Quincy was only 9 years old, but he had lived in close to 20 different places by the time he came to Childhelp.
The abuse he suffered was similar to so many stories we hear every day—not enough to eat, no one to watch him, physical and emotional abuse as well as alleged molestation—but his behaviors were more significant than most children we see. His mood would change without notice, he would often yell and throw things without provocation, and he frequently destroyed whatever room he was in just to express his anger. No one had been able to help him in all of his placements, but Childhelp was determined to change that.
Quincy’s “family” consisted of his social worker, her supervisor, and one very vocal judge who called in everyone who had some part of Quincy’s care and subpoenaed them to explain why he was not succeeding. Childhelp had only recently taken Quincy’s case and the supervisor who transported him to court that day had not had the opportunity to spend much time with him. As soon as the courthouse opened for the day, Quincy’s case was called, and a line of mental health, DCFS and group home professionals filed in, trying not to look nervous. Quincy was immediately taken to the judge’s quarters to enjoy some free-play time while the judge went down the line, grilling each and every program and service as to why they had not met their goals. Professionals began sounding like children as stammering and excuses filtered in to their testimony. Finally, the judge came to Childhelp.
“Mr. Brown, I see that Quincy has only been in your care for two weeks, so it’s understandable that you haven’t had the opportunity to make significant progress. How do you feel Quincy is doing in your program?”
Bud Brown, Quincy’s supervisor, proceeded to speak to Quincy’s recent behavior, his outbursts and how they had been addressed. He talked about the services provided at the Merv Griffin Village and discussed what activities Quincy seemed to enjoy the most. He was calm, confident and well-spoken, and the judge smiled.
“Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Brown. I keep telling everyone here that all Quincy needs is love, attention and structure. I can see he’s going to get that at Childhelp. And I’m appointing you, personally, as his primary caregiver.”
They were all ordered to return in thirty days and at the next hearing, Bud Brown again spoke. “Quincy has had only three outbursts since we last met. On the second occasion, we were able to redirect him in less then five minutes by offering him an alternate activity. The last one deescalated the moment we asked him to walk away from the group, and that was two weeks ago. He is participating in his program and has moved up a level in our behavior system.”
The judge beamed. “You see, people? It can be done. Childhelp has done in a few weeks what no one else could do in the last two years.”
We’re very proud of Bud Brown, and all the childcare workers, therapists and professionals who have worked with him. We’re also very proud of Quincy. Maybe he was just ready to make a change, or maybe the beautiful surroundings and tireless efforts of everyone at Childhelp made the real difference. Whatever the reason, Quincy’s life is finally on the right path.
“Quincy will be starting to meet with potential foster families in a few months,” Bud said. “He’ll be able to be a part of a family again soon, and that’s the best motivation any kid can have.” There are far too many kids like Quincy in the world, and far too few people like Bud Brown, but we are very fortunate that so many wonderful people have chosen to work at Childhelp. It is only with all of us working together that the miracles start to take shape. “We were able to do what no other program could, and that’s not only a gift for Quincy, that’s a gift for all of us, because we get to come to work every day knowing that we make a difference.”