It’s the law: Recent law a boon for vulnerable kids

I had a plain vanilla childhood. Thank goodness. Ours was a middle-class neighborhood with little crime or drama. Even though many families, including my own, went through the anguish of divorce, all the kids I knew had a family to fall back on. That idyll colored my vision of the world.
Then I went to law school. While there, I thought it would be useful to have a bit of real-world experience, so I looked for a clinical — a chance to do actual cases while supervised by a licensed attorney. Around the corner was a group called Legal Services for Children. At the time, I had no children and gave them little thought, other than that they were sticky. But LSC was convenient, and since I didn’t have a car, I felt I could stand being sticky just until I could get to the hand wipes. I remember the doubt expressed by the interviewing attorney when I applied. Other applicants had clerked for Supreme Court justices or had written lengthy dissertations on the societal effects of status offenses of children. I didn’t have any education related to children or children’s law. Nor had I ever done any activities that suggested an interest in children. I certainly couldn’t admit to being gooey-phobic or that LSC had been targeted simply because it was nearby. I must have evoked a sympathy vote.
Representing children turned out to be far from amusing. My first client was a dour teenage girl who wanted to get out of the foster care system in San Francisco and return to her home state of Mississippi. There was, however, another problem: She wanted to be close to her boyfriend, who was also her father — and grandfather. As lawyers, we are supposed to fulfill our client’s wishes, as long as it doesn’t break the law. Still, I couldn’t send her back to the monster. Sadly, I don’t know what happened to that girl. I fear she hitchhiked back to Mississippi, since that was how she got to San Francisco in the first place.
My second case was a delightful young man who had recently won a prestigious science award. He had no known father, and his mother, who practiced the world’s oldest profession, had not returned home in several weeks. This was not entirely unusual, but a day or so earlier, he had seen her waiting at a bus stop not too far from where he was living. He ran to her in relief, but before he could reach her, she jumped on the bus, vowing never to return. He sat alone with his grief in the grungy apartment he and his mother had shared for another week or two, until a school counselor found him and gave us a call. It was my job to find this youngster a guardian; otherwise, he would wind up in foster care. I’m happy to say that a relative agreed to be his guardian. It’s been many years, but the last I remember, he was signed up for college and doing well.
I learned to have no illusions. Generally, we took these kids from a terrible situation to a tolerable one. My personal goal was to keep them out of foster care, the stopgap when there is simply no family or friend who can be found to care for a child. Despite the best intentions of the state and most of the caregivers, the statistics for children coming out of foster care are, to be blunt, dismal. Imagine being literally thrown out into the world at 18 with no family, no resources and, at most, a high school education. Foster youth have lower educational achievement and are more likely to experience homelessness, unemployment, unplanned pregnancies and a drift into crime. Child advocates have, however, known for some time that if transitional benefits are provided from age 18 to 21 or 22, there is a substantial reduction in the problems historically associated with foster youth. The obvious explanation is the chance to attend college or train for a job, rather than hustle on the streets.
A few weeks back, the single most important piece of legislation to benefit foster children in decades was passed, extending benefits to foster youth until age 21. The legislation is, believe it or not, revenue neutral for California, because the funding comes from the federal Fostering Connections to Success and Increasing Adoptions Act. Not only the young adults, but we as a society, stand to gain. It means less expense on welfare, prisons and other social services for the children who formerly found themselves spiraling to the bottom of society. This law, phased in over the next couple of years, will go far to help our most underprivileged become neighbors you and I will be proud of.
I might still believe children are sticky (especially the young ones), but a chance encounter with a group of brilliant and dedicated child advocates, and the children we represented, remains the single most gratifying experience of my 20-year legal career.
Gary Redenbacher of Scotts Valley is an attorney in private practice. Contact him at ga**@re*********.com.