Jason Method is an investigative and computer projects reporter at the Asbury Park Press, where he has worked since 1994. His multi-part series “Childhood Lost: Problems at DYFS” appeared in the Press from October 2000 to November 2001. It can be viewed on the web at http://www.app.com/dyfs.

As of late January, a brightly decorated Christmas tree still stood proudly in the living room of Tami and Thomas Long’s small rancher in Berkeley Township. A dozen meticulously wrapped Christmas presents are waiting for their four children to return home from state foster care. They had hoped to have their nine-year-old daughter and three boys, ages six, four and one, returned home for Christmas, but the Long’s have found the process seems to drag on forever:

The irony is, if the “Long’s ever win back custody of their children there may be no home for them to come home to. The couple, who lost their children to foster care mainly because they were homeless, have rung up over $30,000 in bills trying to simultaneously fight and satisfy the state’s child protection agency. It is hard to imagine how they can keep their heads above water financially for much longer.

“We’re getting deeper in debt, and all we want is to get our children back,” Tami Long says. “We’ve done everything they’ve told us to. We’re not getting anywhere.”

The child protection agency involved with the Longs, the New Jersey Division of Youth and Family Services, is one of the state’s largest and most complex agencies. The oft-criticized Division has been under an intensive reform effort for the past four years after child advocates said it had hit bottom in the mid-1990’s and former Governor Christie Whitman commissioned a blue-ribbon commission to study the system.

Child advocates and professionals involved with the Division generally acknowledge that many needed reforms have been installed. Yet whether those reforms have filtered down to improve the lives of children and families has yet to be documented.

Although they are not unanimous, advocates and professionals generally believe better days are at hand for the children, families and foster parents in the DYFS system, though some additional reforms are needed. With a new administration in Trenton however, and a state budget crisis at hand, it remains unclear whether there will be continuing commitment to innovation, and funding to complete improvement at an agency charged with the Herculean task of protecting children from abuse or neglect, they say.

“Over the last several years there’s been an effort to stabilize the Division,” says Cecilia Zalkind, executive director of the Association for Children of New Jersey, a non-profit that studies and advocates on children’s issues. “(DYFS Director) Charlie Venti has done a good job in bringing stability. There was a lot of work to do when he came in. He’s rebuilt the infrastructure,” Zalkind adds.

Specifically, Zalkind credits Venti with working to increase the number of case workers and creating adoption resource centers to more quickly move adoption cases through the legal process to meet guidelines under a 1997 federal law. She also credits him with creating new programs to address particular needs, such as offering low-interest mortgages to foster and adoptive parents.

Zalkind reiterates a call to have the state consider splitting the $500 million-a-year agency in two: one part to continue the police-like task of investigating cases of abuse and neglect, the other to deliver services to families. “It’s time to do a re-examination of the Division’s mission and goals,” she says.

With the budget crisis unfolding in Trenton, Zalkind worries that any new initiatives at the agency will be designed more for the purpose of saving money and less for improving DYFS’s ability to do its job.

William Waldman, a former DYFS director and former Department of Human Services commissioner, disagrees with Zalkind’s call for creating two agencies. DYFS caseworkers do suffer from a conflict of interest; whether to act as investigators or work to help families, Waldman concedes. But a purely investigative agency would create a “family police” with the potential for abuses, he said.

Central to all discussions on how well DYFS is performing is the question of how to measure the agency’s performance in the first place. Therein often lies the rub. In October of 2000, I wrote a five-part series for The Asbury Park Press on how well DYFS had achieved its goals under its reform effort. The first story followed a simple blueprint. In its strategic plan, the Division had laid out a series of measurable goals for success; and I sought to simply follow up and measure the results.

I used a federal database of foster children to examine the New Jersey Division. The database, including statistics required to be reported under federal law, contained a wealth of information on foster children: race, sex, date of birth, date they were taken into state custody, how many foster homes or facilities they had been in, the reason they were removed from the home, the race and age of their parents, and a host of other information.

The series also used many DYFS-generated figures as well. Overall, the examination found, at that point, there had been little measurable progress from the then two-year-old reform effort.

But what seemed at first like a simple undertaking became an introduction to three-dimensional statistical chess. Division officials in New Jersey disputed how the federal database was compiled. Some numbers, they said, represented a snapshot in time, where longitudinal research would have been better. The Division also said they did not correctly report some of the numbers in the database to the federal government.

Such apples and oranges data issues also make it extremely difficult to assess the progress of New Jersey as measured against the performance of child welfare organizations in other states.

While the Division will verbally quote statistics to reporters, it has not publicly released a performance or progress report since July 1999. Even this report, all of one page in length, was heavily disputed by experts and advocates.

Last July, DYFS did release three reports prepared by a well-known Chicago child welfare expert. The reports chronicled problems such as boarder babies---babies taken from mothers right after birth, usually because they are drug or alcohol exposed in the womb. But the reports did not purport to be a Division-wide analysis.

There are still no plans to release a Division performance report, according to DYFS spokesman Joseph Delmar. Delmar notes that Gov. McGreevey appointee, Acting Human Services Commissioner Gwendolyn Long Harris, has just begun her new job and a decision on the performance report has yet to be made.

Waldman says he believes DYFS would ultimately benefit by releasing data on the agency’s performance. “The issue with DYFS is that there are rules regarding confidentiality. But there is {also} an issue of accountability. It’s a useful and a positive thing to release aggregate data,” Waldman says.

“Running DYFS is one of the most significant challenges any manager will ever take on,” Waldman adds. “It’s easy to attack agencies like the Division. But the more they reach out for public understanding and support, the more success they’ll have. Their success depends on the full cooperation of the public.”

DYFS’s statistical problems are in part due to the lack of a top-line computer system. DYFS has four computer systems, which cannot always talk to each other, Division officials have said. DYFS, for example, cannot track how many boarder babies end up going back to their mothers and how many are in long-term foster care.

Under federal guidelines, the Division is supposed to install a centralized computer system. It is one of the last such state agencies in the country to do so. Yet because of state budget cuts, the centralized computer system project remains on hold, according to DYFS. It is under consideration for the state fiscal year 2002-2003 budget.

When former Acting Gov. Donald T. DiFrancesco took office in January 2001, he announced that children’s issues would be the centerpiece of his administration. He held roundtable discussions throughout the state and implemented new programs.

Two important new laws related to DYFS grew out of this effort. The first gave relatives of children who would otherwise be in foster care the right to obtain legal guardianship. Child welfare experts hail guardianship as a boon to child protection agencies, because the arrangement provided for a permanent home and gets the case off the state’s rolls.

The second piece of legislation, sponsored by Sen. Diane Allen, R-Burlington, provided $12 million to hire more caseworkers and extend raises to current caseworkers, including giving a $5,000 boost to their starting salaries. The new law also provided for a new commission to examine DYFS’s staffing needs. Union leaders for the caseworkers, who had complained bitterly about caseloads that sometimes reached 70 to 100 children in urban areas hailed the new funding as a breakthrough. (Recently, DYFS had 128 openings for caseworkers out of 1,646 positions. The Division has hired 97 caseworkers since October and caseworkers have begun receiving new raises.)

Advocates such as Zalkind say they expect both initiatives, once fully implemented, will help lift the Division to better performance. A DYFS spokesman said the raises and hiring are going forward despite the state budget crunch.

Beyond the endless numbers and the give-and-take between state officials and advocates, another---albeit unscientific--- way to check the vital signs of the Division might be through listening to those interacting with the system.

In response to my series, which continued through much of 2001, I received literally hundreds of telephone calls, letters and e-mails from parents, foster parents, caseworkers and others involved with DYFS.

Some quickly demonstrated the need for an agency such as DYFS. There was the woman who, despite restraining orders, allowed her drug-addicted boyfriend back in her apartment, where he beat her in front of her two small children. She couldn’t understand why DYFS took the kids away.

But then there were other stories from people, like the Long’s, who had stable marriages, lengthy work histories, and whose tales of woe at the hands of the agency seemed more credible.

Some consistent complaints emerged, such as the stories about caseworkers who told parents under investigation that they should sign a voluntary placement agreement if they wanted to ever see their children again. Signing such an agreement would save the caseworkers from having to go to court to remove children, and save later trips required to meet court deadlines. But a voluntary placement agreement, which is enforced for six to nine months unless revoked by the parents, also signs away their right to a court hearing and allows the case to be managed with much less outside oversight.

Thomas Long, 45, earns $24,000 a year as an irrigation company repairman and clearly has trouble supporting a family of five on such a wage. Tami Long, 32, has worked intermittently, spending much of her time trying to care for her family.

According to court papers filed in the case, DYFS caseworkers have investigated the Longs repeatedly over five years for issues largely related to household cleanliness and proper clothing for the children. The Longs say those issues stem from housing problems and lack of money.

Caseworkers removed the Long’s children after the couple had been evicted from their one-bedroom apartment and were living in a motel. DYFS said one of the children had been left alone, although Tami Long says she had asked an acquaintance to look after the child while she left to pay a bill.

“He started yelling at me. I didn’t understand what he was saying. I asked him to slow down and explain exactly what he was telling me,” Thomas said. “He just says, we want you to come in and sign this paper. If I didn’t sign the paper, they were going to take us to court and take our parental rights away.”

The Long’s signed the paperwork. Four of their children were placed in state foster care, and one was placed with a family friend.

DYFS spokesman Delmar said he could not comment on the Longs case because of confidentiality rules. In general, according to Delmar, DYFS policy is not to force parents into signing agreements.

DYFS policy prohibits threatening parents into signing placement agreements. But exactly how such discussions go inside the interview room depends on who is telling the story, said Mary Coogan, director of Children’s Legal Resource Center at ACNJ.

“I have heard that parents feel strong-armed. I have also heard from the division’s perspective that they’re laying out the reality of the situation,” Coogan says. “Everyone should be fully informed of each option and what happens with each option. That’s not always done. Part of it is because it’s an emergency, part of it is because caseworkers are not trained, part of it is trying to keep caseloads down.”

Waldman said voluntary agreements were a controversial issue when he served as DYFS director from 1987 to 1989 and when he served as human services commissioner and assistant commissioner under former governors Kean, Florio and Whitman.

“A lot of clients are poor and do not have access to legal representation. There is an effort [at DYFS] to let them have their day in court,” states Waldman. “It does make the work harder,” he adds, “because the caseworker has to fill out the paperwork and appear in court. But it is better.”

Nonetheless, voluntary placements have not diminished. The number of children in DYFS care under the voluntary agreements as of January1998 was 5,654, or 64 percent of the children in care. By January 2002 that number was6, 489, or 61 percent of the children in care, according to DYFS.

The Longs eventually revoked their voluntary agreement and decided to fight for their rights in court even as they simultaneously attempted to satisfy DYFS. Tami Long had a public defender appointed to represent her, but Thomas Long did not qualify because he makes to much money. Parents must be appointed separate attorneys in DYFS cases because their legal interests can be at odds.

Like many others who responded to my Asbury Park Press series, the Longs describe their search for a private attorney as akin to someone looking for an auto mechanic after their car breaks down on a major holiday. Numerous attorneys declined to discuss the case with them, they say.

One Toms River attorney they met with, for a $50 fee, told them the best thing to do was not to hire an attorney because fighting DYFS was futile. It might have been the best advice they ever received.

The Longs did mange to hire another Toms River attorney. They now have a file folder full of letters the attorney has sent, trying to answer DYFS’s complaints and move the case along. They also have $7600 in legal bills. The attorney has stopped representing Thomas Long because the Longs can no longer pay.

Michelle Hammel, state deputy public defender, says parents who have had their children removed are doing much better legally than they were two years ago. Pool attorneys being paid $25 to $30 an hour from the public defender’s office represent about 85 percent of these parents.

Moreover, she says, judges have been liberal in granting public defenders to poor parents. The Judges consider the parents’ overall economic situation instead of strictly relying on the guidelines of 125 percent of federal poverty level, Hammel says.

Previously, indigent parents were appointed pro bono attorneys, putting the parents at a far greater disadvantage legally, Hammel says, because child protection laws and case precedent are so complex. “This is an area of law that if you’re not familiar with the rules, of course things are weighed in favor of the state,” she says.

But for those parents, like Thomas Long, who need or want to hire their own attorney, both Coogan and Hammel agree that this could be a nearly impossible task. Very few attorneys specialize in child protection cases, they say. Even for family court attorneys, DYFS cases require so much research into the law, court precedents and case specifics that legal bills can quickly run out of reach.

“Some attorneys shy away from taking DYFS cases because they don’t have enough experience in DYFS matters and they don’t feel comfortable advising a client,” Coogan says. “Or for people who are on the economic borderline, they may shy away because they feel it’s a losing case money wise.”

While their case has dragged on, the Longs have managed to purchase a $94,000 house in Berkeley, all on various forms of credit. They met several times with a psychologist to provide further input to DYFS, and they completed anger management and parenting classes on their own dime. They proudly display their six certificates earned from these classes.

Yet DYFS continues to insist on more and more in order for them to get their children back, the Longs say. So they, like hundreds of others, have decided to try and find somebody who will hear their plight. But they have found nowhere to go, and like many others end up citing a litany of elected-officials they have written to or called: their local Assemblymen and State Senators, the Governor’s office, their U.S. Representative and Senators, the President and, finally, the newspapers. This is not to mention the scores of calls and letters they have made to those in the DYFS and Department of Human Services hierarchy.

Sen. Leonard Connors, R-Ocean, proposed to create an office of Ombudsman for DYFS last legislative for action on ones deemed legitimate. “There’s got to be a person that parents can talk to with regard to, at times, the heavy hand of DYFS,” Connors says. “Someone who can look into these matters.”

Connors vows to reintroduce the legislation. DYFS says that MacGreevey’s proposed public advocate would fill such a role. Connors responds that he believes only an office focused on the complex issues of child custody and abuse cases could be an adequate watchdog.

Meanwhile, the Longs sit and wait, and they wonder what else they need to do to get their children back soon and move on with their lives. At court in late January, Thomas Long says the judge indicated the Longs should get the kids back, but that hoped for conclusion has been postponed because a caseworker has left on extended leave and no one else has taken over the case yet. The Longs Christmas tree is now gone, but the holiday gifts still await their children in a bedroom.