The evidence is that we reunify many more children with their families than we remove.

Our children deserve a safe environment.

We need to support our people, we need to supervise them, we need to train them and give them the tools they need to do their job.

It's a primal thing, this very unconscious place with the fears of what can happen to your children and will you be able to keep them safe. I like all the different levels of fear that she goes through, from feeling like her daughter's out there somewhere, to worrying that somebody is hurting her. Then there's that place of utter desperation where you wonder if you're completely insane. Then there's that final turn, when she turns into a robot who will take anyone down.

The old / like children / talk to themselves, for they have reached that hopeless wisdom of experience which knows that though one were to cry it in the streets to multitudes, or whisper it in the kiss to one's beloved, the only ears that can ever hear one's secrets are one's own!

You see parents as kind or unkind or happy or miserable or drunk or sober or great or near-great or failed the way you see a table square or a Montclair lip-read. Kids today... you kids today somehow don't know how to feel, much less love, to say nothing of respect. We're just bodies to you. We're just bodies and shoulders and scarred knees and big bellies and empty wallets and flasks to you. I'm not saying something cliché like you take us for granted so much as I'm saying you cannot... imagine our absence. We're so present it's ceased to mean. We're environmental. Furniture of the world.