The Selfishness of the Division of Youth and Family Services Destroys Families

In January 2004, a New Jersey publication printed a letter written by Douglas Barnes in an effort to raise awareness about abuses taking place in the child protection system. He alleged that his son, Brandon, had been kidnapped by DYFS in an effort to increase New Jersey's federal adoption bonus. This year, temporarily ending a battle that had extended over the course of three years and four months, Barnes' parental rights were terminated by the state.

As the case heads to appeals, I have decided to delve deeper into what appears to be yet another example of New Jersey's failing child protection system.

It begins on October 4th, 2001, the day Brandon Lee Barnes was born into the world. His mother, Jane Doe*, had been coping with mental illness throughout her pregnancy, and a DYFS case worker met with her at the hospital before her son arrived. She says she was advised to surrender her son for adoption; the visiting case worker informed her that if she did not relinquish voluntarily, her rights would be terminated by the courts.

Doe says she never expected that her baby's father would be both eager and willing to parent their son alone. Though she describes her heart as breaking as she put pen to paper, she signed the form allowing DYFS to sever her rights. By law, any person accused of having a mental illness must be evaluated before s/he can sign such a document; Doe was not. The law also states that a case worker, witness and notary must all be present for the signing, adding that the notary and witness may not be the same person. Doe recounts that the only two individuals in the room with her were the case worker and notary. Suspicions surround the legality of her surrender.

Doe also reports that upon learning that Barnes desperately wanted to raise their son, she immediately regretted cooperating with the worker who had pressured her to surrender.


While newborn Brandon remained in the hospital, Barnes says he was told to be patient. Danielle Biasotto, the worker assigned to his case, advised him not to visit and assured him that he did not need to come sign his son's birth certificate. Instead, Barnes was encouraged to sign a voluntary agreement for Brandon to enter foster care he says, "While the details were worked out. They told me the plan was to send him home." Because of the advice DYFS gave him, a DNA test was eventually required to prove his paternity.

When Brandon was one week old, he and his father had their first meeting. Their encounter took place in the Flemington Burger King, despite Barnes' reservations about the appropriateness of such a place for an infant. Biasotto was present as supervisor, and according to Barnes, "It was humiliating. Strangers were informed that he was there with DYFS. It was an unnatural experience."

At the same time, Barnes met the woman who was caring for Brandon. He says he was led to believe that his son would be with her until the case was resolved.

Three days later, Biasotto handed Brandon over to a fost-adopt couple. According to a public internet posting made by the hopeful adoptress, "The case went on a fast track to ARC (the Adoption Resource Center)." While DYFS reassured Barnes that they were working to reunite him with his son, it appears that they were simultaneously promising that he would remain with his new fosterers permanently.
Barnes says that DYFS never informed him that his son had been moved from the original foster home. He discovered that fact in January of 2003, when he received pictures of his son with a woman he had never met.

Weekly visits between father and son continued, and Barnes says, "I cherished every moment with Brandon, but DYFS made me feel like a criminal every time I stepped into the office."

When Barnes discovered that his son could be sent to live with family rather than remaining in foster care, he says he immediately suggested his sister, Helen Pineda. DYFS discouraged this idea, allegedly telling him that reunification was in the works and moving his son to live with an aunt in Florida would not be in his best interests. By the time Barnes began to fear that DYFS was not being honest with him, and Pineda started to seek custody, the courts decided that too much time had passed. They would not allow Brandon to move into the three-bedroom home Pineda and her family had acquired specifically for him.

DYFS began to build their case against Barnes, first declaring that he lived in a boarding house that was not appropriate for children. He was ordered to find a new home with at least two bedrooms, in addition to taking parenting classes and being evaluated by a psychologist (selected and paid for by the state of New Jersey).

Though Barnes' home was eventually declared to be acceptable, as it was not a boarding house, he later found a new place to live. He also attended parenting classes: one required by DYFS and another specifically for fathers because he says, "It interested me. Since I had to do it, I might as well get as much out of it as possible."

In the meantime, Barnes reconciled with Brandon's mother. Doe's mental illness was under control, and has been for more than three years. She was employed as the care-giver for an elderly woman and later began taking care of two children. Nurturing is her profession. She says she loves being with kids, and "Not a day goes by that I don't miss my son."

In June of 2002, I had my first encounter with Barnes. He had seen an article in the paper about my work with adopted children and their families, and he hoped I would be able to assist him with his case. I could see, only five minutes into our conversation, both how deeply he loved his son and how painful their separation was for him.

At this point, Barnes was growing more and more impatient with DYFS. He had yet to appear in court, and he says, "I wanted to see that things were progressing." Though he says he had asked several DYFS employees for a copy of their policy manual, in order to learn how best to move his case along, he was ignored each time. It wasn't until he went to the Family Case Management offices to file a pro se motion to represent himself in a lawsuit against DYFS that an employee told him that he could rescind the voluntary placement agreement he had signed in order to begin court proceedings. "I felt like I finally had some control," he said of that day.

Barnes and Doe were both told to attend a hearing on July 18th, 2002. Barnes' sister, still hopeful that the courts would acknowledge her plea for custody, came from Florida to attend, and I was invited to meet them at the court house. When the proceedings began, both Doe and I were sent out of the room. DYFS said they were mistaken when they asked Brandon's mother to appear.

We sat and talked while Barnes and his sister anxiously followed protocol in the court room. Doe told me about Brandon's birth and the pressure she received from DYFS to surrender her rights. "I wanted my son," she said. But she says she was certain the case worker would have followed through on her threat to take him, with or without her permission. She appeared to be a woman beaten by her past and unable to fight any longer.

When Barnes, Pineda and several DYFS workers finally emerged from the court room, they began talking about Brandon. Only a few seconds into the conversation, one case worker stopped and demanded that Doe leave. "You gave up your rights. You are not allowed to know about him," she said. To this day, I have been unable to find a legal basis for her statement.

Shortly after that first hearing, Barnes had his first meeting with the court-appointed attorney assigned to his case, Tim Howes. Though he described feeling reassured by the lawyer's initially strong statements and promise that his case would take priority, Barnes quickly realized that both DYFS and his attorney seemed to be moving at a snail's pace.

After 15 months in foster care, the Adoption and Safe Families Act allows the state to terminate a parent's rights based solely on time apart. Barnes reflects, "DYFS knows what they're doing when they drag their feet. It's to their advantage, only."

Continuing to visit with Brandon at every opportunity, Barnes proudly shared stories of his son's accomplishments, likes and dislikes, and funny sayings with Doe and Pineda. They were all hopeful that someday in the not-so-distant future, Brandon would be a part of their daily lives.

After another hearing in August of 2003, Barnes had reason to believe their wishes might actually come true. Instead of terminating his rights, the judge requested a bonding evaluation. One had already been conducted regarding Brandon and his fosterers, and the same court-appointed psychologist was to perform both an evaluation of Barnes as an individual and a bonding evaluation of father and son. A neurological evaluation was also requested, as DYFS had begun to use Barnes' aneurysm ten years prior as an excuse not to return his son.

One bright spot that emerged at hearing in August was that Barnes was given permission to have a friend, rather than a social worker, supervise his visits with Brandon. I volunteered, and as quickly as the idea came about, it was shut down. DYFS declared that at 23 years old, I was too young for the responsibility. In fact, the DYFS employee originally in charge of their visits was 24 year old Biasotto, and the legal age requirement for foster care-givers (who are also allowed to supervise parent-child visitation) is 21.

Instead, Brandon and his father were permitted to have two supervised visits in my home. Barnes suspects that this leniency occurred only because a temporary change in workers removed Biasotto from his case. He notes that throughout his ordeal, she seemed more eager than any of the other workers for an adoption to take place.

During the visits at my home, the Catholic Charities worker who supervised them loosely from a chair in my living room recounted stories of Brandon's excitement to see his father's car arriving for their weekly meetings. She complimented both my daughter and the condition of my home, favorably comparing it to many of the foster homes she visits. While Barnes and his son played, I had the opportunity to observe the loving relationship between them. As a mother, I could see similarities to my own relationship with my daughter: when Brandon was feeling insecure, he turned to his father for comfort, and Barnes was more capable than any other at procuring peels of laughter from his son.

On October 24, 2003, court resumed again. This time, the judge would decide whether to reunite Brandon and his father or move toward allowing the fosterers to adopt Barnes' son. At this point, Barnes says he began to question his attorney.
"He said there was no need for us to have our own psychological and bonding evaluations yet. He said we would wait until the TPR hearing to present evidence on my behalf," Barnes says. This delay could very well have cost him his son.

After the hearing, the judge sent the case to the ARC. No evidence had been presented on Barnes' behalf, and the psychologists selected by DYFS testified against sending Brandon home. Barnes began to question his attorney's loyalties.

"He is employed by the state in a case that, if lost, has the potential to benefit the state financially," Barnes says. "He made no effort on my behalf."

Shortly after the case went to the ARC, I contacted Brandon's fosterer anonymously by email after discovering an internet posting she had made about Barnes and his son. Assuming that I was on her side, she proceeded to refer to Brandon's father as a "sperm donor." She also acknowledged that, as a medical professional, she saw no evidence of the deficiencies DYFS accused Barnes of having.

She discussed with me both her willingness to have an open adoption and her belief that it will be impossible because "[Barnes] calls himself Daddy to my foster son." She goes on, "I predict that . . . he will just fade away and accuse us of being unreasonable/making impossible requests of him and my foster son regarding their relationship."

I had previously heard Brandon call his father "Daddy" in my own home, and I hardly gave it a moment's pause. Barnes was, after all, Brandon's father in both the legal and emotional sense of the word. Now it appeared as though the fosterer planned to use their connection as a reason to back out of an open adoption once she became Brandon's legal guardian.

On February 6th, 2005, Barnes headed to court for the last time. His lawyer, who allegedly planned to use the TPR hearing as his one big opportunity to present evidence in support of his client, failed to contact any of the character references Barnes had suggested. Brandon's Aunt Helen, Barnes' step-daughter from a previous marriage, a long-time family friend, and myself all called his office in advance of the hearing to make our availability known. None of us received a response.

Barnes' attorney was also informed of several cases in which children Brandon's age were successfully returned to their parents after spending an equivalent amount of time with other care-givers. He did not mention any of these cases in his client's defense.

At the hearing, DYFS questioned Barnes' ability to provide for his child financially because of a recent injury.

"I was shot while traveling on business. I came out of my hotel room believing there was a fire, and instead, I was shot," Barnes recalls. Doctors say he is lucky to be alive. DYFS allegedly used his weakened financial state as one more excuse to terminate his rights, despite having a secure and loving home to offer.

Barnes' lawyer also refused to present the glowing psychological evaluation that had been conducted by a private psychologist. Believing that the case was about his rights alone, Barnes had not informed her that he and Brandon's mother were living together. It had not come up in their discussion, and he says, "This hearing was supposed to be about my rights as a parent. Instead, my own attorney made it about [Doe]."

Two weeks after the trial, Barnes was informed that his rights were terminated. He is determined to appeal "to the highest court," and vows, "I will fight this until my last breath. I have to do it."

His experiences with DYFS have given him strength, Barnes says, as well as many ideas for reform.

His first suggestion, had it been implemented in time, may very well have prevented his case from spanning the years that it did. Barnes believes that every parent whose child enters the system should be given a copy of the DYFS policy manual. It was only by accident that he learned what his rights were as an individual fighting the bureaucracy; it angers him that other parents will be subject to the same ignorant fate.

Another point Barnes has raised is the lack of accountability on DYFS' part. He believes that all conversations between case workers and family members should be tape recorded to prevent workers from making promises they have no intentions of keeping.

Barnes also questions the ability of a court-appointed attorney to provide adequate representation for a parent coping with DYFS allegations. He says that in our current social climate, with adoption incentives encouraging the state to terminate parents' rights, it would be difficult at best for a state lawyer to whole-heartedly do battle on behalf of his clients.

Also disappointed with the state's apparent decision to penalize both Doe and himself for a treatable illness, Barnes says, "They allow convicted child molesters to move into neighborhoods inhabited by children, saying that they have served their time and can safely be released. Yet a mother who has never harmed anyone, who has also been evaluated as well enough to be released into society, is condemned."

At every meeting, Barnes assures me, "I am not going to walk away. DYFS picked on the wrong father this time."

* Brandon's mother asked that her name be changed to protect her from the social stigma that so often accompanies mental illness.