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Children's Justice
Initiative
Given my passion for children's issues, this is an area for
which I hold out great hope. And there is no subject that will
have a greater impact on our future. And I don't just mean "future"
in the broad sense of what will happen in the years ahead. I
also mean "future" in the sense of individual boys
and girls who surround us today and who will grow up to be our
neighbors, our sons- and daughters-in-law, and tomorrow's leaders,
if given the chance.
Children are amazing -- Having three of my own, I am often reminded
that they don't miss a thing. Recently, there was a newspaper
article that contained children's responses to various questions
about dating and marriage. One eight-year-old boy was asked,
"how can you tell if two people are married?" The boy
answered -- "You might have to guess, based on whether they
seem to be yelling at the same kids." How observant is that!
This is a wonderful illustration of how kids never miss a beat.
And as all of us who have worked with abused and neglected children
in the child protection system know, they see and understand
so much more than we expect them to.
But make no mistake, they are watching us, they are watching
the system -- and they are watching the months and years tick
by on the calendar. Appreciating a child's perceptions and the
consequences of our collective actions is really approaching
our jobs "through the eyes of a child." Not through
the eyes of the judge, the prosecution, the defense, the social
worker or the "system," but through the eyes of the
child -- because it is children's interests that are legally
paramount. And that's what the Children's Justice Initiative
is all about.
Even if your work as an attorney is outside the scope of child
protection, you should be aware of this initiative because of
its far-reaching implications and how it will touch on other
aspects of criminal justice.
The Children's Justice Initiative is the first of its kind in
the country and is a joint collaboration between the courts and
the Department of Human Services. Our goal is to move children
into permanent homes faster. Many other states in the country
have at least one "model court" designed to do a better
job with some element of child protection. But we are not interested
in having one "showcase court" in Minnesota. Instead,
it is our vision to become a "model state," so every
Minnesota child, regardless of location, has the best possible
chance for a safe and permanent home, at the earliest possible
time.
To do this, we've identified "lead judges" in 12 initial
counties and they've pulled together teams from every element
of the child protection system -- guardians ad litem, county
attorneys, public defenders, social workers, teachers, and law
enforcement -- to work together implementing best practices to
achieve better outcomes for abused and neglected kids in each
county.
Eventually, we'll phase in three more waves of counties until
the entire state has significantly improved the delivery of services
for maltreated children and meets state and federal timelines
for permanency. But the real strength of this effort is the power
of getting everyone together at the same table to discuss the
challenges, have honest debates about the problems, and to be
jointly responsible for finding solutions.
And find a solution we must. From the "big picture"
perspective, statistics tell us that something isn't working.
For instance, we know that 80 percent of our prison inmates spent
time in child protection. As Karl Menninger once said, "What's
done to children, they will do to society."
Recent studies have also shown that when measured over a period
of 20 years, childhood abuse and neglect can lead to a whole
host of lasting, negative effects, including: lower IQ's,
less education, higher unemployment, more divorces, more personality
disorders, more suicide attempts and yes, a greater risk of being
arrested for a violent crime as both a juvenile and as an adult.
The National Commission on Children had this to say in a major
report about the state of child protection in America:
If the nation had deliberately designed a system that would
frustrate the professionals who staff it, anger the public who
finance it, and abandon the children who depend on it, it could
not have done a better job than the present child-welfare system
Marginal changes will not turn this system around.
But there's more than just the big picture and the aggregate
to look at. There are stories of boys and girls, all across this
state, who have somehow slipped through the cracks of our system.
These children are fighting against the odds and battling lifelong
effects of their experience -- not just the experience of abuse
and neglect -- but also the experience of being caught up in
the cogs of a bureaucracy for years upon years, longing for a
family who will love them and hating how long it takes to find
one.
There is no doubt that we cannot be held responsible for a parent's
behavior and its impact on a child. But it's time we started
asking ourselves whether the system's treatment of our
neediest children is also a form of abuse and neglect. Just leave
the initial maltreatment aside for a moment and think about the
impact that a poorly functioning system can have on a child.
Think about the multiple placements, the series of foster families,
the repeated reunions with parents unequipped to care or nurture,
and the time that ticks by as we shuffle paperwork between agencies
and our courtrooms.
Now think about the term "child protection system."
Can we really justify calling it that?
In addition to the "big picture," it's important to
think about what I call the "little picture," the stories
of our children. Although these stories are sometimes difficult
to hear, we must listen, because it is the stories of our children,
more than anything or anyone, that will be the catalyst for needed
change.
One such story is about a young man I know named Hank. Hank initially
came to my attention because his life story was featured in the
Star Tribune a year ago.
Hank spent his young life as an abused child. He was five years
old when he started changing his sister's diapers, and he taught
himself to cook so he and his sister could eat. He didn't know
his father, and his mother, a heavy drinker, frequently beat
Hank and his little sister. Between the ages of 11 and 18, he
was in two different foster homes, but never a permanent home.
Just as he became deeply attached to his first foster family,
he was torn up and moved to the second. Not willing to open himself
up for heartbreak again, he held the second family at arm's length,
hoping a "real," permanent family would want to adopt
him.
But it never happened. While he was never "reunified"
with his parents, the system never terminated the rights of his
parents. Instead, he "graduated" from foster care and
went on to college. As a student, Hank did OK in school, but
he excelled in sports and theater. He remembers in his freshman
year being offered a theater scholarship.
To put this in perspective, he was the first in his entire family
to go to college, let alone receive a scholarship.
The article in the Star Tribune described his phone call
to his mom like this: "I was on top of the world,"
Hank recalls, " and called my mom right away to tell her
the great news. She didn't say congratulations. The first words
out of her mouth were 'Well, I went bowling last night and bowled
a 162.' I hung up on her and cried for probably five days."
It was then, he claims, that he terminated his relationship
with his mother.
Still desperate for a family, he tracked down his birth father
in Milwaukee. His father was also a chronic alcoholic. Each of
the three times Hank visited him, his father asked him who he
was.
Finally, while he was in college, Hank began to accept the love
of his second foster family and decided to claim them as "permanent"
even though the child welfare system never told him he could.
Today, at age 25, although he still bears the scars of abuse
and longing for acceptance, he has been a social worker and now
a teacher, befriending and mentoring other abused and neglected
kids.
I think there are two things to learn from Hank's story. One
is that we as a system owe him an apology for never giving him
a home he could trust to be "permanent." Seven years
in limbo is torture to a child or a teen who needs to feel safe
and be loved unconditionally. Seven years is totally unacceptable
when he made it clear from age 11 on that he wanted a family.
To deepen your understanding of this -- just try to imagine your
own life without a family, without anyone you could trust to
love and support you
how would you function? Where would
you get your self-worth, your identity, your values? It's almost
too difficult to fathom -- yet for Hank and so many other children
-- it is a reality.
But Hank also teaches us to never lose hope. Hank's success should
give us all faith in the resilience of children, in the strength
of the human spirit and in the possibility for real change.
And I have great hope for our ability to improve child protection.
The Children's Justice Initiative is a major one for the court
system and for our state, and we will need your help to do it.
I am pleased to report that many of you have already stepped
up to the plate and offered your assistance in a variety of areas.
One facet of child protection that is in dire need right now
is our provision of guardians ad litem. Even though they are
required under federal law, state law and court rule, 40 percent
of children alleged to have been abused and neglected do not
have anyone appointed to represent their interests in court due
to significant shortages.
To help fill this gap in Hennepin and Ramsey counties, last year
we called on the bar at large, as well as area law firms and
local attorneys to volunteer their time on a pro bono basis and
become guardians. Twenty-one law firms and 128 volunteers accepted
what we called the "Pro Bono Challenge for Kids" and
are working toward becoming guardians.
The challenge was also extended beyond attorneys in the firms,
to paralegals, assistants, spouses and other family members.
One lawyer got her recently retired father involved. He had always
wanted to go to law school, but never realized his dream of being
an advocate in court -- until now. Today he serves as a volunteer
guardian ad litem on four separate cases. He is making a difference
in those children's lives. And he is making a difference in his
own life.
There is an old Chinese proverb that I keep close at hand to
describe the impact that serving others has on our lives. It
reads:
If you want to be happy for an hour, take a nap.
If you want to be happy for a day, go fishing.
If you want to be happy for a month, get married.
If you want to be happy for a year, inherit money.
If you want to be happy for a lifetime, serve others.
In closing, I will tell you that when I appear before you
at these bar conventions to give a State of the Judiciary speech,
it is always my hope to cast light on what the court system's
strategic priorities are and to identify the connections between
our priorities and your work. But my greater goal in addressing
you is to ask for your ideas, your expertise, and your partnership
as we improve the public's trust and confidence, provide greater
access to justice, ensure adequate technology, and implement
the Children's Justice Initiative.
I want you to know that I am very grateful for the enormous contributions
of the MSBA and its individual members. Your time, your service
and your commitment to the highest standards have made our system
of justice better and stronger. I am proud to be one of you.
Thank you. |
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