Social workers: Blame shared in death

By Truong Phuoc Khánh
November 5, 2006

Mercury News

Their job is to knock on doors and check on the welfare of children. They are trained to catch hidden signs of abuse, neglect. They consider whether the allegation is coming from a disgruntled neighbor or a credible family member.

Then they look closely at the child: Is he in imminent physical danger?

While Contra Costa County investigates the agonizing death of 8-year-old Raijon Daniels of Richmond, allegedly at the hands of his mother, Bay Area child welfare workers are loath to second-guess their colleagues in the East Bay. They know the public already has.

``Everybody looks for blame in a singular source,'' said Dan Weidman, who's worked for 18 years for the Santa Clara County Department of Family and Children Services. ``It's a simplistic solution.''

While the public demands answers and accountability, social services workers say it is the larger community that holds the key.

``It is such an enormous job, and we cannot do it alone or in isolation,'' said Sylvia Soublet, spokeswoman for the Alameda County Social Services Agency.

Schools, churches, domestic violence agencies, Soublet added, ``are all partners we rely on so heavily to holistically help a family.''

Alameda County gets 200 to 300 calls a week alleging child abuse or neglect. To remove a child from his parent, social workers need to have ``solid evidence,'' Soublet said.

``You can't take hunches to court,'' Soublet said. ``There has to be something that is verifiable -- that if this child is not removed, there is a risk of imminent harm and danger.''

Child advocates add that competence varies from one child welfare worker to another.

``Luckily, these kinds of fatalities are relatively rare,'' said Bill Grimm, senior attorney with the National Center for Youth Law. ``In more instances than not, children are being adequately protected. But clearly in this case, there are serious deficiencies in the way the investigations were done.''

The state evaluates every county's performance based on how many calls it gets, what percentage is investigated, and what percentage results in confirmation of abuse and removal of the child.

Chet Hewitt, director of Alameda County Social Services, and a former foster parent, called this a ``dual-edged sword.''

``If you remove too many children, you are perceived as a system that removes children on a whim,'' Hewitt said. But if something tragic happens, he said, the question becomes: ``Why didn't you remove them?''

Raijon's mother, Teresa Moses, 23, of Richmond, is in jail. She faces felony charges of child endangerment and torture of the son she bore at age 15. The Contra Costa County District Attorney's Office awaits the results of a coroner's toxicology report to determine whether to charge her with murder.

On Oct. 27 Moses called 911, saying Raijon was unresponsive. He was taken to Kaiser Permanente Medical Center in Richmond, where he died, his body covered in bruises, chemical burns, rope marks and bed sores.

Later, Moses told police she had poured toxic cleaners on her son's genitals to stop him from urinating on himself. Investigators suspect he drank household cleaner before he died.

From 2002 to January of this year, Contra Costa County child welfare workers received six calls alleging abuse or neglect of Raijon or his younger sister. Three times, social services workers investigated and visited Moses' Richmond apartment.

The mother cooperated with police; the son denied any abuse. He told one social worker that his mother took good care of him and they do ``fun things together.''

In February, investigators closed the case, ruling every abuse allegation as unfounded.

``Sometimes, it's not about kids falling through the cracks,'' Soublet said. ``Sometimes we're doing everything by the book, but even with our best efforts, we find ourselves in a position we wish we could have done more.''

Sometimes, their best efforts are glaringly not good enough.

San Mateo County child welfare workers were excoriated in 2003 by a judge for allowing an 8-month-old foster baby, who was in the court's custody, to visit his biological parents at Christmas. During the unsupervised visit, Angelo Marinda of Daly City was shaken violently on Christmas Day and died. His father was convicted and sentenced to 32 years to life in prison.

``There are times when it may be simple and straightforward, but my experience suggests the vast majority of these situations are very complicated,'' said Hewitt of Alameda County Social Services.

A 1 1/2-page summary of Contra Costa County's interventions on behalf of Raijon over a five-year-period only hints at the complications social workers faced.

It documents the two times Raijon ran away from home. Each time, the police brought him back.

Why didn't Raijon talk to the adults who were offering him help?

An abused child is wrestling with fear, mistrust and love for the abusing parent, said psychologist Don Fallin, who works with abused children and teaches at Argosy University in Point Richmond.

``This little boy, almost certainly, loved his mother,'' Fallin said. ``She was his primary relationship. He knew that if he told, he would lose her.''

If the adults in Raijon's life were not intervening on his behalf, Fallin added, the boy had no expectations that a social worker or the police could bring him any relief.

Raijon's body now rests in an Oakland mortuary. A funeral is planned for late next week.