Tough Work
Denise
Lyles, Bronx Journal Staff Reporter
Two
police officers bring in 3 small children towards a crowded waiting
room. The youngest, a boy, is screaming frantically. The receptionist at
the front desk instructs the officers to escort the children to the
nursery where they will be cleaned, fed and await placement. Meanwhile,
there’s hubbub aplenty in the lobby where over 70 people, mostly women
and children are restless, fidgeting or bored.
It’s
just another day here at the Bronx field office of Administration for
Children Services (ACS).
On the
second floor, Ms. Monique Gibbs, a caseworker for ACS is sitting at her
desk. There before her chair, there are piles of bulging legal folders,
several pink While-You-Were-Out phone messages, and a daily affirmations
page-a-day calendar. Gibbs says she reads one page over and over again,
where it’s written: "Today is a new day and I refuse to get off
to a bad start. It keeps me sane," says Gibbs.
The
telephone rings, and Gibbs promises a "client" - as all
parents and children who deal with ACS are called - subway tokens for
her trip home. The office is painted a dull beige, but in an attempt to
make it a friendlier environment, another employee is hanging up some
framed prints and potted plants. The telephone rings again, and Gibbs
says to someone at the other end of the line, "Yes, the beds will
be delivered today, yes you should be home between 1 and 5."
You’ve
no doubt heard of ACS. Formerly known as the Child Welfare
Administration, it was part of New York City’s Human Resources
Administration (HRA), before it was created as a separate unit by an
executive order by Mayor Rudolf Giuliani in January of 1996. ACS employs
over 4,000 caseworkers and provides services for 37,500 children in
foster care.
ACS’s
job is to ensure the safety and well being of New York City’s
children, a job that covers many things. For one, it’s supposed to
field and investigate reports of child abuse. It helps families by
providing temporary foster care. It tracks down parents and gets them to
pay child support, when necessary.
It hasn’t
been an easy three years since ACS was created to house a group of child
advocacy activities under one roof. There are, of course, the headlines
that pop up on cases of gross neglect or the most horrible forms of
child abuse. Then, ACS, as a bureaucracy has long been criticized for
its lack of mission as well as incompetent caseworkers.
The fact
is, ACS has been through a lot. There have been four name changes in 30
years. A total of 12 chiefs have been in charge in the last 23 years.
And still, there’s controversy. In fact, a recent report by the
current commissioner Nicholas Scoppetta, who was appointed in 1996 by
Mayor Giuliani, puts ACS’s woes in black and white. "No one is in
charge long enough to implement long-term projects or even develop, much
less follow through on, her or his agenda," it says.
Gibbs is
aware of ACS’s reputation, and as a result tries her best to be both
efficient and compassionate. On a typical day, she arrives in the office
by 8:30 am, and reviews her cases. On Wednesdays she does "field
work," meaning she and a co-worker spend the entire day visiting
the families on her caseload. On a first visit to a home, she assesses
the apartment and interviews both the parents and children involved. She
looks over the children of the household and checks for any obvious
signs of physical abuse. She also makes sure there is food, beds, and
window guards and a smoke detector, which is a law in New York State.
"Before I leave, I make an appointment for the parents to come into
the office, so I can determine which services the family needs,"
says Gibbs.
Gibbs’
caseload consists of 27 families, each with three to ten members. Their
problems range from physical or mental abuse to neglect, from poverty to
parents with psychological problems to teenage runaways and truancy. All
of her cases are located in the Morrisania and Tremont sections of the
Bronx.
She has
seen a host of odd circumstances. On a recent home visit, a family had a
duck named Lucy, swimming in their bathtub and a blind dog. The mother
explained that "Lucy," had been part of their family since she
was a duckling. "I made a note to check with ASPCA and inquire
about pet ducks," said Gibbs, after her visit.
Her
saddest case came a few years ago when a mother’s boyfriend strangled
a young autistic boy. After he killed the boy he carried him around all
day, as if nothing was wrong, he even took him to the park. A police
officer saw the little boy fall off the bench and came over to assist
and discovered the little boy was dead.
There
are other trying situations as well. "I have spent nights in
hospital emergency rooms with scared, battered children and several more
hours waiting for temporary foster homes to open up for them," she
recalls. "Sometimes I get home about 3 am and get up at 7:00 am and
have to be in court by 9:00 am, says Gibbs."
One of
the hardest things for Gibbs, a 9-year veteran of the Bronx office, to
do? That’s separating children from their parents. "My goal is
not to break up families, and only remove children in extreme
circumstances; removals are too traumatic for both the children and the
parents." To avoid that last resort, Gibbs often resorts to
referring clients to counseling as an option or offering some other type
of assistance. The agency’s policy is to find safe permanent homes for
all children in the care of ACS. That means ACS will work with families
to achieve a safe and nurturing home for a child, or when it has been
determined that the child cannot live safely with the biological family,
ACS find parents to adopt children.
That, of
course, depends on the circumstances. Some of the cases require classes
in parenting skills or anger management. Sometimes, parents need
information on food programs, or mental health and drug counseling.
"There are so many different personalities you are dealing with.
Maybe one out of 20 cases has a happy ending," Gibbs estimates.
In one
of her recent cases, a client believed her daughter was possessed by the
devil. The child complained to her teachers, because her mother would
take her to the park for hours each night, where she believed she could
rid her daughter of the demons. Gibbs got a call at the office, and the
little girl had to be removed from the home immediately. After going to
court the maternal grandmother was awarded custody and the mother was
hospitalized and treated for mental illness. "The grandmother often
calls to thank me and to report how well the little girl is doing,"
Gibbs says with a smile.
Most
days, after work that stressful, Gibbs’ is practically overjoyed to
get home in Fordham Hill. Her husband, Vincent Adams as of yet have no
children. And many times, Adams finds himself worrying about Gibbs’
late hours on the job and her field visits in some unsafe neighborhoods.
To settle his nerves, Adams sometimes escorts his wife and her colleague
when they are conducting field visits after hours or in unsafe
neighborhoods.
A Harlem
native, Gibbs attended City College. She majored in Early Childhood
Education. She had planned to teach school and become a guidance
counselor, but shortly after graduating she heard the city was hiring
caseworkers for HRA. Nine years later Gibbs is planning to pursue a
Master’s Degree in Social Work.
Recently,
Gibbs has even begun trying her hand at a little fund raising to better
help clients. For the first time this year, she has started asking
friends and businesses for donations to buy presents for an annual
Christmas party. "I love Christmas, and I try to make it as
enjoyable for my clients as possible, especially the children who are in
foster homes or in a shelter. I am sending a letter to Radio City; maybe
we’ll get some tickets to the Christmas show."
Gibbs
says she realizes she cannot help everyone, but she intends to make her
clients, in particular the children, to make their lives more pleasant.
"I start my day with an affirmation and end it with a prayer, for
my clients."
|