Tamara Lee spends her days trying to fix broken families. As a state foster-care caseworker in Baltimore, she spends hours talking with abused and neglected children and asking gentle but probing questions to gauge health, happiness and healing.
She is a human face in an enormous state agency tasked with caring for more than 10,000 children who have been removed from dysfunctional living conditions. In recent years, the Maryland Department of Human Resources has been criticized for mishandling implementation of a mammoth computer system, housing foster children in a downtown office building overnight and failing to provide proper medical and dental care.
And last week, lawyers who represent foster children in a long-standing consent decree charged the state with contempt of court in a huge filing in federal court. They say the state has persistently failed to meet the standards of care set in the agreement. State officials disagree and have promised to respond quickly to the charge.
For front-line workers like Lee, whom The Sun shadowed for several days in September and October, public opinion doesn't much matter.
Rather, it's the day-to-day business of caring for children that is paramount. Lee said she is hopeful that the department's new secretary - Brenda Donald, a former deputy mayor in Washington and Gov. Martin O'Malley's appointee - can bring about changes that will enrich the lives of vulnerable children.
Donald says she's dedicated to refocusing the agency. To that end, she has partnered with the Baltimore-based Annie E. Casey Foundation to study successful foster care systems in other states and start similar programs in Maryland. She has made improving foster care in Baltimore a priority and has called for regular meetings with city social services officials to chart the progress.
"There are some things that we do reasonably well," said Donald in a recent interview with The Sun's editorial board. "And some that need to be totally overhauled."
Lee, 39, a Baltimorean, joined the Baltimore Department of Social Services, a division of the DHR, as a caseworker in 1991. Although her undergraduate degree from Morgan State University was in business administration, Lee said she was drawn to social work because it allows her to come to the aid of needy children.
"I do believe that the children I work with are better prepared for being a productive person," said Lee. "I see myself as someone who is helping."
Lee visits the 20 children in her care at least once a month. At a foster home in Randallstown recently, she sat on a plush couch with a knobby-kneed boy who told her about his math class, the thunder he heard the other night and how much he loves his foster parents.
As the 9-year-old boy rambled, Lee listened and smiled. She later told a reporter that the boy won't be able to stay with the foster family, but that she didn't want to give him the news just yet.
There's still so much about his young life that is unsettled, Lee said. It's unclear if his parents, or their landlord, will fix exposed electrical wiring and blocked doorways at their home to make it safe for his return. Even if they do, it's uncertain whether the court system will allow a reunion. If not, a relative might have to take him.
"I know what I have to do to make the best plan for the child," she said.
Lee's workday schedule can be hectic. Recently, she started her day at Baltimore DSS offices on Biddle Street in East Baltimore, drove to Randallstown to visit two children, and then headed to Anne Arundel County to visit a third.
A significant number of city children are placed in foster homes in surrounding counties and states because the number of foster families in Baltimore has dwindled, from nearly 2,300 in 2004 to about 1,400 today, said Norris West, a DHR spokesman.
State officials have held a series of meetings with existing foster families in an effort to enlist their aid in finding new families. And although the reimbursement rate for Maryland's foster families was raised recently, it still lags behind some other states and the District of Columbia. Day care also has been an issue: Some counties have used unencumbered funds to pay for child care, but not all families receive the aid.
State officials acknowledge that they need to do more and plan to bring back child-care subsidies in the new year.
Besides visiting foster children, Lee meets with foster parents, biological parents, teachers and therapists. She also goes to juvenile court - she is required to go there every six months to review cases where a child has been in foster care for six months or more. Often, those sessions are also attended by a Legal Aid Bureau attorney who represents the child, as well as one of the child's biological parents.
The average stay of a child in foster care in Maryland is 3 1/2 years, according to Donald, who told The Sun that she would like to see children move more quickly through the system. About 800 children in the state are up for adoption, but it often takes years to legally remove a child from his biological family.
But for every child who is adopted, many more are returned to their families. Reunification is the first choice, said Lee, who works with parents who need alcohol and drug counseling. She also helps them sign up for classes on parental skills and gives them regular updates on their children. In some cases, children return to their families within a few hours or days, but if that's not possible, they stay with foster families or live in group homes.
Some foster children - including the 15-year-old sister of the boy who told Lee about the thunder - will stay with their foster families until they age out of the foster care system at age 21. The girl attends City College and is on track to attend college and move forward with her life, said her caseworker, Deborah Exum, who shared information with Lee at a recent meeting at juvenile court.
The women presented updates on the two children - two of six siblings removed from a family that has been unable to recover from long-term drug abuse. The father works at a garage, but he and his wife cannot keep up with the needs of their large family.
Before they appeared in court, Lee and Exum discussed the children with DSS staff attorney Tammy Countess. The lawyer used a personal computer to update both children's case files, asking about medical appointments, clothing allowances and their birth parents.
Countess was worried about the boy. He's been in foster care for 6 years and at age 10 the state will have to let him make up his own mind about his future. And there was another age factor to consider: Younger children tend to be adopted more quickly.
"He's already 9 years old," said Countess. "Wow, that's too bad."
Lee told Countess that she wants to change the boy's case plan - all children in foster care have them - from "reunification" with his birth family to "adoption" or placement with a relative. Even the boy knows that he would be better off with a new family.
"He recognizes that his parents have problems," said Lee.
Later, in the courtroom of Master Yolanda Tanner, Lee reiterated her desire to have the boy adopted. After a brief review of the boy's case, Tanner gave Lee the approval she needed.
"Move as quickly as you can to find a real permanent placement for this child," said Tanner.
It was a command Lee took to heart.
"You have to always think of the child," said the caseworker. "That is our most important client."
lynn.anderson@baltsun.com