Dec. 04--It took his own death for a city and a state to pay attention to 17-year-old Laquan McDonald.
In his 17 years, he lived briefly with a mother who neglected him and whose boyfriend beat him, court and state records show. He moved in and out of foster homes where some reports indicate he also suffered abuse. He lived with a great-grandmother and then an uncle. He lived at a juvenile detention center.
At various times, Laquan belonged to no one. He was a ward of the state, assigned to the care of the Department of Children Family Services.
That agency has a rocky history in its mission to protect abused and neglected children such as Laquan. A report filed in federal court in July detailed systemic failures: long wait times for children who need services, a lack of accountability within the department and a shortage of quality foster homes for older children, especially those with behavioral problems.
Many older wards of the state end up in residential treatment facilities that leave them vulnerable to assault, rape and prostitution, as detailed in a troubling 2014 Tribune investigation, "Harsh Treatment."
The report filed in court this summer came as a result of that series and a court challenge by the American Civil Liberties Union of Illinois.
In the report, four experts who audited DCFS described it as employing a "flavor of the month" approach to treatments and protocols, due in part to constant turnover at the top. The agency, they said, fails to employ proven strategies such as wraparound services, keeping children at home but providing therapy and mental health care for the family. DCFS "struggles to follow through with bringing promising evidence-based treatments to scale and, at times, takes a haphazard approach to the installation of new treatment methods," the experts said.
Even though Illinois took a lead role nationally in reducing its foster care population in the 1990s and early 2000s and implementing strategies that seemed to be working, the department "appears to have lost ground in recent years," the report concluded.
Indeed, the operations of DCFS veered to chaos during the administrations of Gov. Rod Blagojevich and Pat Quinn, partly due to crass politics and terrible misfortune. Blagojevich shoved political hacks into key positions at the agency. Quinn appointed one of the savviest directors DCFS has ever had, juvenile expert Richard Calica. But Calica had to resign in 2013 after only two years on the job, shortly before he died of cancer.
More than most state agencies, DCFS benefits from strong leadership and suffers when it is run by fools.
Gov. Bruce Rauner appointed George Sheldon as DCFS director earlier this year. He came from Florida's child services department where he was credited with reducing the number of kids removed from their homes. He also was known for transparency. He was not shy about releasing reports that revealed abuse and neglect and failures of the system.
Sheldon told the Tribune he was not surprised by anything in the July report.
We hate to say it, but neither were we.
DCFS is an overwhelmed agency with a critical mission: keeping kids safe. Its record will never be perfect, but it has to do a better job of pushing resources to the front lines -- more caseworkers and fewer middle managers -- and keeping accountable the social service agencies with whom it contracts for care, therapy, intervention and direct contact with families.
The answer can't always be money. The answer has to include overhaul, reassignment of resources and more flexibility from the unions whose members work for DCFS.
