CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES STILL OVERWHELMED BY CASES

Despite millions of new dollars and the addition of 114 social worker
positions, Sacramento County's Child Protective Services remains
overwhelmed by a heightened volume of cases, delaying children's moves
into permanent homes and increasing the chance they will be irrepa
rably harmed in the process.

The number of children living outside their homes in the system has
nearly doubled -- to more than 6,000 -- since a policy change 18
months ago toward zero tolerance of drug use by parents. But many of
the new CPS positions created to handle the influx have gone unfilled.

Officials said they are desperate to hire social workers, but stymied
by an especially flush statewide job market. Sacramento County's high
caseload, almost twice the state standard for each employee, makes it
less desirable than other agencies.

"They just can't do the quality or the amount of work necessary to
ensure the best outcome," said Jim Hunt, director of the Department of
Health and Human Services, which includes CPS. "Many times, social
workers are just going through the legally required process to get to
the next step" and move the files off their desks.

Meanwhile, the oversight of vulnerable children continues to bog down,
and attorneys for parents and children are raising serious questions
about social worker qualifications.

Many new hires have come straight from college and were trained on the
job. Some attorneys say these workers are ill-qualified to decide
whether a parent is capable of caring for children.

"What they're neglecting to realize is that it's all about these
kids," said a mother of three, whose children are in foster care
because officials say they saw their father beat their mom and
because he used drugs. "The longer they keep the kids from me, the
more they're hurting them."

But the county has had little choice. In May 1997, after Adrian Conway
and Rebecca Meza were killed by drug-addicted parents under CPS
monitoring, the agency began mandating that children living with drug
abusers be removed.

That policy shift doubled the number of new children entering the
system from roughly 200 a month to about 400.

The volume most affects family reunification caseworkers, who have the
delicate job of deciding whether parents can be rehabilitated and
reunited with their children or whether those ties should be severed.

Some oversee more than 50 cases, nearly twice the state recommendation
of 27, forcing them to run from deadline to deadline, skimp on quality
care and keep children in the system longer, according to an advocate
for children, attorneys for their parents and social workers themselves.

The pressure is so great that employee turnover has been at least 50
percent in the last 18 months, according to Geri Wilson, the family
reunification manager. Her unit houses 100 of CPS' 419 social worker
positions.

"You don't know how frustrating it is to work in this environment,"
Wilson said. "People become social workers because they want to do a
good job. They want to be able to make a difference, and there isn't
the opportunity to do that here right now."

For nearly two years, social workers have struggled to keep afloat
amid wave after wave of new children. Now, the monthly CPS intake has
leveled off at about 300, according to Wilson.

But a bulk of the influx remains lodged in family reunification, where
parents typically are given 18 months to prove they are fit or lose
their children permanently.

"At 30 cases, we could take care of individual issues," said social
worker Barbara Patten, a 16-month veteran of the family reunification
unit. Of 21 people who were hired with Patten, only eight remain.
Currently, she has 42 cases; at one time, she had 53.

"At 42, we put out fires. At 53, you shuffle paper," she said. "You
must be very organized and very flexible. A lot of people can't keep
it together."

Ideally, a caseworker evaluates each child's housing options -- all
the relatives and foster homes available -- and chooses one that best
supports the child. Instead, many children are placed in the first
available home, and some end up in foster care because relatives
aren't immediately available. Some have been placed with foster
parents who don't speak their language.

More and more cases force siblings to live apart, which social workers
say can further traumatize displaced children.

In a perfect world, social workers could visit children twice or more
a month, see parents at home to discuss progress in drug treatment and
therapy, and be available to approve special visits for birthdays or
holidays. They would be familiar enough with parents to realize they
were faltering and to intervene.

Patten said many noncompliant parents likely could eventually regain
their children if they had more one-on-one contact with social workers.

But that is not possible.

Harried workers say they are hard-pressed to visit their clients more
than an hour each month. They don't have time to visit children
outside foster homes, draw them into personal conversation or get
beyond a basic list of questions.

They barely have time to review files to see if parents are attending
drug testing, parenting classes and other mandated programs before
writing recommendations to judges about reunification.

It used to be rare that cases were extended in court because services
had not yet been provided to parents within the first six months. No
longer, according to attorney Mike Hansell, who oversees Sacramento
Child Advocates, a nonprofit agency that represents children who are
placed into protective custody. He estimated half the cases in court
are somehow stalled.

"Ultimately it delays getting the families back together," he said.
"Or, if they can't get back together, it delays the adoption process."

The effect on children, he said, is continued disruption as they are
bounced from temporary home to temporary home.

"It's very destructive," Hansell said. "They can't attach to a
caretaker. And it sets up a lot of false expectations for the children
who think it's going to be a fairly short time until their parents can
get back together with them. There's a lot of disappointment for them."

Attorney Scott Castillo, who represents parents, said clients often
complain that social workers do not return phone calls. When Castillo
has followed up, he's found their voice mail systems are full. When
social workers are ill or on vacation, he said, nobody checks their
calls or monitors their cases.

But Castillo's biggest concern, and that of his colleagues, is that
the constant churn of family reunification workers virtually ensures
some clients will face setbacks even if they go to therapy and
parenting classes.

The mother who lost her children after allegations that they witnessed
spousal abuse is frantic that she will not satisfy her new social
worker. Her efforts have included leaving her husband.

The mother said the social worker was reluctant to approve a special
Christmas visit because it involved extra work.

"Maybe she's just overwhelmed by this whole thing," said the mother,
who said her youngest daughter asked recently if she was going to be
adopted by a new mommy and daddy.

Lawyer Stephen Nelson, who also represents parents, cites a case in
which a mother was a longtime methamphetamine user. Her children were
taken away and her husband arrested. In the 11 months it took his
case to come to trial, the woman quit using drugs and began working
toward getting her children back.

But her case was transferred to four different social workers in that
time. In each instance, she had to build a rapport and prove she was
complying.

"A lot of the new ones have no familiarity with the court system,"
said Nelson.

He expressed frustration with social workers who are afraid to follow
their own judgment. While judges give caseworkers discretion to
increase the number or length of parental visits -- expecting that
parents who are following court orders will be rewarded -- many social
workers refuse to modify the schedule until a judge OKs it, typically
at a hearing scheduled after six months.

Hunt, Sacramento County's Department of Health and Human Services
director, said he is acutely aware of the problems.

But despite the additional $14 million and 114 new social worker
positions, he still has 72 vacancies, 17 percent of the entire CPS
staff. Twenty-nine social workers are in the hiring process.

Hunt said he has been unable to attract master's degree graduates
because most of California's other counties also have huge needs for
social workers, as do mental health agencies and private social
service providers or drug rehabilitation programs.

Many qualified candidates, and many of Sacramento's new hires who have
fled, are choosing agencies with smaller caseloads even if they pay
far less than the county's entry-level $37,000 annually.

"There's just not enough (candidates) to go around," said
Hunt.

At this point, he hopes county supervisors will let him fill the
vacancies with bachelor's degree holders and then require them to
attend an accelerated master's program.

"If we had those positions filled, it would be manageable," Hunt said.
"But now, the social workers are trying to do what's expeditious
instead of doing what's in the best interest of the child.

"We find things (done poorly) every time we dig: 'Oh geez, that's
what's happening?' People say, 'There are three emergencies on my desk
and I have to get through it.' So we push them through as fast as we
can.

"It's horrible."