by Anonymous
From the Editor: The following piece appears without a byline. This is because the author does not want her child to be the target of retaliation, nor does she want to be on the receiving end of an agency’s anger. Often the problem with anonymous submissions is credibility, but I and a number of other Federationists know this family, can vouch for their truthfulness and integrity, and are happy to call them friends and colleagues in the movement. We readily acknowledge that children with autism often manifest behaviors that confuse and frustrate parents, educators, and outside observers. As a consequence, they are more likely to be subject to both physical abuse in all settings and harsh disciplinary tactics such as restraint and seclusion at school. At the same time, their behaviors also frequently lead to misguided or uninformed reports to child protective services by observers who do not understand that they are observing symptoms of the child’s disability or who question strategies developed over time by families and their teams of doctors and therapists. This combination of greater appropriate and inappropriate reporting of families whose children have autism emphasizes the critical need for additional training in the clinical features of disabilities and disability civil rights and protections within the child welfare system.
All of this being said, other things must be said as well. We are not opposed to the function of government oversight when it comes to protecting vulnerable populations. We also know the risk in giving any agency or worker within an agency the power to remove a child from his or her parents. With both of these issues in mind, here is what a family recently visited by Children’s Protective Services has to say:
“My name is Casey. I’m from child protective services. I’m at your house in response to a concern about your kiddo.”
The adrenaline rush is instantaneous. Your mind starts racing. What is this about? Who called them? Why?
You won’t get the answers to the last two questions. You will get some information about the nature of the complaint, but the visit or call will be a surprise. They want to catch you off guard so they can see what’s really going on.
There is a red-haired lady at the house in her car on the phone. Is she taking a call about someone else? Is she doing a background check on you? Why is she here? Do you have to let her into your house? What if you don’t? What will they do next? Is she here to take your child? Why?
She finally gets out of the car. She explains that they got a call expressing concern for your child’s welfare. There is concern for his hygiene, his hair, and his teeth. He is blind, and the house is so cluttered he can’t safely get around.
Now it dawns on you. The new babysitter called in this morning by text. She said she had a personal issue and couldn’t make it today. She called. You say so. The CPS caseworker is smooth about this. “I can’t say, but families can usually figure it out.”
She had only been with you for two weeks and yesterday didn’t go well. She decided to help your son brush his teeth. You don’t know how much toothpaste she used, but, after he gagged, the toothpaste stain on his shirt was the size of an adult’s hand. Then he threw up his breakfast. He had cheese and toast. She directed him to the bathroom sink, then tried to wash it down the drain. That didn’t go well either. The drain clogged, and one of you had to go out and get some drain cleaner.
The day got better, but not by much. Virtual first grade is not for the faint of heart. Going to school on Microsoft Teams when you are legally blind is…pointless. Maybe high school or college students can navigate the platform. Maybe the school can provide the materials in large print or Braille. But they don’t. You’ve been pushing for a more appropriate educational approach to pandemic schooling for your legally blind child since September.
Actually, now you wonder. Was it the school? You are on the verge of filing state or federal civil rights complaints for violations of the special education law guaranteeing all children a free and appropriate public education. You’ve been trying desperately to avoid having to file a formal legal complaint, because you know that these often take years to resolve, and if the complaint is that your first grader is not learning to read, justice delayed is justice denied.
The red-haired lady is in your living room. She’s got lots of questions. Invasive questions. Who lives here? Where do you eat dinner? Where do you sleep?
You let the seven-year-old give the house tour. He can get around the house fine. He shows her. There are books and papers around. You’ve been doing virtual school and work from home for nearly a year. But there is a difference between cluttered and unhygienic, between stacks of schoolbooks and papers and a fire hazard.
You explain about the hair and teeth, though you feel exposed—not naked, more like skinned alive. Every nerve in your body feels like it might explode. She wouldn’t take him over this, would she? Why did she call?
He has autism, you explain. Yes, he hates having baths, having his hair brushed, his teeth brushed, his fingernails clipped. All of it. These are textbook symptoms. You have worked with his doctors and his therapists for years on this. You do the best you can.
He gets therapy every day: applied behavioral analysis, occupational therapy, speech therapy, physical therapy, music therapy, and social skills classes. Surely you explained all this to the new babysitter. Even if you didn’t, some of the therapies are on Zoom. She was there. Did she not wonder why he was doing them?
Why did she do this? You have a theory about this. She was frustrated. She had been a nanny for years, and your kid didn’t respond to her usual bag of tricks. You had warned her about that. He has autism. You offered to have his therapists give her some strategies, but she declined.
Most days he will cooperate, but virtual school is tough when you are seven—two to six hours a day of Zoom or Teams meetings—actually it seems inhumane. Many workplaces have rules against this for adults.
The cleaning lady has another theory: The job was more work than she expected. “I think she just thought her job was to make sure the house doesn’t burn down.” She wanted to quit but wanted the referral agency to give her another assignment, something easier. She had been bringing her homework with her and hadn’t had a chance to get anything done.
Once the CPS lady is in your house, she wants to see everything: the kitchen, the stove, the fridge, the bathroom. She is monitoring your housekeeping. She wants to know when bedtime is. How do you get him to sleep? What does the morning routine look like? Is he attending virtual school regularly?
Your skin is crawling. But you know that the fastest way to get her out of your life is to answer her questions. You don’t want your kid to see that you’re scared or angry or confused. Actually, you hope he can’t figure out why she’s here at all. Unless this goes horribly wrong, you are never going to tell him that she was here to decide whether to take him away.