Child welfare and community norms: a troubling divergence

This summer, I was asked by a reporter to comment on a terrible case in the District of Columbia. Twenty-month old Kemy Washington died of starvation and dehydration, after her mother had had overdosed on a mix of MDMA, cocaine, ethanol and the animal sedative xylazine. An older sibling had been removed from Kemy’s mother due to her neglect and that child’s guardianship with a relative had been ratified only days before Kemy was born. Yet, Kemy was never on the radar screen of the Child and Family Services Agency until her grandmother made two calls, which were apparently screened out as not involving child abuse or neglect. When I read the more than 600 comments on the article, I was struck that over and over again, commenters asked the same question. How is it that a mother who had a previous child removed from her due to neglect could give birth to another child without triggering an investigation, close monitoring, or even removal of the child? The reporter asked me the same question and I explained that such a policy, though clearly logical to members of the community, would never be accepted by the current child welfare establishment, where it would be viewed as an unacceptable infringement on parents’ rights.

I have often remarked on situations where child welfare policy or practice departs from general community norms. Whether it is the continued screening out of calls on the same family, even if a child was previously removed; the refusal to consider policies that would trigger investigations when a new child is born to a parent who committed severe abuse or neglect; the push to “reunify” children with parents who have proved over and over again that they cannot keep them safe or even stop harming them, it seems that policymakers and practitioners of child welfare are operating from a different set of norms than the public. What would be clear to a grandparent, a neighbor, or a random layperson do not seem so evident for those who are charged with protecting our children. This was made very clear in a devastating report on child fatalities in Minnesota. As the authors put it,

Members of the public often express dismay and outrage to us over stories such as those recounted in this report. We infer from this that the professional norms currently guiding child protection and foster care are out of alignment with those of the broader community. 

Examples of this divergence abound, and I am sharing just a few here.

“B.B.” was born in the State of Washington in 2022 and died of fentanyl poisoning in March, 2023. Starting in 2014, the Department of Children, Youth and Families (DCYF) had received 30 reports about B.B.’s family for the use of heroin, marijuana and alcohol in the home; lack of supervision of the children; domestic violence; an unsafe adult living with the family; an unsafe and unclean physical environment; unsecured guns in the home, “out-of-control” behaviors by B.B.’s older siblings at school to which the mother was unresponsive, seeming “out of it;” concerns about the children’s hygiene; and the mother driving under the influence of marijuana. A few days before B.B.’s death, a caseworker told B.B.’s mother that the agency was closing a voluntary services case that had been open for about half a year. But the family was already under investigation again at the time B.B. died.

There have been multiple cases around the country of child protection workers disregarding reports of hungry children eating food from the floor or the garbage, until a child finally died or escaped from the torturers. School staff in Utah reported making at least four calls in the 2022-2023 school year (confirmed by a timeline released by DCFS) to CPS alleging that Gavin Peterson was always hungry and eating food from the trash. School staff were buying his lunch but had to stop after his father and stepmother forbade it. One school staffer “said Gavin’s father and stepmother justified Gavin’s small frame and constant desire for food as side effects from his medication, but she didn’t buy it.” Why did CPS? That summer, Gavin was withdrawn from school. A year later he was dead after years of starvation and beatings.

Seven-month-old Emmanuel Haro is missing and presumed dead. Investigators believe that he was abused for an extended period of time before he was killed. But his suffering and death could have been avoided. His father had been arrested for abusing a child from a previous marriage in 2018–abuse so serious that the child is now bedridden. A simple “birth match” policy could have prevented the death of Emmanuel Haro. If birth records were linked to criminal and CPS records, Emmanuel’s birth could have triggered a mandatory investigation and monitoring because the father had been convicted of child abuse–the kind of policy that commenters in the Kemy Washington case were asking for. It is hard to think of a more common-sense idea than birth match. Yet, only five states had such a policy in 2022, according to my report on birth match for the American Enterprise Institute. And most of these programs are very limited both in terms of which parents are covered and of the state response.

Even a birth match policy would not help in cases where a parent’s violent history is known but disregarded. Four-year-old Rykelan Brown died from a beating by his father, Joshua Emmons, in May 2024, two months after he was removed from a loving foster home to be placed with Emmons. The foster parents had repeatedly reported that Rykelan came home from visits with his father bruised and saying his father hit him and he never wanted to go there again. The local Department of Social Services knew that in 2019 Emmons had beat his then-girlfriend’s three-year-old son so severely that he damaged the child’s liver, which must now be checked regularly. But the social services commissioner told an interviewer that the event occurred too long ago to be considered. Really? Even when paired with Rykelan’s bruises and reports of beatings?

As the above examples show, some things that are intuitive to ordinary people – -like that a child going to school hungry (and not because of poverty) – is a sign that something is deeply wrong at home–seemed to be missed by people engaged in child welfare practice, administration and policymaking. Much of the problem stems from a dominant ideology that preaches that abused and neglected children are almost always better off with their own families. The same viewpoint holds that what child welfare calls neglect is just poverty, as if all poor parents neglect their children, and that child welfare is a a racist system that was created to destroy Black and Brown families.¹ Social work schools have adopted and promulgated these positions and agencies have incorporated them in the training for new social workers. Deep-pocketed groups like Casey Family Programs have used their money to foster this ideology through training and technical assistance to state and local agencies. The entire child welfare community in many states has found itself endorsing policies and practices that defy common sense thinking.

We must bring child welfare policy and practice back into alignment with community norms. But that is easier said than done. The public pays little attention to child welfare until there is a tragic fatality or egregious incident that is covered in the media. But many of these cases are never known to the media and therefore to the public. And even when they are, child welfare agencies often refuse to release information about their past involvement with the family, in violation of federal law. So the press, the public and legislators cannot identify what went wrong and what would be needed to prevent future tragedies in the future.

A small but useful first step to align child welfare systems with community norms would be to make the public aware of decisions that clearly violated these norms and harmed children. The federal government should enforce the requirements of the Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act (CAPTA), which as interpreted in the federal Child Welfare Policy Manual, requires states to issue specific information and findings on all child maltreatment fatalities and near fatalities caused by maltreatment. That includes information about past dealings between the children’s families and the child welfare agency. Ultimately, the requirement must be expanded to cover all “egregious incidents” where maltreatment is suspected.² Increased public awareness how child welfare agencies knowingly and routinely leave children in harm’s way may help elevate child welfare into a major issue, not a backwater that gets addressed only when there is a tragedy.

Three family members are awaiting trial for murdering 11-year-old Arabella McCormick in August 2022 and torturing her sisters. A kindergarten aide in Arabella’s class told a reporter that she got a disturbing note from Arabella’s foster mother, who went on to adopt her and then allegedly participate in her murder. “In the envelope, it said, ‘Arabella is,’ and it was line items such as ‘a terrible child,’” she said. “‘She’s a liar. You can’t believe anything she says. She’s a thief. She steals everything. Don’t trust her.’ It was just one thing after another of horrible things that you would never say about a 6-year-old.” The teacher’s aide told the grand jury that she contacted child protective services (CPS) after Arabella arrived at school school in the same dirty clothes on several occasions. She also told CPS that Arabella wasn’t allowed to eat fruit, accept rewards or participate in recess with other children. “And the lady from CPS said to me on the phone — after I told her everything, she said, ‘Well, it could be worse,’” the teacher’s aide told the grand jury. Really? I don’t think most members of the public would agree.

Notes

1. In fact, child welfare systems initially involved White children only. Black children were originally excluded from public child welfare systems. ↩︎
2. Both Colorado and Wisconsin release information on cases meeting this description. ↩︎