Arizona's foster care boards don't look like their communities. Here's why that matters
Maria Polletta
Experts have long recognized inequalities in America's child-welfare system: When kids share identical circumstances except for race, black and Native American children enter foster care more often, spend more time in the system and wait longer to be adopted.
In an attempt to ensure fair treatment for kids taken from their parents, Arizona lawmakers decades ago mandated that Foster Care Review Boards — which help decide the fates of children in foster care — mirror the races, ethnicities and income levels of the communities they serve.
They don't.
Though children of color represent about 60 percent of kids in out-of-home care, Foster Care Review Boards are overwhelmingly white. State records indicate nearly 90 percent of board members in Maricopa County and 100 percent of board members in six other counties identify as "Anglo American."
The lack of diversity among decision-makers can exacerbate minority families' impression that the deck is stacked against them, according to parents, board members and other experts. And research shows cultural biases can indeed affect the outcome of child-welfare cases.
"These volunteers are put in place to represent the best interest of the child," said Tracey Feild, director of the Annie E. Casey Foundation's child-welfare strategy group. "But if they don’t understand the context of the family, that can be very hard to do, and mistakes can be made."
Arizona Supreme Court spokeswoman Heather Murphy acknowledged that the court's Dependent Children's Services Division, which manages the review-board system, "has had some successes and struggles" with recruitment.
Attracting male and ethnically diverse applicants is challenging, she said.
"Increasing diversity is a goal we want to achieve," she said. "By admitting that we are not as diverse as we aspire to be, we hope to inspire others to serve."
'Eyes and ears of the court'
Arizona's Legislature was one of the first in the U.S. to establish citizen-review boards for foster cases in 1978. Lawmakers wanted kids to find permanent homes as quickly as possible.
Today, the state has about 150 Foster Care Review Boards, more than half of them in Maricopa County. They draw volunteer members from education, social work, health care and other industries.
Each three- to five-member board meets monthly to monitor the cases of up to 100 children. Boards evaluate the safety, necessity and appropriateness of their placements, as well as analyze whether the Department of Child Safety is making "reasonable efforts" toward more permanent resolutions.
In August, for instance, a Maricopa County board weighed a case in which a toddler's mother continued to struggle with addiction a year and a half after he'd been removed from her care. The board disagreed with DCS's goal of reuniting the mother and child.
Board members cannot issue or enforce orders, but their recommendations are shared widely. Judges, biological and foster families, counselors, attorneys and other relevant parties receive copies.
"Their report is usually part of the decision-making process for me," said Bruce Cohen, a juvenile-court judge. "There are cases ... where a specific need of a child, foster family or parent is not being fully addressed, and the FCRB highlights that area of need."
Maurice Portley, a retired judge who heard juvenile cases from 1995-2001, said the boards "help keep the case on track, whether for reunification, permanent guardianship, or termination of parental rights to allow permanency for the child."
SEE ALSO:Study breaks reasons DCS removes kids
The review-board system seems to work better "than expecting a judge who's got a full caseload to get to know each of the children in care," said Murphy, the Supreme Court spokeswoman. She said members "act as the eyes and ears of the court."
Prospective board members must fill out an application that includes questions about family income level, gender, ethnicity, education and occupation. They must get fingerprinted, submit to a background check and complete an interview.
The judges who appoint board members are "required to ensure, to the maximum extent possible, that each board represents the socioeconomic, racial, and ethnic groups of the county in which it serves," according to state guidelines.
Though judges receive copies of member applications, Murphy said they largely rely on the review-board program to put forth diverse candidates.
Fewer resources, more cases?
Among minority children in foster care, black and Native American kids tend to fare the worst.
Researchers have drawn different conclusions as to why.
Many point to the impact of poverty, which affects African- and Native Americans at disproportionate rates.
People from any income level can experience mental illness, substance abuse, and other problems that sometimes lead to child neglect and abuse. But poor parents can't easily pay for services that would help them avoid state intervention, the way an affluent parent with a drug problem could hire a nanny or pay for rehab.
Low-income parents also have less access to legal help, affordable housing and other resources that tend to facilitate a child's return.
Still, research suggests poverty alone isn't enough to explain why minority kids are overrepresented in the foster system.
Other studies over the last two decades have identified bias — both on the part of those who report families for abuse and neglect and those who decide what happens next —as another key factor.
The University of Wisconsin-Madison's Institute for Research on Poverty found that people who report families to child-protective services, as well as child-welfare officials, can rely on "pre-existing beliefs about the ways in which parents of a particular race tend to behave toward their children" when analyzing potential neglect or abuse.
"There certainly has been concern expressed about that," said Feild, the child-welfare director. "How does a white upper-middle-class person with a law degree fairly understand the socioeconomic and cultural differences that a low-income African-American child or Latino child can have?"
A fair shake
Any parent facing the removal of a child might feel unfairly judged or dismissed by DCS officials.
Gladys Malano, whose grandson was removed from his biological home in Chandler and adopted, said dealing with "all white folks" as she fought for custody of the boy added to the feeling that her African-American family wasn't getting a fair shake.
In the six years she spent dealing with Arizona's child-welfare system, she said, she never once encountered a black official.
"That's not to say black people can't discriminate against other black people," Malano said. "But I always felt like I was getting stereotyped."
Malano primarily clashed with her grandson's case manager, she said. Encounters with his Foster Care Review Board made her feel like board members "really didn't want to hear what I had to say," either.
"Out of the whole time that my grandson was in care, I probably interacted with them two to three times," Malano said. "No more than that, because when I got on the phone and told them my concerns, they blew me to the side. They would talk over me, totally disrespect me."
SEE ALSO:A girl's horrifying journey through foster care
Murphy, the Supreme Court spokeswoman, said "not all who come before a board will be pleased with the outcome, but our members pride themselves on at least allowing everyone to be heard." Court guidelines say Foster Care Review Boards should create "an atmosphere of trust, with dignity and respect maintained through participatory involvement of all those having interest in the welfare of the child."
Such an atmosphere can be difficult to maintain amid widespread and deep-rooted perceptions in minority communities that child-welfare officials want to take kids away, not help families.
According to a sweeping study funded by the federal Administration for Children and Families, that distrust causes some families to resist cooperating with officials, increasing the risk of a child’s temporary or permanent removal.
Some child-welfare professionals corroborate parents' views that a family's race or socioeconomic status can influence decisions on a case.
Another report sponsored by the ACF found some case workers "felt that many staff, but Caucasian staff in particular, lacked exposure to cultures other than their own and had no context for understanding the cultural norms and practices of minority populations."
Cultural gaps
Foster Care Review Board members of various ethnic backgrounds described cases they'd struggled with because of cultural differences.
Some involved religious convictions, such as beliefs that caused parents to resist administering medication deemed necessary for a child's well-being.
Many involved discipline: Corporal punishment and other measures considered acceptable in other countries can lead to a child's removal in the U.S.
"We had a case with a family where the mother was, I think, from the Philippines, and they did some form of caning as punishment," said Angela Fischer, a review-board chair and former child-welfare worker who has fostered more than 20 kids.
"The lady loved her child, and this was what her family did where she grew up," said Fischer, who is white. "But the child ended up with bruises. Here, you can’t do that."
In that case, DCS returned the child to her parents after the mother "learned the rules and customs here," Fischer said. The child's father was from the U.S., she said, and "they had enough solid family support in this culture to help her figure out how to behave with the child."
The Children's Bureau, part of the federal Department of Health and Human Services, encourages child-welfare agencies to educate parents about U.S. laws and help them identify alternate disciplinary approaches" when "practices that might be seen as abusive or neglectful by mainstream standards ... have a cultural component."
Volunteers say it's not always possible to bridge that gap.
A high-profile case reviewed by Phoenix resident Lloyd Fields' board, for instance, involved a young refugee girl who was sexually assaulted by a group of neighbors and then punished by her parents for being victimized.
Though the state dropped child-abuse charges against the parents, it removed the girl from their care and placed her with a long-term guardian.
'Speaking for them'
In interviews with The Republic, minority review-board members seemed acutely aware of the panels' lack of diversity.
Describing himself as "one of the few blacks that serve on the boards," Fields, 69, said the state has "diversity when it comes to foster homes, so we should have diversity when it comes to who reviews the cases."
"Especially when you have to make the very, very tough decision to support a case manager recommending severance and adoption — if it's a black family and a white board, obviously they're going to think that the board is against them," Fields said. "I can only assume that it lends some comfort to the family on the other side of the table when they see a board member who looks like they do."
Haia Abdel Jaber, an Arab-American volunteer from Litchfield Park, said she quickly noticed the boards were "largely white" after her appointment.
Abdel, who was born in Puerto Rico, recounted going out of her way to ensure other board members didn't overlook considerations specific to minority populations.
"When we had cases with kids who were brought to the U.S. as children, I would sit there and say, 'Is this person in this case a citizen? Can we prepare a DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals status) application here?'" said Abdel, 36, referring to the Obama-era program that shields some young unauthorized immigrants from deportation.
Like Fields, Abdel said greater board diversity would "minimize that kind of disadvantage (families) feel at already being interviewed or questioned by us."
"It would give the people that are coming in some positive indication that somebody who is like them is speaking for them instead of just judging them," she said.
How to become a board member
- Visit azcourts.gov/fcrb to request an application form.
- Complete finger-printing and background check.
- Participate in an interview with a program specialist.
- Receive an appointment, typically for three years, from a presiding juvenile-court judge.
- Complete a one-day new-member orientation within six months.
More information: 602-452-3400.
About this report
In 2016, when the number of children removed from their families peaked at more than 18,000, the Arizona Community Foundation gave The Arizona Republic and azcentral.com a three-year grant to support in-depth research on the topic. As part of that effort, our staff experts investigate the reasons behind the surge in foster children and the systems meant to support and protect them.
Are you part of the system? We want to understand your story. Go to childwelfare.azcentral.com.
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