A 16-year-old girl in northeast Louisiana worried she was running out of time to find a family of her own.
She had bright plans for her life and hopes for college, but she had been living in the state’s foster care system for years and longed for a family. One woman had looked into adopting her and they had spent a happy long weekend together, but a bureaucratic glitch and a record-sharing issue doomed the adoption.
The teenager wanted to share her concerns but had no way to contact the outside world and speak freely: All of her communications were being monitored by the group home where she lived.
Her concerns eventually found their way to Kathleen Stewart Richey, the new children’s ombudsman in Louisiana, who drove three hours from Baton Rouge to meet with her.
Richey, who described the teenager as remarkable, said she hoped to help her get in touch with some of her biological family members. But she was concerned that the girl had to jump through so many hoops to report complaints confidentially. And she said it highlighted one of several problems in the state law passed last year that created her job.
The Legislature agreed to create and fund a state children’s ombudsman after a series of deaths of children in dangerous circumstances that the Louisiana Department of Children and Family Services had been warned of. Louisiana was one of few states without an ombudsman who could review decisions and hear complaints about its child welfare system.
Lawmakers designed the position to have broad authority extending over the DCFS, as well as the Office of Juvenile Justice, the Department of Health and the Department of Education.
But Richey, a longtime East Baton Rouge juvenile court judge, said it has become clear during her five months in the job that the law must give her more leeway — both to investigate complaints and to speak directly and confidentially with young people in foster care or juvenile prisons.
“We need to develop a process where kids feel comfortable reaching out,” Richey said in a recent interview, noting that she is especially concerned about kids in secure custody and juvenile jails. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t let kids advocate for themselves.”
But under current law, Richey does not even have the power to subpoena confidential DCFS and juvenile records that she says she needs to do her job.
She has received about 60 complaints so far. A handful of themes have begun to emerge. She has heard from several grandparents who have not been able to get custody of their grandchildren in foster care. That pattern, she said, goes against DCFS internal policy that is supposed to prioritize family members for placements of children.
It also runs afoul of a 2023 state law that allows family members to intervene in juvenile court cases when a child is removed from a household. That allows grandparents and other relatives to ask that a child be placed with them, rather than in a foster home.
Richey said she is also concerned about the number kids who have finished acute psychiatric treatment but remain in hospitals because DCFS has not found placements for them. She said she wants the ombudsman’s office to help steer people through such problems.
“It’s got such potential to make a difference for kids and for systems,” she said.
Without records, verification is tricky
Richey started receiving complaints before she even started work.
During a Senate Health and Welfare meeting in September, where Richey was first introduced to lawmakers, a group of three women tried to testify about a St. Tammany Parish case involving a 3-year-old girl they said had been sexually abused. Lawmakers referred them to Richey even though she wasn’t on the payroll for another week.
“God bless Judge Richey; she’s going to have a full plate stepping in,” said state Sen. Beth Mizell, R-Franklinton.
Richey is OK with a full plate, but she says her inability to collect DCFS records has been a roadblock for both her and the people reaching out to her office.
A grandmother who testified to the same Senate committee in December said she would met with Richey, but needed paperwork to back up her claims.
“Her power is limited,” said the grandmother, who did not give her name but said she was trying to get custody of her grandchild. “She doesn’t have access to records. I can tell her whatever I want to tell her, but if the records are sealed or not privy to the public or not privy to her, she can’t verify anything I say.”
“That’s why there’s no accountability for some of the things that happen with DCFS,” she added. “Because no one can really verify what we are saying.”
DCFS records are cloaked in secrecy
Some iterations of the bill to create the new position last year would have given the ombudsman power to access juvenile records that otherwise would be cloaked in secrecy. But the version that became law sidestepped the issue altogether.
Lawmakers agreed to house the ombudsman in the Louisiana Legislative Auditor’s Office to build in a degree of separation between the watchdog and the agencies it would be investigating. Richey said the authors assumed the auditor’s subpoena power would extend to her as well.
But DCFS has not shared any records with her, and Richey said she would rather wait for the law to be clarified than file a subpoena and litigate the issue. Instead, she is receiving records shared with her by parents and other people who have filed complaints with her office.
“The statute does not authorize the departments to release records to me, so I’m unable to actually look at the records maintained by any of the state departments,” Richey told lawmakers late last year. “That’s going to be a critical piece.”
The DCFS has long used state laws mandating confidentiality in child abuse and neglect investigations to resist releasing information about those cases. Many other states, including neighboring Arkansas and Florida, are required to publish more detailed information about deaths and near-deaths of children in state custody.
David Matlock, the new secretary of the DCFS, said in an interview that he wants Richey to have access to the records she needs to do her job. Matlock was also a longtime juvenile court judge; he was on the bench in Caddo Parish. He has known Richey for many years and described her as being “strong as horseradish.”
“She knows child welfare,” he said. “She knows us; I know her. And a position like that could go many different directions. It can be a caustic, destructive thing. It can be a constructive, supportive, educational, informative, success-building thing. And she is committed to the latter, and I am committed to the latter, and that’s why we talk a lot.”
Richey also said she wants the law to provide more clarity on a requirement for her to release biennial reports on the conditions in juvenile detention centers, which have also made national headlines with reports of abuse in Louisiana. The law does not say whether Richey can show up to investigate those centers unannounced; whether the facilities are required to provide her with data; or whether she should investigate both state-run and private facilities.
In some states, Richey said, secure facilities include phones that allow children to reach ombudsmen and other authorities without being recorded.
Legislation coming up to clarify ombudsman's reach
Richey said she and state Sen. Regina Barrow, D-Baton Rouge, are working on updates. Barrow, who carried the bill that created the ombudsman, has filed Senate Bill 145 for the upcoming legislative session that would confirm Richey's ability to access records, among other changes.
“She has been a one-woman show,” Barrow said. “She’s doing a lot more than she’s been asked to do.”
Gov. Jeff Landry’s first budget proposes transferring $293,877 from the state general fund to the legislative auditor for the ombudsman. While the ombudsman is authorized for two positions, Richey said it is just her, and that they have used the extra money to raise her salary.
She hopes the Legislature will give the office more staff and funding. Eventually, she hopes to have at least eight staffers, including a deputy and at least one investigator apiece assigned to DCFS, OJJ, LDH and DOE.
Even in cases where Richey cannot take much action, she said people seem relieved to find an outlet to air grievances.
“Sometimes, just being heard is enough,” Richey said. “A lot of people say, ‘I’m sorry you can’t help me, but thank you for listening.’”
