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All the caseworkers spotted the white powdery substance on the coffee table; they all saw the syringes and the empty bottle of whiskey near the baby's stuffed bunny. Yet, no one from the Division of Youth and Family Services wanted to ask family members about the obvious drug use going on inside the motel room where a 6-month-old was critically hurt the night before, probably from being shaken too roughly to silence his cries. The caseworkers were too uncomfortable to go there, one of them said of the drugs, even though they knew from the case file that the baby, Sean, had been born with cocaine in his system. They didn't ask about the drugs, even though they know they need to confront issues that a family being investigated for child abuse won't want to talk about. “Keep your questions child-focused. And don't be nervous,” said Dan Mills, head of new worker training at DYFS, as he coached 10 new-hires through their first simulation of a child abuse investigation. “Remember, this is a learning experience, not a test.” Mills has spent a lot of time lately offering encouraging words to would-be DYFS social workers. Under court order to reform after a series of shocking, headline-grabbing child-abuse cases, the division is bolstering its ranks in unprecedented numbers. Some 453 new caseworkers are slated to be added to the state payroll by this time next year, bringing the number to 2,000 caseworkers statewide and cutting caseloads that were among the highest in the country. New employees get 17 days of training before being assigned their first case, and they complete another 18 days of training in their first year with the agency, DYFS spokesman Joe Delmar said. The starting salary for a caseworker is $38,600 a year. The division has a $3.6 million training budget for the current fiscal year, a significant jump from the $400,000 it allocated for training in each of the past couple of years, according to Delmar. “It's very difficult work our caseworkers do when they go out in to the field,” Human Services Commissioner James Davy said. “If they're not trained, people can do more damage to children and families than good.” DYFS and 34 workers face civil action in the case of a Collingswood couple accused of starving four adopted sons after a child advocacy group sued on behalf of the three boys who are minors. Four DYFS workers resigned or retired after the oldest child, age 19, was found emaciated rummaging through a neighbor's trash. Child welfare workers had visited the home regularly because foster children lived there. A criminal investigation of child-welfare workers who monitored the family is not complete. A suit by the same group, Children's Rights Inc., forced a complete overhaul of the agency. The historic reform was already under way when the Collingswood case again shone a harsh light on DYFS, and the effort to change then intensified. “There's a new transparency to what we're doing,” Davy said of the agency's increased openness. “I want to make sure everybody is aware of what we're doing and how we're going about doing it. We need to be in partnership with community groups, with families, with the communities in general to better serve our families and children _ not just DYFS children, they're our children.” The missteps in the Collingswood case are one reason the agency has intensified its training regimen. After spending many hours over several days discussing the fictional case of Sean, it was time for one group of trainees to put theory into practice. The training exercise simulated actual fieldwork in every way, and the caseworkers' interviews were taped for later analysis. “Simulations are pure experiential learning _ a chance to practice all they skills they've learned,” Mills said. The simulated investigation began at St. Francis Hospital, where trainees interviewed the emergency room doctor who tended to Sean and a hospital social worker who met the family. The trainees were expected to get a layman's explanation of the baby's injuries from the attending physician, along with a preliminary diagnosis, and the doctor's prognosis for Sean. From the social worker, the group was to get information on the family, the circumstances leading up to the baby's arrival in the ER, and the family's history with the hospital. In two weeks, they'll be out in the field for real, though their initial investigations will not involve life-threatening injuries or sex abuse allegations and their caseloads are supposed to kept to under 12 for the first three months, Delmar said. Experienced caseworkers are handling an average of 42 cases, but many have caseloads ranging from 60 to 100 cases, Delmar said. For now, the trainees were focused on learning how to conduct a child abuse investigation. “How experienced is the doctor at diagnosing shaken baby syndrome?” asked Robert Ring, a veteran DYFS supervisor, during a conference with the trainees. “We didn't ask that,” one new caseworker offered. “I'll tell you, then.” Ring said. “She's very experienced. She's diagnosed at least 50 of these in her career.” Then Ring reminded his class: Don't take claims at face value. Probe deeper. Gather supporting evidence. A doctor's preliminary diagnosis carries greater weight if she's experienced. The daylong exercise culminated with a visit to the motel room that Sean and his parents called home. DYFS workers acting the parts of the family tried to give the trainees an idea of the resistance they might face during an actual home visit by only grudgingly letting them in the door, turning up the volume on the TV, and arguing with one another to distract the investigator. The exercise was challenging but insightful, said trainee Gary Byrne. “You go in thinking you're like Matlock and someone's going to say, 'Yes, I did it,' but they're not. You had to stay focused. You had to stay calm yourself.” Mills said he wasn't alarmed that the trainees slipped up over the drugs planted in the room, because they hadn't yet gained the experience to know what to do. “They're new DYFS workers,” he said. “After a while, they learn, 'My focus is on the child who sometimes can't tell me what's going on,' so I need to ask.”
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