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October 18, 2002/Cheshvan 12 5763, Vol. 55, No. 8
Sarah was here, but where were we?ELLEN J. NUSBAUMSix weeks to the day after I met Erica Stevens, she lay down in bed beside her already-dead child, put a 9mm handgun to her head and pulled the trigger. Upon hearing the story unfold on the 10 p.m. news, I collapsed in grief, not really from the shock but from defeat.This tragic event was the inevitable conclusion in a state that treats its at-risk children as disposable entities. Such is the plight for those without a voice. Despite the valiant efforts of school officials, local rabbis and those who knew Erica before us, our worst fears took the shape of two body bags being carted from a luxury apartment during the supper hour. Sarah was the victim of a seriously flawed system, and we were helpless to save her. According to Arizona's Children's Action Alliance (CAA), 90 parents are reported for suspected abuse and neglect in our state every day. Furthermore, CAA statistics for 1999 show Child Protective Services (CPS) received 32,639 reports of child abuse and neglect but that fewer than 15 percent of the families involved ultimately received follow-up services. The cracks in the system are wide and many, and our children are slipping through in droves. Blame cannot be laid with individuals but rather with an unreformed institution of ill-conceived rules and bureaucracy that is mired in budget woes and favors inaction over risk of litigation. Ours is a system that plays dice with a child's right to live in peace or even just to live. In Arizona, the law establishes a minimum threshold of competency. If the parent is minimally competent to care for the child, the parent keeps the child. As long as the child does not exhibit evidence of physical abuse, appears fed, is provided shelter and attends school, the child is not considered a candidate for protective services. Complaints are filed and forgotten until the unthinkable leads the next day's headlines. My encounters with Erica were not many, but each was equally disturbing. She spoke obsessively about being terminally sick from toxic mold poisoning. In fact, it was all she talked about. Erica could rattle medical jargon on the subject with machine-gun speed and marksman precision. "We are ghosts, Ellen," she told me hauntingly, as if she was confiding in a lifelong friend. "No one sees us." Ironically, Sarah appeared perfectly healthy and active. The most harrowing aspect of Erica's diatribes of woe is that they were always related in front of Sarah in hideous detail. For Sarah, life was about death and uncertainty. Erica refused to curb her rants in front of Sarah. On the few occasions Sarah would ask Erica to stop, Erica's eyes would gleam and her lips would curve into a satisfied smile. Then Erica would right herself and calmly reassure everyone: "But we'll be OK. You don't have to worry about us. Whatever happens, Sarah and I will be OK. Won't we Sarah?" She made other disturbing statements that made me sit up and take notice. "Sometimes I think I should just slit my throat," she asserted unsolicited. Then later in the conversation: "I love my daughter more than anything. I would never do anything to hurt her." One night Erica called me claiming that her lungs were shutting down. In the background, Sarah screamed, sobbed, begged and threatened suicide - she was frantic and inconsolable. The next morning, Erica called to tell me that she had died and been resuscitated. "You're talking to the walking dead," she whispered. "I shouldn't be here, but they brought me back." What she didn't know was that I went to the hospital while she was there, and doctors told me tests showed her lungs were fine. She checked herself out before a psychologist could evaluate her for competency. Even if she was determined incompetent, little could be done swiftly to even try to remove Sarah from her care, I was told. Instead, Erica dragged Sarah to another hospital and convinced them to give her a breathing treatment before releasing her. I documented my encounters with Erica and gave them to school officials to include in a complaint to CPS. Upon submitting the complaint, school officials were advised that lacking physical proof of abuse, the report would be filed. In an ironic glimmer of hope, Sarah attempted suicide and was hospitalized. Surely now, school officials surmised, CPS would step up to the plate. Instead, Sarah wound up back in Erica's charge. CPS remains silent on how this could be allowed to happen. According to Rabbi Mark Bisman of Har Zion Congregation in Scottsdale, Valley rabbis reached out to Erica by providing funds, including those from an anonymous donor, which were eventually channeled to Jewish Family and Children's Service (JFCS) to disburse to Erica for such items as rent. According to JFCS social worker Jody Woodnick, JFCS provided Erica not just financial assistance to meet basic needs, but help applying for government benefits. JFCS also offered counseling to Erica, but she refused. Still, this community cannot forget Sarah. If it does, she never existed. For starters, contact the Children's Action Alliance at www.azchildren.org. The CAA Web site is chock full of statistics and insights into the current state of affairs regarding issues that impact Arizona's children. Find out about current legislation and how your representatives are voting. Pressure your politicians to support the bills that will help our at-risk children. Send e-mails and letters to your representatives and to candidates insisting that reform of our child welfare laws and policies top the list of their priorities. Force those in office to live up to their promises. Donate time or money. If in Sarah's memory everyone who reads this just takes one of these suggested steps, maybe we can help save one child from her fate. Maybe more. In that way, we assure Sarah a legacy she never had - the chance to create herself. Nusbaum is the parent of a child who was a classmate and good friend of Sarah Stevens. Nusbaum can be reached at ejnussy@aol.com. |
