marijuana.
"Now, we have kids with mental health issues, parents doing drugs they can't get off of and just really bad abuse cases," Swing said.
Too many cases, and out of date technology
Ahead of having to set the amount of money the levy would bring in, county commissioners paid the Bethesda, Md.-based TATC consulting $89,000 to look at the agency.
It found:
- Caseloads have skyrocketed - from 12.7 children per staff member in 2008 to 20.1 children last year.
One social worker showed The Enquirer a list of her 55 cases.
- One national advocacy group, the Washington-based Child Welfare League of America, says social workers should have no more than 12 active cases per month.
- Out-of-date technology. After criss-crossing the county helping kids, social workers have to head downtown to desktop computers.
They're using their own cellphones; the provided ones are so old they're flip phones without keyboards. And they share cheap digital cameras, despite having to take abuse pictures that might be used to prosecute a parent.
The consultant recommended buying laptop computers, iPads and netbooks - computers they can use during home visits for data entry, reports and email.
The report said those tools could increase productivity so much it would be the equivalent of having an extra 20 to 24 full-time employees. Based on that, the county's Tax Levy Review Committee recommended the agency spend up to $750,000 on technology to "increase productivity" in the Children's Services division.
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Until last year, a crew of workers took kids to parent meetings, court, doctor's appointments, and to get basic things like a winter coats. That service was eliminated last year. Now social workers make those trips themselves, time that could be spent checking on other kids.
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There have been no raises in four years.
Hamilton County Job and Family Services' budget has dropped from $105 million in 2007 to $57 million this year; its staff reduced from 1,638 two years ago to 797 today.
In 2010 the agency stopped recruiting and training its own foster families, instead contracting oversight of them to outside agencies. The workers who had been recruiting, training and running background checks on foster families were shifted to more urgent work - investigating abuse and neglect.
The Children's Services Program is just one of four divisions run by Hamilton County's JFS department.
It is funded by the levy and with matching state and federal money.
The county JFS was re-accredited in May by the New York-based Council on Accreditation
The levy was first passed in 1981 and comes up for renewal every five years.
It has never lost.
In 2006, it passed with 68 percent of the vote.
Hamilton County commissioners set the amount of money the levy brings in.
Last year homes were re-valued, resulting in an overall decrease in values. As a result, the same level of taxation next year will bring in $39.1 million, about $1.7 million less than the levy brought in this year.
That also means there are fewer dollars that can be used to seek matching government grants.
"It was appropriate not to raise property taxes in the difficult economy we're in," said Hartmann, who wants people to vote for the levy. "It's fiscal responsibility applied to the levy."
Complicating Children's Services finances: the county has been setting aside levy cash that's meant to help kids.
Through public records, The Enquirer has learned that by the end of the year, Job and Family Services will have socked away $28.6 million dollars from the levy.
The agency says some of it is so they have cash on hand, but that
they are also saving ahead of a potential penalty for irregular bookkeeping between 2000 and 2004 over how it spent federal money intended to cover foster-care expenses, said JFS spokesman Brian Gregg.
An eventual settlement could exceed $60 million, according to one county estimate.
Three separate agency reviews have suggested the county set cash aside.
Both a county-paid expert hired to review the levy and the county's Tax Levy Review Committee say saving dollars for the potential repayment of money to the federal government is a good idea.
And a private forensic accounting firm hired by the county also suggested JFS start saving for the eventual payout.
Other Southwest Ohio counties have not cut their children's services divisions as much as Hamilton County.
Butler County cut its agency's budget by $2 million, or 7.3 percent over the last five years.
The staff has dropped from 198 to 181 - an 8.5 percent drop. Most of the cuts were in administration; hiring has been frozen this year.
In Clermont County, the budget is actually up $1.2 million or 9.8 percent over the last five years.
They have 56 employees - two more than in 2007.
They do what she says, or don't get kids back
Don't let Myra Wheeler's 5-foot, 4-inch height fool you. When she confronts a pot-smoking mother or a mother who lets her boyfriend abuse her four kids, they're going to do what she says.
Or they won't get their kids back.
Wheeler, who has 24 years of experience, is a caseworker in the Children's Services division. That means she's the one who makes sure parents are doing what the court wants them to do. Getting kids back almost always hinges on her recommendation.
The day The Enquirer shadowed her, she had 21 cases.
National guidelines suggest she should have no more than 17 cases at one time.
"I've never had that few," Wheeler said. "The lowest I ever had was 16, and that was for about five minutes."
The Child Welfare League of America recommends, depending on the type of case, that social workers handle anywhere from 10 to 17 families per one social worker.
"We can't decide not to help a child because we don't have enough workers; we do the best we can," Wheeler said.
One recent day she climbed into her Toyota Sienna with 201,000 miles on the odometer and a GPS stuck to the windshield - a make-shift office with coffee in the cup holder, her cellphone at her side.
She'll be in and out of it for the next nine hours.
She won't stop for lunch.
She drops in unexpectedly on a 27-year-old pregnant mom of four who had her kids taken away because she allowed her boyfriend to tie them to beds and beat them with sticks.
Groggy, having just woken up and wrapped in a blanket, she watches as Wheeler plays detective.
She looks in every room and closet, looking for clues the boyfriend is still around.
The woman admits the bad boyfriend has been giving her food and furniture, though she's quick to add she would never let him around her kids.
"You can make whatever choice you want. You're a grown woman," Wheeler says.
"He still has access to your home, he's still a safety threat, and I will report that to the court. I'm just being honest with you."
The woman says nothing.
A child with black eyes, and a family living in filth...
Ground zero for most child-abuse complaints is 241-KIDS, named for the telephone number people are supposed to call when they suspect child abuse.
Budget cuts mean that these days, workers also respond to adult-abuse allegations.
Answering the phone: 10 social workers, who then follow up in person within 24 hours.
Jeff Fielman, an after-hours in-take worker, stops in at the 241-KIDS office Downtown at the beginning of his Friday night shift, then heads out with a list of allegations to investigate.
A Cleves 11-year-old with two black eyes; a Miami Township boy with cuts on his head; and a Northside family living in filth top his to-do list this warm evening.
Fielman has a college degree in criminal justice, worked with sex offenders at the county's juvenile detention home and served in the military. And, he's tall and muscular.
That's helpful when he's knocking on strangers' doors in the middle of the night. Or when a parent says, "No, you can't take my kid."
The first family isn't home - another worker will go back in the morning.
At the second home - where he finds Grandma baby-sitting the seven kids - he interviews the boy and his siblings.
He high-fives the boys and talks backyard football, all while asking important questions like where the cut came from and whether they felt comfortable with their mom and dad.
Turns out, it's just a football injury.
It grows dark, and addresses are difficult to read.
Fielman doesn't stop.
The father of the family accused of having a dirty home won't let him in.
But, at Fielman's insistence, the father does bring the three kids outside.
They are clean, talkative and report no problems.
Fielman confers by cellphone with a prosecutor, and the two agree: somebody can return in the morning when Dad was willing to show a social worker around.
"My only goal is to make kids safe who are currently in unsafe conditions," he said.
