Lack of volunteers hurts kids in state’s foster care system

Each of the 15,869 children in Arizona’s foster-care system are supposed to have an advocate, someone who fills a role somewhere between friend and lawyer.

But only 10 percent of those children had court-appointed special advocates to assist them through the trauma of being separated from their families, according to figures from late June.

The court-appointed special advocates, or CASA, program, which recruits and trains the advocates, suffers from a lack of volunteers to carry out their court-ordered duties.

It has been that way for some time: A decade ago, only 10 percent of the children in the custody of the state had a CASA, the same percentage as today. In Maricopa County, only 8 percent of the children in state custody today have a CASA.

The shortage of volunteers has left a critical gap in the child-welfare system, one that can’t be filled by increased funding or new laws. Instead, it takes a desire to help kids and a willingness to give 20-30 hours a month.

Advocates say a lack of awareness is the main reason for the shortfall in volunteers.

“The CASA program has been a wellkept secret for a long time,” said Allison Hurtado, outreach coordinator for the program, which is run by the state Supreme Court.

CASAs are assigned to keep track of a child in the system. They’re the court’s eyes on the child. Given the typical oneto-one interaction, the CASA knows more about the child than any of the other players involved in the child’s case.

Research conducted over the decades since the CASA program was launched in 1977 indicates children with an advocate are less likely to re-enter the foster care system, do better in school than their foster-care counterparts and get more help while in the child-welfare system, among other things.

“Children that have advocates spend less time in care,” said Deidre Calcoate, program manger for CASA of Arizona.

The volunteers, especially when they reflect the demographics of the families in the system, bring a perspective to a case that might otherwise be missing.

Bill Brotherton served as a juvenile court judge in Maricopa County for a year before retiring. He said it was rare to get a CASA report — a reflection of the shortage of volunteers — but when he did, it factored into his decisions.

He recalled one instance where a CASA argued her child was not getting the services she was entitled to. In response, the assistant attorney general asked Brotherton to dismiss the CASA.

He didn’t. The CASA’s report, he said, struck him as thorough and well-founded.

“Overall, it’s a good program,” Brotherton said, referring to both the CASA and review-board posts. But they’re only as good as the work a volunteer puts into his or her required court report.

One former CASA said she was frustrated by case managers who viewed her as an annoyance — a bored retiree looking to get out of the house, instead of a well-informed part of the team. Still, she served for seven years and felt her relationships with the children made a difference in their lives.

Katherine Schmidt, who is a CASA, said the experience may not be as warm and fuzzy as many imagine.

“You can’t go in with the idea that people are going to congratulate you or welcome you,” she said.

Her first CASA “kiddo” didn’t like her at first, Schmidt said, and she felt the same way.

“Even in the worst behavior, I didn’t go away,” she said. “And that’s how we bonded.”

Others can be deterred by the nature of the cases.

“A lot of people told me, ‘How can you do it? How can you read these horrible cases about children?’” said Brenda Laufer, who recently concluded her service as a Foster Care Review Board member. “That’s a difficult issue for some people.”

The review board is another part of the system that depends on volunteers. In this case, the boards have enough volunteers, but its directors say they’d like to increase the diversity of the members.

Review boards are five-member citizen panels that meet monthly to monitor DCS cases and keep them moving toward a permanent resolution (usually reunification with the parents or adoption).

The panels submit reports to the juvenile court, providing citizen oversight to the process.

Lloyd Fields, a 15-year veteran of the review boards and one of the few African-Americans on a panel, understands the barriers to getting more diverse representation.

Fields said it takes time to review cases. A meeting can run the better part of a day, during business hours.

“How many employers are willing to pay an employee to give back to the community?” Fields asked. Time off for volunteer work might make the job more attractive, he said.

Haia Adbel said greater awareness would help. When she first heard of the program, she thought it was a pitch to be a foster parent, something she wasn’t ready to do as a single mom with three children of her own.

When she realized it was an oversight position, she jumped at the opportunity to put her legal training to work. Plus, she added, it might help in her job hunt once she passes the state bar exam.

A second-generation Arab American with Latino roots, she suggested recruitment efforts could extend to law or other graduate schools to diversify the membership, as well as increase volunteers.

While the barriers to finding enough volunteers vary, the motivation for those who do sign up is simple: a desire to help kids.

“Hold the phone: I can help foster kids without being a foster parent?” Jennifer Maciaszek said when she learned about the CASA program from a friend.

She wanted to contribute, but becoming a foster parent was not the right fit. After taking CASA training, she’s on track to have a “CASA kiddo” of her own soon.

Ken Mann said serving on a fostercare review board appealed to his “bleeding heart.” Plus, it was a chance to put his legal training to use, albeit in a field very different from the real-estate law and civil litigation that has characterized most of his career.

Heather Varela said the prospect of becoming a CASA “germinated” for nearly a decade.

“I was looking for a way to give back to the community,” she said. “I really love kids, and I definitely see a need in all of our communities to step up and make a difference in a kid’s life.”