Tim Nangle: Progress, but still too many cracks in Maine’s child welfare system

By State Senator Tim Nangle

In September, the Health and Human Services Committee received a quarterly update on the state of Maine’s child welfare system. I’ve been on the committee for nearly a year now, and I’ve seen several of these briefings. But this one landed a little differently.

State Senator Tim Nangle

It was the first one since the passing of my predecessor, The Honorable Bill Diamond.

Bill was relentless in pushing for transparency, accountability and stronger protection for kids and he wasn’t afraid to say DHHS wasn’t doing enough. I think he’d have said what I’m about to say: DHHS is still failing in ways that matter. Kids are still sleeping in hotel rooms. Families are still overwhelmed and under-supported. And staff — although passionate and committed — are still being asked to do too much, with too little.

That said, there is some progress. The department has filled a number of long-vacant positions and reduced turnover, which is certainly encouraging. The department has launched a new strategic plan with clearer values and more accountability. They’ve rolled out something called “Intensive Short-Term Homes,” a 30-day model to get kids out of hotels and into stable placements while permanent solutions are found. They shared one story of a seven-year-old with autism who began sleeping through the night and communicating more clearly after moving into a supportive home and out of an isolating hotel room.

We also heard about efforts to better differentiate between poverty and neglect. A new law now requires that families be considered “neglectful” only if they have the means to provide for their children and choose not to, or if they’ve been offered help and still cannot meet basic needs. Too many families are being dragged into and overwhelming the child welfare system when what they really need is safe housing, heat or help paying for food.

If the department can implement and operate these plans successfully, it will be a major step forward.

But for every step forward, there’s a reminder of how far we still have to go.

At the briefing, I asked how DHHS is recruiting and approving the 270-plus "community sitters," who are now helping to supervise children in emergency departments and hotel rooms. I asked what kind of information and support new foster parents get when they take in a child. To be blunt, the answers lacked substance. They weren’t reassuring enough to say with confidence that every child is being placed into a setting that understands their specific needs.

I also asked whether staff feel the new sitter program is helping ease burnout, especially after last year’s controversial changes to overtime. Director Johnson acknowledged that staff were previously “very unhappy” and said adjustments were made, but I’ll continue to watch for morale and retention issues.

The bottom line is that this system is moving in the right direction, but it’s not moving fast enough.

Bill Diamond understood that urgency. He made it clear that when the state takes custody of a child, that child becomes our responsibility; yours and mine. We owe it to Bill’s legacy, and to every child in the system today, to keep the pressure on.

We need to understand that both state and federal law rightly protect the privacy of these families and their children. However, I’ll continue to ask tough questions in these briefings. I’ll keep listening to foster families, parents, and case workers. I’ll keep pushing for a system that doesn’t just survive scandal and tragedy but one that prevents them from happening in the first place.

If you’re a parent, a foster family, a mandated reporter or someone trying to navigate the system, I want to hear from you. Real change doesn’t come from a committee room in Augusta. It comes from communities speaking up and leaders listening.

Let’s keep pushing forward. There’s a long way to go, but we don’t get there by pretending everything’s fine.

For the latest, follow me on Facebook at facebook.com/SenatorTimNangle, sign up for my e-newsletter at mainesenate.org, or contact me directly at Tim.Nangle@legislature.maine.gov. You can also call the Senate Majority Office at 207-287-1515.

The opinions in this column are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the opinions or views of The Windham Eagle newspaper ownership or its staff. <

Insight: Repaying a simple gesture of kindness

By Ed Pierce
Managing Editor

On the day after Labor Day in September 1966, I walked through the doors of Carlton Webster Junior High School in Henrietta, New York and into an entirely different life.

Jim Quetschenbach and his wife Peggy attended
the Rush Henrietta High School Class of 1971
picnic on Sept. 26 in Henrietta, New York.  

I was in a new school, and it was a new experience for me attending a public school, after I had completed seven grades at a Catholic school in a neighboring town. But at my new school, I didn’t know anyone, didn’t know the teachers or have one friend. I was starting over at age 12 in eighth grade and wary about how I would fit in there.

In my Physical Education class, we started out the school year doing exercises in the gymnasium. I looked around and observed how lacking I was in athletic talent compared to my classmates. Many were showing the ability to stand out on the football field, and as wrestlers, and future baseball stars, but at less than 5 feet in height at that point and weighing all of 90 pounds, I just wasn’t in their league.

After one week of school, I had not made any friends, was very shy, and my lack of coordination made me the last student chosen for volleyball or softball teams during gym class. I was frequently bullied or harassed by larger and stronger students and it didn’t do wonders for my self-esteem.

One afternoon after gym class, I sat on a bench in the locker room and just felt totally dejected at my situation. But a classmate that I didn’t know walked over to me, put his hand on my shoulder and told me to cheer up and that things would be OK. His name was Jim Quetschenbach and his kind words made me feel like things might improve after all.

Jim Quetschenbach was everything I wasn’t, so his kind gesture that day took me by surprise. He was tall, good looking and excelled at many sports for Carlton Webster Junior High.

As the school year unfolded, he was right. I slowly made friends in my new surroundings and although I didn’t improve significantly as an athlete, I focused on academics and started to develop a talent for writing. One of my teachers asked if I could create a school newspaper and serve as its editor.

As we completed junior high and moved on to Rush Henrietta High School, Jim Quetschenbach was one of the most well-liked students in our class. As a sophomore, we elected Jim as vice president of our class, and he showcased his athletic abilities throughout his high school career as a member of the varsity football, basketball and baseball teams, including throwing a no-hitter once.

After graduating from high school in 1971, Jim became a registered nurse and went on to serve for 15 years in the U.S. Air Force as a flight nurse and captain, providing care for Air Force personnel and their families. He was following in his father's footsteps, as his dad had served in the Army Air Corps during World War II. Later, Jim also coached 15-year-old baseball players to the New York State championship and has worked in organ donation and transplantation for many years.

Several years ago, my wife and I were at a flea market in Scarborough, Maine. I was there looking for used record albums but stumbled across a vendor selling old magazines. He had stacks of 1950s Life and National Geographic magazines, along with other literature. Looking over his tables, I spotted a 1971 Section V New York State Basketball Championship Tournament Program laying there on one of the stacks. I opened it and saw a roster of my high school team from that year and recognized the name of Jim Quetschenbach in it.

For 50 cents, I took the program home and then made sure I took it with me last week as my wife and I drove over to Rochester, New York for a gathering of Rush Henrietta High School Class of 1971 alumni.

During a picnic on Friday afternoon, I sat down with Jim Quetschenbach and his wife, Peggy, who had traveled to Rochester for the event from their home in North Carolina. I asked Jim if his parents had gone to the basketball championship tournament games in 1971 and he said yes. I asked him if they had purchased a program and he said he didn’t know. I then asked him if they had given him a program from the games or if he had a program from that year, and he answered no.

I then presented Jim, a father of three and grandfather of six, with the program I had discovered at the flea market. Tears welled up in his eyes and he leaned over, gave me a big hug and thanked me for doing such a thing for him.

It may have been sheer luck that I found that program at the flea market that day, but I would like to think otherwise and believe that the universe placed it there for me to find and repay the act of kindness that Jim had shown to me almost 60 years ago. It’s true that every act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted. <

Rookie Mama: Fall hauls and soccer balls and budgets for the win

By Michelle Cote
The Rookie Mama

And here we are again, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve been winding down another season –turn, turn, turn – as the next ramps way up. It’s fall hauls and soccer balls; buttoning down garden beds and prepping our harvest residuum for winter storage as we crank up the sports-o-meter to 11.

We’re still in that odd seasonal transition, the autumnal Venn diagram of falling leaves and bubble wands.

I’m reminded of two things as I’m running soccer carpool and running hair-on-fire wild all at once – things that essentially point to being kind to your future selves in small ways now that will pay dividends later.

The first ongoing charge is to take the time to properly preserve any of your remaining garden harvest for the winter months ahead when you can – A big ol’ storing up of nuts, if you will.

For those of you who garden and may have bonus harvest such as tomatoes, peppers, beans, gourds galore, there are several ways to pack it up, pack it in to enjoy farm fresh – and free! – taste all winter long before we do it all over again next spring.

If your harvest is past peak, you can sometimes save non-hybrid seeds for next season.

My kiddos love to shell peas and beans while watching a comedy, like a modern-day Waltons’ front porch, but with Pixar.

Your garden is as full of gifts as it is compost bits, after all.

Just another benefit of money savings in the garden game.

Some of you may also enjoy canning – It’s both literally and figuratively quite the process – and this is a classic method to preserve garden goods.

My crew cans one day out of the year, a massive family assembly line effort involving colossal quantities of applesauce. It takes an entire day and several background Christmas movies, a special October dispensation for that weekend.

But my go-to for easy weekend harvest preservation is freezing and blanching as needed.

If you’ve got yourself an unexpected haul of beans limping along, chop up and boil for three minutes, submerge in ice immediately, freeze flat in labeled freezer bags.

Extra tomatoes can be milled into sauces, also frozen flat once cooled.

Freezing as a preservation method is easy peasy for your peas.

Remove from the deep freeze in the months to come when you’re ready for your own tasty farm fresh goods to complement a meal.

The second ongoing charge is not unlike the first in practice, and involves budgeting for expenses that lay ahead – Storing up of nuts in another manner of speaking.

In recent years, my husband and I began harvesting proverbial greens in another sense of the word altogether by setting aside small funds monthly for various familial budget lines so that when ultimately needed, we’d be prepared and reduce any risk of debt.

We save now, a little at a time, as we do with the food preservation.

We have several checking accounts that serve as account lines for various expenditures including house projects, car repairs, plowing and Christmas, among others.

Costs associated with each of these, whether planned for, such as Christmas – or not, such as repairs – come faster than a speeding soccer ball, burdensome and fast.

Because they’re inevitable, we bank up a bit each month now to ready ourselves for that time.

For example, each January I estimate what I’ll spend the following Christmas, divide that total by twelve, and contribute that dollar amount to my Christmas checking fund monthly in the interim so I’m not faced with holiday expenses all at once.

It’s straightforward, and can be accomplished on a timeline that works for you, and ultimately will ease your mind in the future when your next car repair or otherwise comes around.

A small but meaningful habit change.

So turn a new autumnal leaf and start banking up to be kind to your future self, whether it’s by storing up garden abundance now for use in dreary months, or by contributing small amounts regularly to important expense funds.

We’re winding down to hibernation mode for a brief respite, a perfect time to reflect on habits and how we may plan ahead now for better outcomes later.

To everything there is a season, folks.

And ours will be probably filled with a minivan carpool full of kids.

­­– Michelle Cote lives in southern Maine with her husband and four sons, and enjoys camping, distance running, biking, gardening, road trips to new regions, arts and crafts, soccer, and singing to musical showtunes – often several or more at the same time!

Andy Young: One of the five takes a vacation

By Andy Young

People who speak English employ 26 different symbols when they wish to exchange ideas in writing. However, while 21 of those generally recognized letters are classified as mere consonants, most knowledgeable lexicographers and polyglots see the others, the vowels, as the alphabet’s five most vital components.

That came to mind recently when I heard a soccer coach solemnly tell one of his pint-sized charges, a player who never seemed to pass to a teammate, “There’s no I in team.”

While that tired axiom might be the most ancient of old clichés, nevertheless it’s literally correct, since the alphabet’s ninth letter is indeed absent from the word “team.”

Mentors since the beginning of time have invented similar axioms by employing the simple “There’s no ____ in _____________” recipe. For example, aspiring realtors are told there’s no “D” in kitchen, no “H” in closet, and no “X” in garage, no matter what size abode they’re trying to sell.

Inexperienced cartographers learn early on that there’s no “E” in Bolivia, no “L” in Costa Rica, and no “T” in China.

Okay, technically there is tea in China. However, reasonable people recognize a semantic exception when they see one.

Persons who write and orate in English aren’t the only ones availing themselves of the 26-letter alphabet. Speakers and writers of Malay and Indonesian do so as well. It’s remarkable so many people can convey messages or other random notions, both verbally and in writing, when employing a mere 26 different characters.

While each letter is significant, the five vowels are by far the most indispensable. The chances of being able to write anything even moderately intelligible if they didn’t exist, are practically nil.

Here’s an interesting factoid: the Arabic alphabet contains 28 letters, all of which are consonants which can also serve as long vowels. A few other symbols are considered by some academics to be letters. However, they are not a basic part of that alphabet.

The Armenian alphabet is comprised of 38 letters in all, 31 of which are consonants. I had originally intended to list the seven vowels here for the edification of the Windham Eagle’s loyal readers. However, as was also the case with many of the Arabic symbols, few are available options on my keyboard.

In contrast, the Hawaiian remarkable alphabet consists of only 13 letters: H, K, L, M, N, P, W, ‘, and the same five vowels English speakers employ in order to correspond with their friends in writing. The ‘, the letter that transcribes the glottal stop consonant in Hawaiian, is called the ‘okina. For a better explanation of what a glottal stop (or glottal stop consonant) is, check with a syntax scholar, a prose professor, an expression edifier, or a terminology teacher. However, regardless of any odd-looking symbols, Hawaiians are getting by very well with an alphabet containing of only half the letters the one we’re familiar with does.

Getting back to the “There’s no I in team” thing, aspiring chefs and bakers are told both early and often by their learned and veteran advisors that there’s no “R” in cinnamon, no “M” in salt, and no “Q” in baking powder. There is, however, an occasional “B” in honey. (See “semantic exception” in this article’s sixth paragraph.)

Prominent clothiers teach their apprentices that there’s no “D” in socks, no “M” in shirt and, one hopes, no “P” in shorts.

Fledgling arborists are told, correctly, that there’s no “C” in Maples, no “E” in Oaks, and no “V” in Redwoods.

Which is something of a coincidence, since there aren’t any yews in this essay either. <