Read Online I Speak For This Child: True Stories of a Child Advocate by Gay Courter - Free Book Online
Authors: Gay Courter
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up from JDC and HRS put her in a home near the university.” Catherine stared out the window. I continued to clarify. “Then she ran right away and lived on the streets with Jason until he told her about the Tabernacle Home.”
“It’s our only choice.”
“Do you think it is the right place for her to be?”
“We can’t put any more money into her and she requires full-time supervision.”
“Are you visiting her there?”
“When they tell me I can come, I will, but her father won’t. His wound is too deep.”
I realized that it was getting late and asked if I could phone if I had any more questions. Catherine said that would be fine. She stood up to go to the door and said she knew that I was the writer because one of her friends had worked in our office.
“Did you know that your daughter wants to be a writer?” I asked.
“Well, Didi wants a lot of things she will never have,” she said with a deep sigh.
A few days later I called the Tabernacle Home and spoke to Marjorie Hoffman about visiting Lydia later in the day. She said the best time to arrive would be at three-fifteen. A long phone call kept me in the office later than I expected and I arrived at three-thirty. Alice Shaw was waiting for me, making it clear I was late.
“Well, what have you learned?” she asked.
“I met with Lydia’s mother, who gave me some background on the situation.”
Mrs. Shaw had not yet taken a seat nor offered me one. She crossed her arms stiffly and said, “I meant what did your superiors have to say about abiding by the Tabernacle Home rules?”
Once again I felt out of step with Mrs. Shaw and perceived how formidable the girls in her care must find her. Because I wanted to see Lydia, I had to avoid a confrontation, and yet I could not capitulate to her either. I spoke slowly, saying, “I did check with Lillian Elliott, who firmly believes that I have every right to see Lydia alone. However, I won’t insist on that right now. Last time I was here I told Lydia I would visit once a week and the most important thing is to be consistent with her. If I can just say hello and see how she is doing, that will be fine with me.”
“You have not clarified anything for me,” Mrs. Shaw replied tartly.
“Since I am a volunteer court appointee, I not only have rules to follow, but have to answer to both Mrs. Elliott and the judge as well as file accurate and timely reports on this case.”
“I realize that,” Mrs. Shaw said with a modicum of sympathy creeping into her tone. Here was a woman who at least understood responsibility to superiors.
“Mrs. Elliott said she would contact you to set up an appointment so she can explain the Guardian ad Litem program in more depth.”
“She hasn’t called yet.”
“She is away today and tomorrow, but I am certain she will try first thing on Monday. In the meantime, may I see Lydia?”
“I don’t think that would be wise. Not because I don’t trust you, but I need to know what the rules will be up front. If we let you see her today, then tomorrow you might come back and want to take her off campus.”
“The regulations are very simple. The Guardian ad Litem visits an assigned child a minimum of once a month, usually more often at first, and then as frequently as required. At regular intervals, she conveys the child’s status to the judge and confirms that the child’s needs for medical care, counseling, clothing, shelter, food, and education are being met.”
“Are you insinuating that we aren’t meeting those needs?”
“Not at all. I don’t pry or check further unless I have a suspicion. For instance, when I go into a foster home, if the children seem healthy, I don’t open the refrigerator to see if there is food in the house.”
“You already saw that Lydia is receiving excellent care.” Realizing that I was unconvinced, Alice Shaw tried a more collegial approach. “A disturbed girl like Lydia might say things that might put our program in
“It’s our only choice.”
“Do you think it is the right place for her to be?”
“We can’t put any more money into her and she requires full-time supervision.”
“Are you visiting her there?”
“When they tell me I can come, I will, but her father won’t. His wound is too deep.”
I realized that it was getting late and asked if I could phone if I had any more questions. Catherine said that would be fine. She stood up to go to the door and said she knew that I was the writer because one of her friends had worked in our office.
“Did you know that your daughter wants to be a writer?” I asked.
“Well, Didi wants a lot of things she will never have,” she said with a deep sigh.
A few days later I called the Tabernacle Home and spoke to Marjorie Hoffman about visiting Lydia later in the day. She said the best time to arrive would be at three-fifteen. A long phone call kept me in the office later than I expected and I arrived at three-thirty. Alice Shaw was waiting for me, making it clear I was late.
“Well, what have you learned?” she asked.
“I met with Lydia’s mother, who gave me some background on the situation.”
Mrs. Shaw had not yet taken a seat nor offered me one. She crossed her arms stiffly and said, “I meant what did your superiors have to say about abiding by the Tabernacle Home rules?”
Once again I felt out of step with Mrs. Shaw and perceived how formidable the girls in her care must find her. Because I wanted to see Lydia, I had to avoid a confrontation, and yet I could not capitulate to her either. I spoke slowly, saying, “I did check with Lillian Elliott, who firmly believes that I have every right to see Lydia alone. However, I won’t insist on that right now. Last time I was here I told Lydia I would visit once a week and the most important thing is to be consistent with her. If I can just say hello and see how she is doing, that will be fine with me.”
“You have not clarified anything for me,” Mrs. Shaw replied tartly.
“Since I am a volunteer court appointee, I not only have rules to follow, but have to answer to both Mrs. Elliott and the judge as well as file accurate and timely reports on this case.”
“I realize that,” Mrs. Shaw said with a modicum of sympathy creeping into her tone. Here was a woman who at least understood responsibility to superiors.
“Mrs. Elliott said she would contact you to set up an appointment so she can explain the Guardian ad Litem program in more depth.”
“She hasn’t called yet.”
“She is away today and tomorrow, but I am certain she will try first thing on Monday. In the meantime, may I see Lydia?”
“I don’t think that would be wise. Not because I don’t trust you, but I need to know what the rules will be up front. If we let you see her today, then tomorrow you might come back and want to take her off campus.”
“The regulations are very simple. The Guardian ad Litem visits an assigned child a minimum of once a month, usually more often at first, and then as frequently as required. At regular intervals, she conveys the child’s status to the judge and confirms that the child’s needs for medical care, counseling, clothing, shelter, food, and education are being met.”
“Are you insinuating that we aren’t meeting those needs?”
“Not at all. I don’t pry or check further unless I have a suspicion. For instance, when I go into a foster home, if the children seem healthy, I don’t open the refrigerator to see if there is food in the house.”
“You already saw that Lydia is receiving excellent care.” Realizing that I was unconvinced, Alice Shaw tried a more collegial approach. “A disturbed girl like Lydia might say things that might put our program in
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