Sunday, November 16, 1997
TrustLine:
New way to check out baby sitters
Vicki
Haddock, OF THE EXAMINER STAFF
CALIFORNIA -- Moraga mother Mary Beth Phillips sat in stunned silence
as a judge passed sentence on the neighbor's nanny, just convicted of felony
child abuse for shaking Phillips' 6-month-old daughter so violently that baby
Elizabeth lay partially paralyzed and permanently blinded.
Justice, in the eyes of the former
Alameda County Superior Court Judge Martin Pulich, called for the nanny to pay
a $100 fine and perform 2,000 hours of community service. No jail time. Just
probation. In fact, reasoning it would be wrong to deprive the nanny of a means
to support herself, he approved her new job as another family's live-in baby
sitter.
An outraged Phillips vowed to herself
and to Elizabeth that she would change things.
It was 1985, 12 years before the nation
would lock in bitter debate about the case of a convicted au pair and the baby
who suffered at her hands.
Phillips united with two others grieving
under similar circumstances: a Temecula woman and a Fremont mother, Bonnie
Reeves, whose baby shared a room with Elizabeth at Oakland Children's Hospital.
She lobbied long and hard to tighten California's loose system for
license-exempt child care givers.
The result of the efforts is TrustLine,
a state government hot line that allows parents, usually for a fee, to run
criminal and abuse background checks on potential baby sitters, nannies and au
pairs. Since 1994, TrustLine has given California parents access to the
nation's most comprehensive research on child care providers. And anybody can
use it.
The catch is, most people don't even
know about it.
And it's pricey - $90 per screening.
Yet for parents apprehensive about
hiring someone to watch their children - a trepidation heightened by last
week's sentencing of British au pair Louise Woodward for shaking to death a
baby boy in Massachusetts - TrustLine holds the promise of a baseline
assurance.
Now, its founders have won a grant from
the Pacific Mutual Foundation to pay for a spring public service campaign
tentatively keyed to the theme "When you need to rely on more than your
instincts."
"We're trying to figure out how to
really get the word out," said Phillips, who would love to see the service
heralded on utility bills, milk cartons, billboards.
"Right now, TrustLine really is
the best kept secret in the state of California."
It works like this: Parents wishing to
research a particular applicant can call TrustLine to see whether the
individual already has passed the background screening. If not, they can order
one for $90, so long as the applicant agrees to provide a fingerprint.
Sometimes, providers submit their own names and pay the research fee in order
to offer themselves as precertified by TrustLine.
And if parents are low-income and
qualify for subsidized childcare, the state does the TrustLine check for free.
Experts say the incidence of
"shaken baby syndrome" nationally has increased to 1,300 cases in
1995 from 800 a decade earlier, perhaps partly because of doctors' increased
awareness.
TrustLine is administered by the state
Department of Justice, which contracts with the California Child Care Resource
and Referral Network to handle inquiries - about 500 per week. Next year,
TrustLine will go under the jurisdiction of the Department of Social Services,
with wider investigative powers - for example, the opportunity to consider a
pattern of arrests without convictions, and to screen for convictions in other
states via the FBI.
To date, 27,000 child-care givers have
been investigated by TrustLine. Some 22,000 qualified applicants appear on the
database, meaning their past is unmarred by substantiated child-abuse
allegations or significant criminal convictions in California and, where an FBI
check is requested, nationwide. The remaining 5,000 applicants either are in
the midst of the approval process, have withdrawn from consideration or have
been rejected.
"Believe it or not, about 5 to 6
percent of applicants are disqualified," said Cindy Swanson, program
manager for TrustLine at the California Child Care Resource and Referral
Network, in San Francisco. "We've had convicted murderers apply, we've had
people with 10- to 15-page rap sheets - it's quite amazing."
That doesn't even count the nanny and
baby sitter wannabes who lose interest in a job when they discover a parent
wants to check them out on TrustLine. Others suddenly get honest, like the
applicant who said, "I suppose this might be a good time to tell you that
I've had my own children taken away for neglect . . ."
Parents and agencies who run checks on
applicants will receive simple yes-or-no notices from the state. Rejected
applicants will receive detailed letters from the Justice Department explaining
the decision. Accepted applicants remain on the TrustLine Registry, which is
updated continually.
Even so, the system has its limits.
Registrants are not required to have training or experience working with
children, or to have mastered infant CPR or first aid. A TrustLine check often
may take a couple of weeks.
And for now, the $90 screening covers
only California - an FBI search of the other 49 states requires a second set of
fingerprints and another $24. Likewise, the records of foreign au pairs in
their home countries are not accessible through TrustLine, although
theoretically such employees cannot obtain green cards through the Immigration
and Naturalization Service if they have criminal records in their native lands.
The registry's most critical
shortcoming is that it can never predict first-time offenders. The nanny who so
severely injured Elizabeth most likely would have cleared TrustLine before that
incident. Only one thing might have raised a red flag: In a bizarre twist to
the Phillips saga, the nanny had recently legally changed her name because,
unbeknownst to her employer, she was a transsexual man undergoing a sex-change
operation.
Like it was yesterday, Phillips recalls
going to a neuropsychology class one afternoon 14 years ago and leaving
Elizabeth for a few hours with her neighbor's live-in nanny. When she returned,
she was met at the door by the neighbor, who broke the news: "There's been
a little accident."
By that time, Elizabeth was in the
hospital, and the nanny already was attributing her injuries to a mischievous
pet Highland terrier - a story the authorities quickly jettisoned.
"I think what's so remarkable
about TrustLine is that it was parents who took their personal and
extraordinary pain and said, "This happened to my child, and I want to do
everything I can to make sure it doesn't ever happen to another child,' "
said Patty Siegel, executive director of the California Child Care Resource and
Referral Network. "It's one tool to ensure that people who've abused children
before won't be entrusted with the opportunity to do so again."
"It was a healing thing for
me," said Phillips, who credits former San Francisco Mayor Art Agnos,
among others, for championing her cause during his years in the Legislature.
"I know some people would curl up in a closet and never come out again,
but that's not me."
As for Elizabeth? An honor student who
long ago mastered her Braille computer, she has all but vanquished lingering
signs of paralysis, has carried the Olympic Torch, plays piano and attends
prestigious College Preparatory School in Oakland.
"She's a miracle child, and her
courage keeps me going," said Phillips. "She once asked me if I
thought it was a good thing that she got blinded. I said no, but I do believe
that out of that awful thing, we made good things happen."
TrustLine can be
reached at 1-800-822-8490 Mondays through Fridays from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.
©2000 San Francisco Examiner
originally printed by the Hearst Examiner. Reprinted with permission.