When every leaf is a flower

Autumn started on the 23rd. It was a lazy end of summer, little going on, not even any substantive or ridiculous appellate opinions (except for the one about spanking as domestic violence, which I haven’t gotten to yet). It’s as if the dependency system has stabilized a bit, a finally–if temporarily–well-oiled machine.

I know that’s not true. RTI kids are still getting cut. Medications are still being illegally provided. Reunifications and removals are being improvidently granted based on considerations unknowable by any party and not articulable by any judge. Kids are bouncing placements and aging out with nowhere to go, siblings are being split, fathers are denying paternity (some are having it thrust upon them), mothers are relapsing, crying, promising. ¬†Grandmothers are appealing hopelessly, forbidden boyfriends are waiting in parking lots, therapists are quitting, foster parents are grappling with their feelings, guardians ad litem are concerned (but that’s it), defense attorneys are objecting (but that’s it), and on and on and on.

Silence where there should be bedlam is disturbing. So to the quiet summer, I say a goodbye. May this Autumn bring a lot of noise.

 

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