Social Policy in Ontario

But with the Ford government’s decision last fall to shutter the $13 million office on April 30, tens of thousands of Ontario’s most vulnerable children and youth will lose the sympathetic ear — and advocacy — of several dozen staff dedicated to their well-being.

These kids include First Nations children and youth, those seeking or receiving services from children’s aid societies, children’s mental health and youth criminal justice systems and those with disabilities or attending provincial schools for the deaf, blind and developmentally disabled.

When Bill Davis’s Progressive Conservative government created the Office of Child and Family Service Advocacy in 1978 as part of the community and social services ministry, it was a first for Canada — and the world.

Other provinces followed suit, with many establishing offices independent of government. Ontario’s child and youth advocate became an independent officer of the legislature in 2007. The office’s independence meant it could speak freely and release reports critical of government without fear of reprisal.

Elman, 61, also fought for — and won — the right to be informed when a child or youth dies or is seriously injured while in the care of children’s aid or within 12 months of CAS involvement.

That battle, launched in 2008 as part of his first annual report, was won in 2016 along with new powers to formally investigate any matter involving kids in the care of children’s aid societies, including deaths and critical injuries.

The advocate’s investigative powers will become the responsibility of the provincial ombudsman’s office on May 1. But Ombudsman Paul Dubé won’t have the right to investigate or even be notified of child deaths or critical injuries. Nor is he mandated to provide rights education to children and youth seeking or receiving services, or act as their advocate.

“Who is standing with those young people? Who is giving them a voice, even in death?” Elma en asks.

Although his second five-year mandate ended last November, Elman remained in the office until April 1 to help with the transition. But he acknowledges it has been difficult. He condemns the loss of a provincial ministry dedicated solely to vulnerable kids and $1 billion in spending cuts to the ministry of children, community and social services, announced in this month’s provincial budget.

“It would seemingly be a recipe to increase the number of child deaths,” he says.

Both the advocate’s Thunder Bay and Toronto offices are closing and the phone number is being transferred to the ombudsman. Just 30 of Elman’s 84 staff are moving to the ombudsman’s office to become part of a new child and youth unit that will handle investigations. Ten staff will be designated as “early resolution officers” to deal with complaints or problems that don’t merit a full-blown investigation. But they are not advocates for children.

As Dubé said in a February news release: “It must be understood that an ombudsman is not an interest advocate; an ombudsman is an impartial investigator who advocates for fairness and good governance, but not for individuals.”

Lisa MacLeod, minister for children, community and social services, has said she will be responsible for advocacy through new youth roundtables that will report directly to her. But it is unclear how that will work.

In a wide-ranging interview about his decade as advocate, Elman spoke to the Star about his achievements and his office’s sudden demise. Here is an edited version of that conversation.

Who are you worried about?

I’m thinking about a First Nations youth in Kenora. She got kicked out of a hospital emergency ward and she was seeking help. Somehow she got our number. She told us nobody was listening to her and that she needed help. We were able to talk to the hospital. Who’s she going to call now? It’s not the ombudsman. It’s certainly not going to be the minister.

I think of Chazz (Petrella). I think of his parents who called me too late. The day before he died (by suicide), his mom phoned us. She was having trouble getting appropriate mental health services for him. Nine (different) services were involved. We called for a service resolution to find out what was going on. That was the day before Chazz died. Who are parents going to call now?

I’m thinking about the kids in group homes who don’t need someone telling them about “other complaint mechanisms” when they are calling to say they are far from home and want to call their parents but are being told they can’t because they didn’t eat their vegetables or something. All that child wants is, first, somebody to listen and understand, and then help. Who’s going to do that? There’s nobody now.

This is harmful to kids.

I am hoping something will grow within (Dubé’s office.) It’s good that investigations will still be independent.

I’d even be satisfied if (advocacy) went back inside government … so it doesn’t wipe out 40 years of something that’s necessary.

What else is being lost?

My first report (in 2009) was called 90 Deaths: Ninety Voices Silenced. (The report asked why so many children and youth in care were dying every year, and why the government was not sharing information about these deaths with the advocate’s office.) People went ballistic. The coroner’s office, the Ontario Association of Children’s Aid Societies (OACAS) and others in the system were writing MPPs to shut me down.

The premier (Dalton McGuinty) called me and he said: “Keep going Irwin. One death is too many.” The minister called me and said what are you doing? You just threw a bomb into the system.

Ten years later, our office was building a new child death review process with the coroner and the ministry … The pilot was the (2018) group home review (of 12 youth who died in residential care between January 2014 and July 2017.) I like inquests more than the coroner. They are expensive, I get that. But I need transparency and citizen participation. The coroner built that into the review. There was youth participation, families, front-line staff … along with an independent “instigator” to make sure no stone got left unturned.

The coroner’s own report calls for an overhaul of the children’s services system, which is what we called for in our 90 Deaths report. And stakeholders, OACAS, Children’s Mental Health, Ontario Residential Care Association, the unions were all on board.

By putting young people and their stories at the centre, we brought everybody around … it showed everyone we have to do better.

I always felt child deaths were symptoms of other problems. The tip of the iceberg. But where are we now?

In the coroner’s latest report (covering 2016 and 2017) there were 121 and 126 deaths (respectively), of children and youth involved with CAS in the previous 12 months — the highest yet. The reporting is different and includes older kids (who have left foster care and group homes and are being supported in the community.) But that’s a death every three days. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, a child dies …

And what is the government’s response? They close the ministry of children and youth services (and amalgamate it with the ministry of community and social services.) They close our office. And they cut $1 billion from the budget.

This is in response to a child dying every three days and to the coroner’s report calling for a complete overhaul of the children’s services system? It would seemingly be a recipe to increase the number of child deaths.

What is your legacy?

Katelynn (Sampson) guided me. (The 7-year-old Toronto girl was killed by her legal guardians in 2008, shortly after Elman’s mandate began.) I know she wasn’t invisible to the people she might have been close to. But she was invisible to her community and had no voice.

We now have legislation (introduced in December 2016) that puts children and youth at the centre of decisions that affect their lives. (“Katelynn’s Principle,” is enshrined in the Child, Youth and Family Services Act.)

Feathers of Hope (a 2013 First Nations youth initiative sparked by the office) has just been incorporated as a non-profit organization and will continue to reach out to First Nations youth. Hair Story (a 2012 project for Black youth in care) has become a youth-led non-profit advocacy organization. The Ontario Youth Advocacy Coalition (of former “youth amplifiers” and others connected to Elman’s office) continues to meet and advocate. This is the legacy of Our Voice Our Turn (Ontario’s first youth-led legislative hearings on the province’s child protection system in 2011.)

My hopeful spot is that young people have changed the culture of the systems enough — not completely — but enough that those systems will … get together, include young people and talk about what needs to happen — even without government.

Those people who are now very supportive of our office — who originally weren’t — they need to step up and support them.

Young people’s legacy cannot be undone by this government. We’ve been here before. Governments are not permanent. Government decisions — and I am living proof of that — are not permanent. But when children are speaking up in agencies, when the minister is calling for roundtables, when pieces of legislation include their voices, when youth in First Nations are talking about creating an advocacy office of their own, this is the influence of young people that cannot be undone by any decision of this government.

What is next for you?

Nothing employment-related. I’m tired. I am spending time with my family. (Elman has two special-needs sons, ages 11 and 14.)

I am going to Japan in December to help a group that wants to create a child advocate’s office.

I’ve asked people to step up. I guess I’ll have to step up too. I’ve joined the ranks of the thousands of informal advocates who are trying to make sense of the world and our province (under the Ford government). To protect children and to protect their rights. So I’ll be there.

Laurie Monsebraaten is a Toronto-based reporter covering social justice.

https://www.thestar.com/news/gta/2019/04/28/for-years-child-advocate-irwin-elman-has-been-a-voice-for-the-voiceless-that-voice-has-now-been-silenced.html