My Job

I have a crazy job; no two days are ever alike.

Sometimes it's frustrating. Sometimes it makes me feel good inside. Sometimes it makes me lose sleep at night.

I get yelled at a lot. And that's ok. I see people at their worst. I get that. Every now and then, somebody says "thank you" or apologizes for being a b****. But I don't do the job to win a popularity contest.

I work for the Department of Child Services. I investigate child abuse and neglect.

That means that I am handed a paper with demographic information and an explanation of the allegations. I go to your home, unannounced. I explain to you, as a parent, that you are being accused of this or that. I violate your privacy, ask personal questions, and talk to your children. And then, I make a decision. The more tough decisions I talk over with my colleagues and my supervisor.

Sometimes, I enter into horrible circumstances: severe mental health issues, drug addiction, poverty, physical abuse, incest, molestation, or abandonment.

In our small, happy communities you can live your whole life not knowing that there's a whole other world down the road where these things are happening. I enter into that world.

I remove children from their homes, when necessary. I search for relatives who would be willing to take in the children. When no relatives can be found, I call foster homes. The next day, I testify in court with the parents sitting on the other side of the room.

Then, I refer parents for any services they may need: drug treatment, counseling, parenting education, home-based services, supervised visitation, etc. The state provides all of these services to parents and kids for free. Since I just do investigations, that's where my work with the family stops. I kick the case to an ongoing case manager in our office, and she works with the family for the remainder of the case. The goal is to reunify kids with their parents. As parents complete their services, visits with their children increase until the children are back in the home full-time.  This plan does not always go so smoothly. More often than not, parents don't show up to counseling sessions, continue to test dirty on drug screens, or even miss visits with their kids.

My job is frequently misunderstood. I believe that a lot of the misunderstanding stems from the bubble of confidentiality that surrounds the system. I simply can't share the specifics of what I do or who I investigate. As a result, with controversy swirling, the public is forced to trust that I am making appropriate decisions and dealing fairly with people.

That's my job in a medium-sized nutshell.