Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Recession takes its toll on kinship caregivers

'Grandfamilies' Come Under Pressure
Tough Economy Adds to the Strains on Americans Raising Grandchildren

Lagnado, Lucette. Wall Street Journal, April 4, 2009.

PORT JERVIS, N.Y. -- Until she lost her job last September, Wendy Nocar denied nothing to her granddaughter, Summer, whom she has raised since she was a baby. The blonde 6-year-old was plied with Barbie dolls, clothes, ballet lessons, trips to the mall, and outings to Broadway shows and her favorite restaurant, Red Lobster.

These days, Ms. Nocar, 57, unable to land a job interview much less a job, is worried about stocking the refrigerator and paying her mortgage. She is also fearful of being unable to support Summer, who she says was born addicted to heroin, and who has been in her custody since infancy.

Summer is anxious about her grandmother's situation. "We don't have a lot of money," says the first-grader, whose pictures adorn the cluttered three-bedroom house she inhabits with her grandmother, two cats, a dog and a rabbit named Whiskers. "We need a lot of money; she has to get a job," Summer adds.

Summer Nocar sits on her bedroom floor looking at her shells with her grandmother, Wendy Nocar, in Port Jervis, N.Y.

"She seems to understand a lot more than children do her age," Ms. Nocar says.

Today, more and more children are being raised by their grandparents. These grandparents provide a crucial safety net, allowing children whose parents can't provide for them to remain in families, instead of winding up as wards of the state. But as the recession hits "grandfamilies," that safety net is under stress.

The unemployment rate for older workers is lower than the overall rate. But once they become unemployed, older workers find it harder to land a job and they tend to remain out of work longer than younger workers, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The unemployment rate for those 55 and over has been climbing significantly in recent months; in March, it rose to 6.2% -- the highest it has been since September, 1949, according the bureau.

At the same time, the number of grandfamilies has been growing. In 1970, about 3% of all children under 18 lived in households headed by a grandparent. By 2007, 4.7 million kids -- or 6.5% of American children -- were living in households headed by a grandparent, according to Census Bureau data. This shift was driven by a variety of factors, including more parents hit by drug use, AIDS or cancer, and the large numbers of single parents who, if struck by tragedy, leave children behind.

Not all of these grandparents are sole caregivers, says Kenneth Bryson, a director at Generations United, a Washington nonprofit, "but most are making important contributions," providing "substantial care so that the parents can work or go to school."

Nationwide, about 20% of grandparents or other relatives get grants to help care for children they are raising. Amounts vary; in New York, it averages about $5,000 a year, says Gerard Wallace, an attorney who heads New York's Kinship Navigator program, which helps grandparent caregivers. By contrast, the average cost to the state of one child in non-specialized foster care is $22,000 per year in New York, he says.

If one million children being raised by relatives were to enter foster care, it would cost taxpayers more than $6.5 billion each year, according to a 2005 report by Generations United.

Agencies that work with grandparents are seeing a spike in requests for emergency assistance -- to help pay rent and heating bills or buy winter clothes for children. Ms. Nocar, for instance, is one of many Americans facing both the loss of a job and steep payments for a second mortgage.

A $1 million fund in Washington state to help grandparents is running out of money because of the crush of demand. In Tucson, Ariz., a similar, $147,000 fund that was supposed to last through June was so rapidly depleted in recent months, that it's now gone. In Tampa and Chicago, agencies are helping caregivers who bought homes, but now can't keep up with mortgage payments and risk having no place to live with their grandchildren.

"This is the worst we've ever seen," says Hilari Hauptman, who administers Washington state's fund, established five years ago. "We're hearing of cases where grandfathers who are the families' breadwinner are losing their jobs, of grandmothers who are raising multiple grandchildren and are close to losing their homes to foreclosures."

Allen Bringard, an Everett, Wash., carpet-layer raising a 2-year-old granddaughter and a 15-year-old grandson, came to the attention of Ms. Hauptman's fund in December, as he faced an eviction notice on his apartment. Until recently, Mr. Bringard, 56, had his own small business installing carpets, and he and his wife lived in relative comfort. But as the economy stalled last year and fewer homes were being built, he found himself with less work. "People aren't buying carpets, and that was my trade," he says.

In September, one of his clients failed to pay -- which meant Mr. Bringard couldn't pay the rent. He became "desperate," he says, when he was served with eviction papers, and authorities said they might have to temporarily remove his granddaughter, Shelby, until his situation improved, saying she had to be in a stable home.

"She is the joy of our heart -- losing her would have been like having your own child ripped out of your hands," he says. An emergency grant from the Washington fund enabled him to hold on to the apartment for now. Mr. Bringard says he recently lost his part-time job and is looking for work again.

Losing Summer is Ms. Nocar's greatest fear. She has legal custody, but worries that if she can't find a job -- and can't support Summer -- authorities could take the child away and place her in foster care. "They ask in court, 'how are you going to support this kid?'" she says. "A parent can lose a job and be homeless and still take their child with them, but not a grandparent."

David Jolly, commissioner of the Department of Social Services in Orange County, N.Y., where Ms. Nocar lives, says that while he understands the worries of grandparents, it wouldn't be the practice of his county "to do a removal based on an economic situation." In considering a child's situation, he says "money isn't nearly as important as love."

Summer has lived with Ms. Nocar since she was a month old. Her father is Ms. Nocar's son. Summer was born addicted to heroin, according to papers filed by Ms. Nocar with Family Court in Orange County, in Goshen, N.Y. Ms. Nocar recalls going to see the baby every day in the neo-natal intensive care unit and falling in love with her. State authorities prepared to find the baby a foster home or put her up for adoption.

Ms. Nocar didn't want to lose the child to strangers. In October 2002, she brought Summer home in a bassinet.

"What are you going to do with a baby?" she recalls her own mother saying. "Raise her," she replied.

It was rough going at first, to be a middle-aged, single parent, caring for an infant. At 51, Ms. Nocar found herself getting up in the middle of the night for feedings.

Summer was a delicate child, prone to colds and ear infections. She has also been diagnosed with severe attention deficit disorder, her grandmother says. Medication could possibly help, but Ms. Nocar is adamant: "She has had enough drugs," she says.

In the years when Ms. Nocar was prospering, she liked spoiling the little girl. For Summer's fifth birthday party, she hired a magician. She took her to the mall to shop for "girlie girl" clothes.

At her most recent job, she worked as an engineer designing containers for the food-service industry. Ms. Nocar says she earned about $38,000 a year, enough to get by in her small town. At Christmas, they took a theater outing to New York City, about two hours from home. At least once a week, they went out to dinner. Summer loved to chat up the waitresses of Red Lobster, a restaurant she nicknamed the "Big Crab."

Now, Ms. Nocar can't afford to take her out to eat. She doesn't buy one of Summer's favorite treats -- packages of string cheese -- because of the cost. Summer asked to see the Broadway version of "The Little Mermaid" for Christmas, since she was used to going to shows; her grandmother had to say no. Ms. Nocar's friends now bring over large bags of used clothing.

Ms. Nocar says her granddaughter likes rummaging through the bags and picking out items. But Summer understands the difference between new and hand-me-downs. Asked how her life has changed since her grandmother stopped working, she replies:

"I like to get stuff of my own, like clothes. Now I get stuff from other people."

Why, she is asked?

"You know why," Summer replies. "Because we are poor."

Ms. Nocar has been struggling to find work in a tough market. She doesn't have a formal engineering degree, so she is expanding the kinds of jobs she'll pursue. Her Work Search Record, the form that she must fill out to get unemployment benefits, lists dozens of jobs she has sought -- at employment agencies, consulting firms, temp agencies, Home Depot.

In the column marked "Result of Contact," she scribbles "No jobs," or "Not hiring" or "No response." After sending out more than 55 feelers on-line, by phone or in person, she says she has yet to be called to an interview.

The fact that she is in her late 50s makes her worry whether she is employable. "Is there going to be any use for me?" she says.

Many older workers who lose their jobs drop out of the work force, believing their efforts are hopeless. The number of people 55 and older classified by the federal government as "discouraged" -- meaning they've given up looking for work because they don't think there are any jobs for them -- nearly tripled from December 2007 to December 2008, to 154,000 from 53,000, according to the AARP Public Policy Institute.

Ms. Nocar is contemplating running a day-care center out of her home. Or perhaps selling knick-knacks at a flea market; her house is filled with boxes of items she hopes to sell, including furniture. She's also considering training in the medical field, one of the few sectors with jobs in the area. She has been seeking positions that pay close to what she once made, but says, "if it comes down to it, I will take any job."

Her priority is to keep up her mortgage payments. Ms. Nocar says she bought the house -- built in the 1890s -- in the early 1990s for about $90,000 and had a mortgage payment of about $800 to $900 a month. She decided to refinance to get a lower interest rate but also borrowed money against the house to pay off debts.

Two years ago, Ms. Nocar says, Countrywide Financial approached her with the possibility of getting more cash by taking out another mortgage. She says she resisted, at first. "I didn't want that second mortgage, but they kept calling; they kept telling me 'you could afford it.'[nbsp ]"

"What if I lose my job?" She recalls asking them. She says that she was reassured she had plenty of credit.

A spokesman for Countrywide, which was acquired last year by Bank of America Corp., couldn't discuss specifics but said the loan was made appropriately. "The loan is made based on the current employment. We can't predict the economy, we can't predict whether she will have a job at some point in the future," he said.

Ms. Nocar says she took out a second mortgage in 2007, obtaining about $35,000 in cash. The first mortgage required her to pay 5.875% interest, the second mortgage carried an interest rate of 10.625%.

Her payment now -- of about $1,600 a month -- has been tough to manage since losing her job. Her unemployment, of about $1,450 a month, doesn't cover it, but she has a boarder, which helps. And she receives a grant of $411 from the state to help care for Summer.

Ms. Nocar says she doesn't qualify for food stamps or Medicaid, although Summer is covered by Medicaid. Ms. Nocar says she was forced to drop her own health coverage this month, because she could no longer afford it, and is struggling to pay her utility bill. Though she says she is usually even-keeled, in recent days she has broken down and cried twice. "I am scared now," she says.

One option is to make Summer a ward of the state and become a foster grandparent. Under that arrangement, Summer could still live at home, and the state would pay benefits, upwards of $600 a month, and possibly more because of her struggles with attention deficit disorder, according to Mr. Wallace, of New York's Kinship Navigator program.

But there are drawbacks. Ms. Nocar worries that authorities would be constantly checking on her.

Ms. Nocar meets regularly with other grandparents who are raising grandchildren, as part of a support program of the Cornell University Cooperative Extension, an educational nonprofit in Middletown, N.Y.

And she has turned to her own mother, who is 79, for help. Ms. Nocar's mom, Sally Goldberg, has moved next door. Late last year, she gave her daughter a bond worth $8,400 that Ms. Nocar has since cashed and used to pay household expenses. The great-grandmother also helps support Summer in other ways -- she pays for ballet lessons, buys her the string cheese she loves, and recently purchased a bedroom set for the little girl. "We have a good time together, Summer and I," she says.

As for her own daughter, Ms. Goldberg says: "She is my heroine."

Summer tells her grandmother she has a solution for their recent woes: "I want you to get a lot of money."

6 million children being raised by their grandparents in USA

Raising Grandchildren in a Recession
Farley, Susan. The New York Times, April 6, 2009.

Every family struggles in a tough economy, but the recession poses unique problems for people raising their grandchildren.

Some six million kids, representing about 8 percent of American children, live with their grandparents, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. The recession is hitting these “grandfamilies” especially hard, The Wall Street Journal reports.

Today, more and more children are being raised by their grandparents. These grandparents provide a crucial safety net, allowing children whose parents can’t provide for them to remain in families, instead of winding up as wards of the state.

But as the recession hits “grandfamilies,” that safety net is under stress. The unemployment rate for older workers is lower than the overall rate. But once they become unemployed, older workers find it harder to land a job and they tend to remain out of work longer than younger workers, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

The unemployment rate for those 55 and over has been climbing significantly in recent months; in March, it rose to 6.2 percent — the highest it has been since September, 1949, according the bureau….

Many older workers who lose their jobs drop out of the work force, believing their efforts are hopeless. The number of people 55 and older classified by the federal government as “discouraged” — meaning they’ve given up looking for work because they don’t think there are any jobs for them — nearly tripled from December 2007 to December 2008, to 154,000 from 53,000, according to the AARP Public Policy Institute.

The medical literature is mixed on the health effects of raising grandchildren. Some studies show that raising your grandchildren takes a toll on your health. Not only is the job physically tiring, but grandparents who are raising young children often suffer from less sleep and exposure to childhood colds and have less time to take care of themselves. At the same time, some grandparents enjoy raising their grandchildren and believe it makes them more active and connected.

To learn more about the recession and grandparents, read the full story, “‘Grandfamilies’ Come Under Pressure.”

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

NY youth aging out of foster care at risk of homelessness

Study Reveals Harsh Life for Homeless Youth in New York
Bosman, Julie. NY Times, March 9, 2009.

Many homeless youths in New York City are victims of abuse who grew up in foster care or other institutions and now lack jobs, a high school education, birth certificates and adequate health care, according to a study to be released on Tuesday.

And the study, one of the largest-ever examinations of young homeless people in New York, found that their future did not look much better — because they are dangerously isolated from mainstream channels of work, family life and basic schooling.

The study, conducted by Covenant House, which operates shelters for young people, examined 444 people between the ages of 18 and 21 who entered the Covenant House Crisis Center between October 2007 and February 2008.

Forty-seven percent of the group said they had been disciplined physically before entering the shelter, 37 percent said they had been victims of physical abuse, and 19 percent had endured sexual abuse. Forty-one percent said they had witnessed violence in their homes.

The vast majority said they found it difficult or impossible to find a good job. Seventy-eight percent said they were unemployed when they entered the shelter. Among those who had jobs, 41 percent said those jobs were “off the books.”

Kevin M. Ryan, the president of Covenant House, a privately financed agency with facilities in 20 cities nationwide, including Philadelphia, Detroit, Newark and St. Louis, said he hoped the study alerted the public “to the growing crisis of homeless youth in New York City.”

“It is a wake-up call to all of us that we have to be incredibly vigilant on behalf of our kids,” Mr. Ryan said. “Especially in a time of economic crisis, when families are feeling stress and strain that, in many instances, can cause kids to become even more disconnected from school and work and family.”

Adding to the urgency, Mr. Ryan said, was the recent discovery that the number of young homeless people seeking shelter at Covenant House had increased by one-third in the past year.

In 2007, a study by the Empire State Coalition of Youth and Family Services, an advocacy group in New York, found that on any given night, roughly 3,800 homeless young people were on the street in New York.

Severe cuts in the state budget are threatening the financing for many programs for runaways and homeless youths across the state, said Margo Hirsch, the executive director of the Empire State Coalition. “Every single one of these programs is going to be affected,” Ms. Hirsch said.

Carol L. M. Caton, a professor of clinical public health at Columbia University and the director of the Columbia Center for Homelessness Prevention Studies, which helped sponsor the 2009 study, said the report exposed at least three major areas that were ripe for further research. They are family relationships, and the events within families that might force a young person out; the impact of institutional experiences like foster care placement; and the challenge of connecting youths to the work force, she said.

“They’re just on the cusp of adulthood,” Dr. Caton said. “And we want to help them transition to adulthood in a way that is positive, so that they won’t go on and continue to have some of these bruising experiences.”

Nearly half of the youths who participated in the 2009 study said they had been arrested, 15 percent had been convicted, and 4 percent were on probation or parole. Twenty-nine percent said they drank alcohol, 20 percent reported using marijuana on a regular basis, and 36 percent said someone in their family used drugs regularly.

Mr. Ryan said he was concerned that after leaving the shelter, where youths typically stay for just under three months, they would enter the adult homeless system, which can be harsh for teenagers — or even worse, they could “slide into gang affiliation, drugs and despair.”

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Child abuse prevention is less costly for society

For Mother and Child at Risk, Care That Includes a Psychologist

Tarkan, Laurie. The New York Times, Feb. 14, 2009.

When she became pregnant, her grandmother offered to buy her a car if she would have an abortion. Other relatives told her the baby would not live to see its first birthday. She was 22, unmarried and had already been hospitalized several times for suicide attempts.

She gave birth to a boy, and when he was 1 week old, the young woman, who spoke on the condition that she not be named, brought him to a pediatric practice at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx for a checkup. A doctor recommended that she join an infant-parent psychotherapy group; instead she agreed to home visits.

In the presence of a psychologist, the young woman wondered aloud if she was sexually arousing the baby when she changed his diaper; said the newborn was “demanding,” “mean” and “hates men”; and eventually revealed that she had been sexually abused as a girl.

“She was mistrusting and so overwhelmed, and needed much more help,”
said Rahil D. Briggs, the hospital psychologist who worked with the young woman at her home. After three months of home visits, Dr. Briggs persuaded the mother to join group therapy twice a week.

“Without this bridge, and me having the flexibility to go to her home and have her gain my trust, she never would have come to the group,” the psychologist said. “And if she hadn’t, with her set of risk factors, who knows what would have happened to her son? He is securely attached to her, and in my opinion it’s fairly close to a miracle.”

The group is part of a new effort by the Children’s Hospital to protect young children from psychological damage that can be common in poor families.

Experts say Montefiore’s new program is a rare example of mental health services for children under 5, a population that Evelyn Blanck, co-president of the New York Zero to Three Network, described as “under the radar screen.” Many pediatricians are not trained to recognize psychological problems, and surveys show that parents often complain about physicians’ lack of support for behavioral issues.

“There is really a disconnect between the genuine needs and challenges that are facing our young children and their families and what doctors are providing,” said Dr. Dina Lieser, executive director of Docs for Tots, a nonprofit group that advocates for young children.

The National Academy of Sciences released a report on Friday calling on federal, state and local governments to make prevention of mental, emotional and behavioral disorders in young people “a very high priority.” The report called the current emphasis on treatment once mental disorders emerge as “myopic,” and said that prevention means focusing on people with early symptoms and risks, such as maternal depression or poverty.

At Montefiore’s pediatric practice, the Comprehensive Family Care Center, there is a psychologist on site, and doctors — who are trained to recognize depression in parents — screen each patient for mental health concerns. Of 2,400 children screened since 2005, 1,120 have been recommended for mental health services, and 780 have participated.

The screening program currently costs the city $20,000 to $30,000 a year; therapy is generally covered by Medicaid. The Altman Foundation has covered the $150,000 yearly cost for a separate program, known as Healthy Steps, which since 2006 has screened 250 families at the family care center and provided individual and group counseling.

In Healthy Steps at Montefiore, which is part of a national program, 20 percent of the mothers are teenagers, 27 percent grew up in foster care, 37 percent have parents with mental illness, and more than 10 percent were physically or sexually abused — all risk factors for their babies’ healthy mental and social development, according to Dr. Briggs. Research shows that environmental factors like poverty, homelessness, domestic violence and drugs can lead to depression, anxiety, aggression, poor academic performance, autistic behavior and social or developmental delays.

“If a child is exposed to chronic or toxic stress, his reaction to stress gets turned on way too quickly,” Dr. Briggs said, citing one case in which the mother of a 2-year-old boy wondered whether it would be normal for his tantrums to have intensified after he witnessed the fatal shooting of his father on the street.

According to doctors at Montefiore, a child enrolled in the Healthy Steps program is one-third as likely to score “at risk” for social or emotional developmental problems. Among mothers in the program, depression dropped from 30 percent at the first visit to 6 percent after two months, while 35 percent reported feeling unsupported at the first visit compared with 10 percent at two months.

One recent morning at the hospital’s family care center, a half-dozen mothers sat in a circle as their babies and toddlers played with bubbles on a foldout mat. It seemed like a typical mommy-and-me group, with talk of breastfeeding and gassy babies. But in this group, which was run by a social worker, some of the problems preceded the births: Erika Hernandez, 30, said she had been abused by her stepfather and spent most of her pregnancy homeless; Amanda Agosto, 32, said she had been frequently abandoned by her mother, who she said has bipolar disorder and schizophrenia; others were single and poor.

Though cost is often cited as a reason for not providing mental health services to children, Dr. Andrew D. Racine, director of general pediatrics at the Children’s Hospital at Montefiore, said the costs to society only rise if problems are ignored.

“We are seeing the enormous payoffs when you intervene with a child at six or nine months,” said Dr. Racine. “But the ability to intervene or change the trajectory narrows as the kids get older. By the time you get to school-aged children, it already costs a lot more money, time and energy for less returns.”

As an example, Dr. Briggs cited Emily Caraballo, 22, and her son, Hector, who before age 4, she said, had witnessed his father physically and verbally abuse his mother. Before an appointment last fall, Dr. Briggs was summoned by a security guard to the waiting room, where she found Ms. Caraballo “bleeding all over her face because her son has scratched her, and she has him pinned down on the floor so he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Hector had never received a single ounce of help of any kind — he’s never even been in a school setting because he’s out of control,” Dr. Briggs said. “This is a kid who should have been seeing me since the time he was an infant and this would have been a different story.”

Ms. Caraballo now lives in a domestic violence shelter, and her son is at one of the city’s two psychiatric hospitals that take children under 5. “They say to be a better parent, you need to be strict,” she said. “But Dr. Briggs took the time not only evaluate him, but to look at the circumstances that cause the situation. He developed a rapport with Dr. Briggs, he feels comfortable speaking about what he’s witnessed between me and his father.”

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Adults conspire to steal thousands intended for care of foster children

Foster-care scam grows by $155G
Zambito, Thomas. New York Daily News, Feb. 11, 2009.


Three women took $155,000 in city funds to care for foster kids they never saw, federal prosecutors said Wednesday as their probe into sham adoption subsidies widened.

Mother and daughter Oletha Rhodes and Tammy Moore took $100,000 in welfare subsidies, Manhattan federal prosecutors said.

The money was funneled their way by Nigel Osarenkhoe, a former adoptions supervisor for the city's Administration for Children's Services, prosecutors say.

Rhodes works as a lunchroom aide at Queens Vocational High School and Moore is a seasonal employee for the city's Housing Authority who used to work at ACS.

Also charged was Brenda Towe, a relative of a dead ACS employee, who's accused of accepting $55,000 in bogus subsidies.

Of the three, only Rhodes cared for foster kids, and she took more money than she was entitled to, prosecutors said.

In exchange for kickbacks, Osarenkhoe doled out $578,000 in adoption subsidies to numerous individuals by claiming they needed the cash to care for hard-to-place foster kids, prosecutors say.

Also yesterday, accused co-conspirator Philbert Gorrick, 54, pleaded guilty to accepting $375,000 in illegal payments from former ACS official Lethem Duncan.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Sister Teresa's long legacy for caring for children

47 years of foster care at N.Y. Foundling Hospital
Richardson, Clem. New York Daily News, Feb. 9, 2009.

The black-and-white photo was among the raft of mementos Sister Teresa Kelly came across while cleaning out her New York Foundling Hospital office.

It shows Kelly, former Mayor Ed Koch, Foundling Hospital President Dr. Vincent Fontana, television weatherman Irv (Mr. G) Gikofsky, several other nuns from Kelly's Sisters of Charity order and 10 children, all with big grins on their faces.

Sister Teresa remembers the moment.

A thunderstorm was raging outside, rattling the walls.

"Mayor Koch looked around and said, 'Don't worry, children, the Mayor is here,'" Sister Kelly recalled. "One of the children said, 'We're not worried; the Sister is here.'"

After a 47-year career with the Foundling Hospital, during which she has been mentor, confidant and surrogate mother to thousands of children, Sister Teresa retired last month.

Her decision had nothing to do with her age, but rather a recent city Administration for Children's Services directive to place fewer foster children in congregate care facilities, said Foundling Communications Director Jennifer Gilbert.

Public acceptance of unwed women having children has also reduced the number of babies being abandoned or put up for adoption.

That has meant fewer children coming into Blaine Hall, the top-floor dormitory facility at Foundling Hospital offices on Avenue of the Americas in Manhattan.

The last child living at Blaine Hall was adopted by a Foundling staff member in December.

Sister Teresa's retirement leaves only one Sister of Charity at the Foundling, down from as many as 60.

Sister Teresa, a bartender's daughter who was a Clairol model before joining the Sisters of Charity order in 1957, has been program director at Blaine Hall since it opened in 1974 to house older Foundling children.

She also was a teacher at the Blaine House school, and said the program was the driving force in her life.

"Blaine Hall has had only one program director for more than 34 years," said Foundling Executive Director Bill Baccaglini. "This is one tough Irish woman who doesn't suffer fools. I will miss her."

Sister Teresa has seen the business of foster care change over the years, and not always for the better.

"You used to be able to take a child to the movies or out to the museum or even home with you at night," she said.

"You could sit on the bed with them and hug them and comfort them. Now, you have to be very careful how you deal with a child, after all those abuse cases in the news.

"People don't know how much some children suffer in their lives," she added. "So many of them just need to feel loved. The people who do this kind of work do it because they love children and want the best for them."


WHAT DID working with children for so many years mean to her?

"I had family and I had love," said Sister Teresa, who plans to live with a sister in Westchester County. "People sometimes ask me if I regret not having any children of my own. I tell them I had everything I every wanted."

Some 138 people, including several of her former charges, turned out for Sister Teresa's retirement party, held at Rosie O'Grady's Restaurant in midtown.

She's not sure what she will do next, only that it will have something to do with caring for children.

National poll indicates public ignorance about foster care experience

National CASA Association Aims to Eliminate the Foster Care Stigma
PR Newswire, Feb. 3, 2009.


When Americans are asked about the kids in the foster care system, a national online Harris Poll, commissioned by the National Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) Association, found that 83 percent of adults know little or nothing about the experiences of children in foster care, and nearly half (42 percent) know nothing at all about these children.

When adults do think of children in foster care, only a minority (11 percent) cited positive impressions about these children and the foster care system that serves them. Most often, adults picture foster children as poorly treated, facing a hard life and in need of sympathy; 46 percent of knowledgeable adults believe these youth in foster care face unsuccessful futures.

However, when you talk to the youths themselves, you see an entirely different picture. A national focus group study of 50 current and former foster youth, also commissioned by the National CASA Association, found these youth see themselves as uniquely empowered by overcoming adversity, determined not to repeat the mistakes of their birth parents and optimistic about their futures.

"Yes, I have been through a lot of hell and high water, but because of that I am a stronger person. I'm still standing," said a male Dallas foster youth who participated in the study.

Despite the lack of awareness by the general population of the foster care system, 87 percent agree that foster care should be a national priority. Furthermore, 73 percent of adults believe in their potential to positively influence the lives of foster children.

"These are people we -- and our foster youth -- so desperately need," said National CASA CEO Michael Piraino. "We know that when a CASA volunteer is involved, children are 95 percent less likely to re-enter the foster care system. There are people out there that are willing to help, they just don't know how."

When asked what foster children want they say it's simple -- "we just want someone to be there to listen. We trust people who are willing to listen to us."

"There are a number of ways caring adults can become involved in the lives of these young people, not only as foster parents, but also as mentors or CASA volunteers," said Piraino. "By becoming a CASA volunteer adults provide the stability that foster youth often lack. That stability helps these children transition from care into successful adulthood and helps ensure that each child has the opportunity to reach their fullest potential."

The results of the two studies were presented by Piraino in January, in New York to an audience of national media, National CASA staff, and various members of the child welfare community. Supporting Piraino was a panel of foster youth advocates, featuring best-selling author and long-time CASA supporter, Anna Quindlen; National CASA spokesperson and TV-personality Judge Glenda Hatchett; and former foster youth and author Julia Charles.