Listening to distraught parents is a large part of my job. Exhausted, frustrated and worn down by their children’s behaviors, these people who have tried everything within their power feel they have no where left to turn. They are losing hope. Their children, many of whom are adopted out of our foster care system, act out stemming from their trauma. Their backgrounds are rich with physical, emotional and sexual abuse, neglect and witnessing domestic violence. Many of them, once removed from their abusive homes, went from foster home to foster home, some as abusive as their home of origin. It is no wonder these children have developed self-protective mechanisms against attachment. Unfortunately, when they do finally arrive with loving people who want to protect and provide for their physical and emotional needs, they exhibit symptoms of their trauma. Often they are violent, sexually act out, hoard food and have a lack of empathy when they enter the homes of these well-intentioned people who soon find out love is not enough. Turning back to the system from which they welcomed these children, they find the door is no longer open. The support and assistance they were promised just isn’t there. Still trying to hold on to hope, they continue to parent these children to the best of their ability. Often psychiatric hospitalizations occur because the child is unsafe. The family knows they need help. They recognize the child needs trauma work and intensive therapy to clean out all the ugliness of their past and help them no longer view their world through post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)-colored glasses. “What can I do?” they ask. I often find myself responding, “Ask the judge to order treatment,” and realize that those of us within the system play a key role in helping these children heal. Whether in social services, child welfare, mental health or law enforcement, we all have a chance to help these families and protect society from trauma behaviors. A few simple steps can make a world of difference.
Listen
Being willing to take the time to just listen is a dying art in our fast-paced, technology driven society. When I am on the phone with a parent who is first of all just glad to get a real person and not voicemail, I have to remind myself they deserve and need my full attention. It’s too easy to be writing a memo or reading emails or doing a myriad of other things while they are sharing intimate details regarding their struggles with their child. At this initial point, I don’t know for sure if professionally I will be able to help them, but what I do know is taking the time to truly be in the conversation with them can go along ways in making them feel heard and strengthen them for the unfortunately long fight ahead.
Offer support
Due to working in a residential treatment facility with a reputation for successfully working with trauma and diagnoses, such as reactive attachment disorder (RAD) and PTSD, I speak with many parents who have often spent years trying to explain what has been going on in their homes with little results. Children who respond out of trauma can be extremely charming in public and with people other than their immediate family. As a result, frustrated moms and dads face not only chaotic home lives but teachers, pastors, friends and other family members asking what is wrong with them because their child is so well-behaved and darling. This is where I come in. When a family calls and begins their frustrated conversation about their personal experience, I validate them. I tell them what they are experiencing is normal within the context of their family dynamic. I tell them they are not crazy, they are not awful parents and, most of all I tell them there is hope.
Brainstorm solutions
Most likely there is not going to be an easy solution to the family’s problems. Unfortunately, getting help for a child often just comes down to money. Even working in a residential setting, I recognize not every child needs to be in a secure facility. Most do not. I support the least restrictive setting and if I can direct a family to a local agency to get wrap-around services, respite and intensive outpatient care, I will. Over the years, I have compiled a knowledge base of who to contact and how and I readily share that with the people who call. We’re a small facility and most of the people I talk to I will never meet at an intake, but I can share with them the things I have learned, give them guidance and renewed courage that their fight is noble and they can find solutions that will help their child before they end up in prison for life.
Fight for internal change
The most important thing we as juvenile justice professionals can do to help children and their families is to continue to encourage internal change. In my arena, the biggest challenge we and families of traumatized children face is getting insurance to pay for the care they need. Again, it comes down to money. How can they justify denying treatment for a ten year old boy who was sexually abused for many years then turned around and molested his 7 year old foster brother over thirty times? It baffles me. Instead, they are seeking criminal charges and a correctional solution. Of course, this is a different pot of money. In my tenure, I have never brought in a child from our county. The “unofficial” stance of the local mental health agency was they didn’t pay for long-term treatment. Whenever a worn-down family called, shared their story and struggles with me and then told me they lived locally, my heart fell. I would direct them to the local agency and I would never hear from them again. Even with these recognized issues, I refuse to stop advising people to seek the help they need. I refuse to stop reaching out to other professionals asking them to help. I refuse to stop putting in requests. Instead of rolling our eyes, sighing and accepting the status quo, we need to keep fighting for what is in the best interest of these children, their families and society.
Don’t lose hope. These are the words I tell myself and the families I speak with day in and day out. It’s an unfortunate fact prevention is not a popular financial stance right now. Treatment is expensive. On the other hand, housing a once treatable traumatized child who continued acting out and has now committed numerous felonies and is spending the next twenty years in and out of prison is expensive too. As professionals we need to continue fighting for change and at the same time be present with the people who need to hear from us, “There is hope.”
About the Author
Michelle Perin
Michelle Perin has been a freelance writer since 2000. In December 2010, she earned her Master’s degree in Criminology and Criminal Justice from Indiana State University.
