When a child dies from abuse or neglect, what information does the public have the right to know? Federal and state laws govern the answer. Unfortunately, those laws are often misunderstood or ignored.

The commissioner of New York City’s Administration for Children’s Services (ACS), for instance, seems to think that he can make up his own rules. In an interview with NY1 recently, Jess Dannhauser defended his decision to release less information than what the law apparently requires: “I don’t believe that discussing the details of individual families’ lives is the best way to drive system change. When it’s important, when the public needs to know if we get something terribly wrong, I’ll make sure that they know,” Dannhauser said.

That’s not reassuring. Why should we trust the head of an agency to let us know when it gets something “terribly wrong”? And what exactly does “terribly wrong” mean, anyway? According to the federal 1974 Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act, states are required to “provide for the public disclosure of findings or information about a case of child abuse or neglect which results in a child fatality or near fatality.”

The language of the act is vaguer than it should be, but New York State has its own laws about these cases. In 1996, then-governor George Pataki signed Elisa’s Law, named after six-year-old Elisa Izquierdo, who was beaten to death in her Manhattan apartment by her mother. ACS refused to release details about the family’s significant history with the agency before the fatal incident. Elisa’s Law requires a public accounting of events leading up to the death of a child from abuse or neglect.

Within a few years, both the state and the city’s child welfare leadership tried to get around the law. In 2008, the state Office of Children and Family Services enacted a rule saying it would not release the reports mandated by the law if officials at the agencies decided that revealing the history of these cases was not in the family’s “best interests.” Of particular concern were cases in which there were surviving siblings, whose identities the agency worried about sharing. But even when there were no siblings, these “confidentiality” rules still seemed to restrict the release of information.

Child welfare advocates were outraged by the Office of Children and Family Services’ end run. Marcia Robinson Lowry, a lawyer and the director of Children’s Rights, told the New York Times that limiting access to records puts children in danger. “[The records] are something a public advocacy group or a think tank or a responsible party can have available to understand the systemic failures that have led to these children’s deaths,” she said. “They are critically important.”

The crucial nature of this information is about more than just exposing a poorly trained or lazy caseworker. We can find out if cases with clear warning signs are not being taken seriously enough by leadership. Or if important pieces of information are not being relayed to child welfare by law enforcement, for instance, or by school officials or medical professionals. A whole constellation of professionals may come in contact with a family—not to mention neighbors, friends, and relatives—and it is important to look for any problems that could be avoided in the future.

A recent case in West Virginia illustrates that the problem is a national one. Kyneddi Miller, 14, was found dead in her home on April 17. Her mother was charged with causing the death. Relatives had reported problems to child protective services. But West Virginia leadership is not sharing any details about what happened. The governor provided incorrect information at a press conference in May regarding the family’s prior contact with law enforcement before walking it back a few weeks later. According to the Wheeling News-Register:

DoHS [the state Department of Health Services] has been fighting any efforts by media outlets, members of the West Virginia Legislature, and the public to seek information from CPS as to whether CPS had received any complaints about the Boone County family or had conducted any visits, hiding behind their interpretation of state and federal law which they say tie their hands on providing any information. A recent Freedom of Information Act request by West Virginia Watch to CPS for travel records and referrals was denied.

Recent cases in Kansas and Hawaii also illustrate the extent of this problem.

Transparency when it comes to child maltreatment fatalities is vital. The American Enterprise Institute and the University of North Carolina have recently launched a joint project called Lives Cut Short, which I am helping to lead. It seeks to document these deaths and better understand the surrounding circumstances. But state regulations vary on what must be reported and how, and officials sometimes decide not to follow them. The lack of transparency in many states means not only that we don’t get the full story but also that we likely undercount these deaths. 

As the Lives Cut Short website explains, “When these deaths are uncounted, the victims unnamed and their stories untold, the opportunity to identify patterns, reexamine policies and practices, and take action to prevent additional deaths is lost.” Many of these cases raise public ire when first reported, but the outrage recedes, and agencies return to business as usual. If we want to make sustained change to child welfare policies, the public needs to get the whole story.

Photo: Catherine Falls Commercial / Moment via Getty Images

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