State Tries To Keep Mothers, Kids Safe And Together

Rob Manning | August 9, 2011 | Portland, OR

There’s a big smile on Tosha Kandolf's face when she talks about her kids. She wears her pride on her forearms, too. Her kids' names are tattooed there in big, block letters.

But her face tightens when she brings up her violent ex-boyfriend.

"He was extremely abusive and I would get in fights in front of the kids. He actually strangled me until I stopped breathing. And he actually resuscitated me, and after that, that's pretty much when I got the restraining order and put him in jail," Kandolf said.

That was two years ago. Oregon's Division of Child Protective Services sent her son to live with his grandmother. Kandolf’s daughter stayed with her. The ex-boyfriend is dead now.

Her son has gone from age three to five at his grandma's house. Kandolf is still trying to get him back. She still has her eight year-old daughter. And Kandolf says she can see that the violence made a lasting impression on her.

"Something sparks something in her where she'll stand behind me. She'll grab my sides and stand behind me. She doesn't do that as often anymore. And my son –- the lasting damage on him –- he's not living with me, and so I can't really show to him that I can protect him," she said.

When the state intervenes in a family experiencing domestic violence, it's usually when violence -- or violent threats -- have gotten so bad that someone outside the family notices and complains.

Caseworkers often visit in the wake of a police call and present an ultimatum: leave your abuser, or lose your kids.

"That is the ultimate choice," said Nancy Jarrard.

Jarrard is a domestic violence advocate with Volunteers of America.

"If they choose to remain together as a couple, and there is a new incident, then the kids are more likely to be removed. It happens. It's really common," she said.

Jarrard says families can try counseling and institute safety plans to improve things. But Jarrard says abusers seldom change completely.

Tosha Kandolf didn't hesitate to turn her ex over to police. But many victims depend on their abusers, financially. Or they're afraid their abuser will track them down, if they leave.

"I've known multiple women that have just straight stayed with the guy. It's sad. It really is. But a lot of women they're so conditioned – and I think most people, when that happens, there's also drug abuse involved," Kandolf said.

Kandolf and her domestic violence advocate, Nanci Jarrard, agree that it's a complicated, sensitive situation. Jarrard says caseworkers can misread victims, like Kandolf.

"When I got the referral to her, she was labeled 'oppositional with authority figures, hostile, and aggressive.' But when I met with her, she was clearly terrified, kind of reinforces that belief that workers need to be more trauma-informed," Jarrard said.

"I felt like I was leaving one abuse situation to be abused by somebody else."

Jarrard and Kandolf say some caseworkers are better than others. But the bad ones frustrate victims.

"I would be frustrated, too. I would be angry. I'm not sure there's any level of defense you can provide for something like that," said Stacy Ayers.

Ayers is a child protective services program manager. His agency recently got six million dollars in state funding, and a federal grant, to help put domestic violence advocates, like Nanci Jarrard, into field offices. He says the stakes are high – because of where domestic violence can lead.

"We see time and again these cases where kids are severely injured, or killed, the murder-suicides and things like that. Just because at that particular time, they're focusing their attention on an adult, it doesn't mean that won't change," Ayers said.

Abuse-related deaths of kids rose from 13 to 22 between 2009 and 2010. State officials hope that by intensifying the focus on domestic violence, and bringing in experts, they can accomplish two goals: keeping mothers and kids safer, and keeping more of them together.

© 2011 OPB