SOCIAL workers can get it wrong. And when they do it can be devastating. Just look at the roll call of child deaths where it's believed that had social workers moved faster, had more common sense, just done something, anything, then the ultimate result might not have been tragedy.
Victoria Climbie, Caleb Ness, Kennedy Macfarlane, Carla Nicole Bone, Baby P, Brandon Muir . . . all these children died, not at the hands of social workers, but at the hands of those who were supposed to love and care for them.
Admittedly, it cou
ld well be the case that social workers could have changed that outcome if they were properly trained, more experienced, and not hidebound by protocols which put form filling before child safety.
But these cases, no matter how horrific, are the public face of the failings in the social work system. What we never normally hear about are all those children who have been rescued from a lifetime of misery, or even an early death, by the actions of staff who are conscientious, who are properly qualified, and who are not yet so affected by burn-out that they think a heroin addict is an able parent.
Yet it does seem that, in Edinburgh at least, changes which can be effected after such tragedies are not just paying lip service to public demands but can actually have an impact.
Take the awful death of Caleb Ness. He was just 11 weeks old when he died, eight years ago, at the hands of his brain-damaged father Alexander Ness. Caleb had spent the first month of his life in intensive care recovering from methadone addiction due to his mother's use while pregnant, and was then released from hospital into the care of his father, who had previously been jailed for crimes of violence and drug dealing, and his recovering heroin addict mother, Shirley Malcolm.
A special inquiry in the wake of Caleb's death resulted in the publishing of the 250-page O'Brien Report, which found fault "at every level" of the health service and the city's social work department; that vital information had not been shared between police, health and social workers; and that there was a need for more accurate record keeping. As a result, 35 new child protection guidelines were issued to all child protection services.
Since then social workers, police and health workers in Edinburgh have reported more suspected cases of child neglect and abuse than anywhere else in Scotland. Indeed, more than 3300 children were reported in one year as being at risk of potential neglect or abuse, with children aged three and under making up nearly 1200 of the 2917 referrals last year.
It's not often I agree with Councillor Marilyne Maclaren but she is right that the high number of referrals does prove social workers and others are finally identifying and supporting children who are suffering from parental neglect and abuse.
But that doesn't mean the council can now be complacent. It only takes one blind eye to be turned, one conversation not to be had, one meeting not to be arranged, for another death to occur. There are still too many vacancies in child protection teams and a freeze on recruitment and spending, currently in place, means that is not going to change. The caseload of 14 that any one social worker is supposed to have at any one time currently stands at around 20 and is likely to rise.
Adding to the pressure is the fact that many who have served for years are on long-term sick leave because of the stress of dealing with such complex issues and a whole tier of middle management has also just been removed from child protection – that's the people with the very expertise which the Caleb Ness inquiry recommended should be put in place.
So let's not forget that while it appears that children in Edinburgh are being kept safe, there is already a tragic story behind every one of those 3300 referrals. But none of us can just leave it up to social workers to be the guardians of our children's safety. We are all involved.
A merry reunionREUNIONS are not something I normally go in for. The idea of meeting up with people from my past doesn't generally appeal. Been there, done that.
Yet last week I met with four girls I hadn't seen since I was 11 years old, when we left primary school.
But thanks to the wonders of technology – or Facebook anyway – we've reconnected. Admittedly, it was not without some trepidation that I headed to meet them, but what a laugh we had. And how little had they changed. There might have been some wrinkles, grey hairs, loads of children and a couple of divorces, but still, essentially, they were the same girls I used to play skipping and elastics with in the playground of Burdiehouse Primary.
The impact of seeing them again did leave me feeling melancholic for a few days. How sad not to have been involved in their lives for more than 20 years, how sad that there are people and events that have never crossed my mind since the school leaving dance. But now . . . well, I can't wait for the next meet.
