Child Advocate Shortage Puts Kids At Risk
May 27th, 2009
Too few local volunteers keeps Utah's neglected children in danger of slipping through the cracks
by Jacob Hodgen
I sit down on a metal chair in a white, concrete block room. Though I am not quite sure what the exact purpose of the building is, I can see that there are tall fences surrounding it and groups of escorted teenagers wearing uniforms are walking around outside. I think it's a detention facility.
Sitting next to me is Richard, a former businessman. "What are you doing here?" I ask him.
A Vietnam veteran, Richard left the country to serve as a humanitarian missionary for the LDS Church after he retired. He was sent to Cambodia, and he tells me that the trip changed his life. Now he's here talking with me on a different sort of mission. "After I saw how the kids were treated there, it got me thinking," he says. "When I got back, I found that kids in our country aren't always that much better off."
Richard still wants to help people, but instead of getting on plane this time, he is now preparing to travel a much different path--one that will lead him into a courtroom.
A new recruit in an all-too-small army of volunteers, Richard is completing his training that will soon allow him to serve as a Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) in the 4th district that covers the Utah Valley and beyond. "The local government is where you can voice your opinion and make a difference," he tells me. Though he traveled thousands of miles to offer service in the past, he now turns his attention to a need right here in his own backyard and offers his voice for underprivileged children. And the need is great.
"There is a responsibility we have," he tells me. "Sometimes we neglect ourselves."
There are about 20 people in the room with me. All of them are CASA volunteers or are training to become such. After a thorough background check, their training is intense, as they will be taking on a much different role than that of typical mentor. When it comes to child welfare services, the stakes are extremely high. By definition, children who are "institutionalized" and entered in the welfare system have had something terrible happen in their lives. While there are numerous state and federal organizations designed to care for and watch over them, the overwhelming numbers of neglected and abused children in Utah can sometimes lead to further catastrophe: getting lost or forgotten in the system.
This is where CASA comes in. CASA volunteers are trained to act as official advocates on behalf of children who cannot speak for themselves. Dee Knell is the CASA coordinator for the 4th district. She tells me the role of a volunteer is four-fold: "to advocate for the best interests of the child, facilitate resources, investigate needs and risks, and monitor progress within the legal system." CASA volunteers are assigned to one child at a time and are asked to contribute at least eight hours a month. Her district has 33 active volunteers, which unfortunately does not even begin to cover its basic needs. Right now, Dee reports there are over 800 children in her district alone in need of advocates. "The need is huge," she tells me.
The program has been remarkably successful. In 2007, the US Department of Justice released the results of an internal audit showing children with CASA volunteers were "substantially less likely to spend time in long-term foster care" and significantly more likely to be successfully adopted.
But all this is just legal jargon without the names and stories of the real children behind them. And there are no shortage of these.
Pamela Butcher was a "product" of the welfare system who was lucky enough to have a CASA appointed to her by the state. She writes, "I never had someone stand up for me like she did. She stood before the judge, the lawyers, my mother, and caseworkers and wasn't swayed by their opinions. It completely amazed me. I trusted her more with every visit and every call and found myself enjoying her check-ups and questioning. She became not only an advocate, but a friend I could truly count on. To give a child a CASA is to give them a voice. To give them a voice is to give them hope, and to give them hope is to give them the world."
After the meeting is over I chat with a volunteer tag team: Ashley and Anna. Best friends, they are both recent college graduates and work together on one of the most difficult cases in the area.
Ashley tells me that someday she wants to start a foundation to help kids. She says that when she was younger she watched as her nephew was taken by the Department of Children and Family Services. "I saw a lot of deficiencies," she tells me. "When I found out about CASA, I wanted to help. I feel like it gives me the opportunity to impact a child's life." Anna wants to be a clinical psychologist. She says that she saw some of her friends suffer abuse as a child, and sees CASA as a way to speak out for people who are too afraid to do so by themselves. She says that she respects people who offer their time as mentors, such as Big Brothers and Big Sisters, but she is glad to have the role of official advocate. "A mentorship is great, but it's limited. As a CASA, I can go to the court and make an actual difference. We are part of the law."
Dee says that many of the displaced children in Utah Valley are the result of substance or sexual abuse, and they range in age from infants to teenagers. She reports that the work of CASA volunteer is hard, but worth it: "Our biggest successes are when we can get kids reunified with their parents or safely placed with adoptive parents."
To learn about volunteering and helping local children, contact
Dee Knell
Office of Guardian ad Litem and CASA
32 W Center Street Ste 205
Provo UT, 84601
P: 801-344-8516
Or visit the national website:
