My mind cannot escape the tragic story of AJ Freund. I watched with the rest of Illinois waiting for that little boy to be found, praying that the rumors on television were just that. Unfortunately, my gut feeling was right and his parents did what most of us can’t even begin to comprehend. I have so much to say on this horrible story, as well as many others that don’t get the media attention that AJ’s did.
There are many words that want to escape me, but I struggle where to begin. Of course I have the basic logical question. How did so many things slip through the cracks? On paper, it appears pretty cut and dry, but having been through the foster-care system and also having a child who has been labeled with diagnoses such as “oppositional defiance disorder,” I understand that nothing is at it seems.
Let’s start with AJ. I cannot think about this little boy without tears forming in my eyes. I literally feel a heaviness weighing down on my chest and force my mind elsewhere when it wanders to how scared and confused he must have been. I am utterly speechless when I think about the countless number of people who failed this child. My thoughts turn to Malachi and where he might be had the wrong people been making the ultimate decisions in his life. I didn’t know AJ, but I have read every article and watched all of the news stories and I know that he and my own 6-year-old had some unfortunate similarities. Through no fault of their own, they were born with so many obstacles already in their way. Neither one of them had a calm, nurturing and healthy environment to develop properly and prepare to enter this world. What I have learned over the past six years of neurology, psychiatry, pediatric, occupational therapy and psychology appointments, is that trauma in the womb is a very wide term and can cover a myriad of things.
I read that AJ was labeled with “occupational defiance disorder,” which is a very broad diagnosis to begin with. It is one of the many terms used to describe my son. Symptoms include losing temper frequently, touchy or easily annoyed, often angry or resentful, often argues with authority figures, actively defies or refuses to comply with rules, deliberately annoys others, blames others for his or her mistakes or misbehavior, has been spiteful or vindictive at least twice in the last six months. Those same behaviors could have been used to describe my daughters at any given point in their lives too.
My Malachi is genuinely one of the most polite, kind-hearted and giving little boys you will ever meet (maybe a slight exaggeration, but almost true). He feels deeply, cares about people and shares how much he loves me, without exaggerating, at least 10 times a day. He comes running full-speed into the room with the force only a child with ADHD can, hands shaking, screaming so loud that his eyes are bulging, and then he jumps on me with no regard for space or gentleness, and with a forceful hug he rapidly declares, “I love you so much mama, you’re my favorite ever in the whole wide world.” Then he does this whole-body shake thing, kisses my cheeks repeatedly while his body almost convulses with energy, and inevitably a knee, an arm or head-butt catches me. His mind and body betray him whenever any emotion is present. If he’s excited about something and displaying it loudly as he always does, and any sudden or unexpected thing happens to him (a fall, an embarrassment, a reprimand, an angry word from a peer, etc.), he literally doesn’t know what to do. Instantly, his mind, once again, cannot think with logic or reason. Only anger. My sweet boy disappears. He has learned a lot through all of the help we’ve given him, and he can now occasionally stop himself shy of a full meltdown with deep breathing, clenching fists, asking for water or a hug, or a few other strategies we’ve picked up along the way. I can only hope that as he grows the fits continue to get more and more manageable. He has been in the middle of one of his tantrums and literally screamed out loud, “Oh my God, not again, not again, why.” After we go through what calms him down and I ask him what he meant by that, he says “why can’t I just be good?” He has also screamed in the middle of an episode, “I want to die, I want to die.” Again, when I ask him later what he meant, his answer is simple, “I feel so stupid and dumb that I can’t stop.” Every occurrence ends with a full-on cry and nothing but remorse and apologies. Luckily, we have developed an understanding of Malachi, and we can usually thwart an episode at home with recognition and some coping skills we’ve learned along the way. Unfortunately, he does not have that same comfort level at school and is currently in an alternative program off site with six other boys who struggle with the same “brain trauma in utero” issues. He doesn’t want to be there, but told his teacher on the first day of school “I’m here because I just need some extra help to behave, but I am going to work really hard and get back to my other school.” Academically, he is thriving.
My point is that he is perfect the way he is, he just needs some coping skills, understanding, patience and love. We have yet to find the perfect cocktail of medications to help him, but still working on it.
We had an appointment yesterday and the doctor recommended an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor) and my first question, as always, was “will it change his personality because I don’t want to do that at all.”
I digressed to Malachi for a moment so that I could accurately portray how very difficult it is to raise a child with these particular challenges. The same challenges AJ had, but he did not have love and understanding at home. There was no one advocating for him. Even though Malachi is not aggressive toward outside people ever, he has been pretty destructive over the years and when people get in the way, they could get hurt. He can tear up a room in 15-seconds flat and would do just that to the principal’s office of his school on a weekly basis. He has a habit of running and hiding in the middle of a tantrum, and it can take the school an hour or more to calm him. I honestly don’t think there is any actual “thinking” going on when he is in the thralls of such confusion. I have sat on the door to his bedroom on multiple occasions to hold him in, while listening to him declare his hate for me, himself, his life, his toys – all while throwing whatever he can get his hands on. I haven’t had to do that in a while, but the memory of the tears streaming down my face as I was thrust forward and then back against the door when something heavy went flailing on the opposite side are vivid. It’s the most helpless feeling in the world to want to help your baby and not be able to. It’s also extremely frustrating. To watch them suffer and be clueless on how to make it better is infuriating. To have a list of things to do at home, but have to stop and handle an hour-long fit can be depressing. I have never struck Malachi out of anger during his tantrums, but I have certainly had to remove myself from the situation, and I am not proud to admit, said things that I instantly regret. I have come a long way as well. He is still restrained at school on a weekly basis and I thank God that we have patient teachers dealing with him. On those rough days we try to focus on the positive. We concentrate on the fact that he was only restrained for 5 minutes as opposed to 30 and we praise the strategy that he used to calm himself. We definitely celebrate the good days, and there are more and more of them as he grows.
I am not a drug addict. I am, for the most part, mentally able and healthy. We knew what we were possibly getting into when we decided to foster a child. The behavior that comes with my beautiful, extremely smart and funny son is still a very time-consuming and difficult presence in our home but we celebrate the small victories and look forward to even more progress. I cannot imagine if Malachi was being raised in an environment where he was constantly shamed and ridiculed for behavior that is out of his control. The way I assume AJ’s mother berated him for a condition that she ultimately gave to him.
Let’s move on to her. JoAnn Cunningham was a foster parent in 2012. This case has rendered me speechless on so many things, but this one does not surprise me. The child welfare system is desperate for homes to send these kids to. She gave birth to AJ in 2013 and he had opiates and benzodiazepines in his system. Was she doing drugs when she was a foster mother? Likely. I was not tested for drugs when I became one, so I doubt she was either. She had two cases opened in her foster-parenting years. The first one was for inadequate supervision and the second for risk of harm and environmental neglect. Both were unfounded. Clearly things need to change in this arena. Being in the system and having dealt with other foster parents, I can assure you that there are many people who carry that title and shouldn’t.
I cannot find any records on how well JoAnn Cunningham did the first 18 months of AJ’s life, when she was trying to get custody back. When he was in a solid, stable and loving foster home. Did she attend parenting classes? Was she properly bonded with him? Was she drug tested? Was AJ getting the help he needed for his behavior issues? It took our judge three-plus years to finally decide that Malachi’s bio-mom was unfit. Even though it was documented and evaluated and proven that she could not care for him within the first year. She was given far too much time and consideration. The interest of the child is undoubtedly lost in the whole “reunification” attempt. I’m not saying it can’t be done, that a parent can’t turn around their life, but sometimes I think that common sense is lacking in the powers that be. I am convinced that money is a driving force to keep a case in the system. I learned a lot through my private, “off-the-record” conversations with caseworkers and attorneys. I also witnessed a bit first-hand. I know that money is a driving force behind most of the private agencies. The way I understood it was that the agencies are paid a flat fee per family and the larger the family the more money they got. Then they bill the state for each visit whether it be a caseworker/foster mom visit, a caseworker/bio-mom visit, a bio-mom/child visit, etc. So if bio-mom doesn’t show to a visit, regardless of the reason, it is rescheduled until she does, and this I witnessed first-hand. There were a few occasions when my caseworker did charge a visit that didn’t happen when it came to my monthly home visits. The caseworker would meet me and Malachi at our office where bio-mom would come for her supervised visit. The caseworker would observe them from afar and talk with me and call that my “home visit.” Obviously I didn’t think too much of it and in fact appreciated it, but in the end, it was a lie. The agency conveniently came up with excuse after excuse after the judge finally terminated mom’s rights and it was a full year before we could officially adopt him after that.
I have been accused of being a “bleeding-heart liberal” a time or two, and even though I hate that label, I understand the meaning and own that it might be true. I believe that the key to living cohesively is to genuinely try and see another perspective. I am human and quick to judge when there is a topic that gets me emotional; however, I have found that at least trying to understand where someone is coming from can help remove the emotion and add clarity to try and solve a problem. I’m a huge fan of motivational sayings, poems and positive quotes and I relentlessly text them to my daughters to drill in their brains that there is always another perspective. One in particular that struck me was, “You see a junkie. I see a daughter. You see a choice. I see a disease. You see hopeless. I see helpless.” This is where the bleeding heart gets me in trouble. When I think about JoAnn Cunningham I do not feel bad for her, but I do understand that this was not entirely her fault. Do I believe she is to blame for her actions? Most definitely. Do I believe that she should be given the maximum of whatever the law can give her? Absolutely. Do I think she has a problem and others should have stepped in and ultimately helped AJ? Without a doubt, yes. Unfortunately in this case other people did try. Several people called DCFS on JoAnn and they always had the same findings. Unfounded.
DCFS brought me my son and I will forever be grateful for anyone who assisted in that part of my life’s journey, but the system is SEVERELY flawed. From the foster parents who are trusted and shouldn’t be, to the laws that are broken or stretched just to make money, to the overworked and underpaid caseworkers and attorneys who are expected to handle so many precious lives.
In the four years that Malachi was a ward of the state we had seven caseworkers. Only one of them stayed for more than a few months. In the end, I watched her go from an eager, bright-eyed woman set out to make a difference, to an angry, overworked and frustrated worker who couldn’t wait to get out. I have never claimed to know the answers, but each time I hear a story of a child being overlooked in the political madness of the system I feel more and more like I need to do something. I have NO IDEA what that something could be, but I do know that things need to change. I hope that someone with the knowledge and drive takes AJ’s tragedy and works toward making the focus of DCFS truly protecting the child in every case.
Letters to the Judge 