Child abduction by the youth welfare office : Who will give me my daughter back?

A court finds: The city of Duisburg should never have taken her little Lara away from Janine S. But the girl has been living with foster parents for years. What now?

There is an elementary school directly opposite the orange apartment building in the south of Duisburg where Janine S. lives. Red clinker bricks, handicrafts on the windows, children's noise during the breaks. If her daughter were still with her, she could start school there next year, simply run across the street home after class and call out: "Mom, I'm back!"

But in all likelihood Lara, whose real name is different, will go to another school in another city, accompanied by other parents, her foster parents, the people she has been living with for five years.

Janine S. often looks over in the direction of the school. "It hurts me," she says. She often shed tears. It's a look at a parental life that hasn't been lived. "I missed everything. All the milestones: learning to walk. Speaking. Riding a bike. The youth welfare office stole my time with my daughter." An accusation that her lawyer Lukas Hugl will repeat in an interview with ZEIT: "This is the confiscation of a minor by the youth welfare office in Duisburg."

And indeed: In January 2023, almost five years after the youth welfare office ordered Lara to be taken into care, the Düsseldorf Administrative Court also decided that it was illegal. A representative of the youth welfare office recognizes this in court. On paper, Janine S. got it right. Indisputable, certified with an official stamp. The decision lies in front of her, protected in transparent film. The only problem is: It is unclear whether this will be of any use to her.

But first things first: For the first time in 2020, ZEIT reported on Janine S. and her dispute with the youth welfare office in Duisburg . "Is there a more difficult government decision than separating a child from its parents?" was the title of the text and dealt with a major deficit in child and youth welfare. Ironically, for this dramatic state intervention, there are no reliable, nationwide comparable standards, no adequate control. Instead: a patchwork of 559 youth welfare offices, which - most of them extremely committed, but often understaffed - struggle to do the best in the interests of the children, to serve the "child welfare". But what exactly that is, how this goal is achieved, when the maximum intervention is necessary, namely the state taking a child into care, there are no comprehensible rules, no systematics.

Janine S. also lacked transparency. She knows her life seems disorganized. Three children with different fathers, mostly dependent on financial support from the authorities. But that's no reason not to be able to raise your child. What was the red line she crossed as a mother from the state's perspective? What exactly would have been necessary for what reason, so that a life together with Lara could succeed?

Her case begins when Lara is four weeks old. After an evening with former work colleagues, Janine S. is raped. Doctors diagnose post-traumatic stress disorder. S. only sleeps under medication. She worries that she won't be able to look after the baby properly and finally makes a decision that she still regrets to this day: she turns to the Duisburg youth welfare office, Hamborn branch, for help. She wants to do therapy and put her daughter in short-term care for this time. After that, according to her plan, she will be able to take care of her baby herself again. "I trusted the office," says Janine S.

One of the older children lives with the child's father, with the others she always found a solution to all difficulties with other youth welfare offices. And so she brings her child to the foster family suggested by the youth welfare office, to the family with whom Lara still lives today. Later, a court will reprimand the agency for "not taking the necessary care in selecting the caregiver when placing the child." Because Lara's foster parents had wanted a baby that would stay with them, that they might adopt one day, not one whose mother would pick it up again after a few weeks.

"Dear Mama Janine," writes her daughter Lara, "how are you?"

But that's exactly what Janine S.' Wish. In the summer of 2018, almost two months after seeking help, she is feeling better. The doctors attest to her that there is "no danger to herself or others". As agreed, S. wants to take Lara back and raise her, with the support of a family helper. But the youth welfare office refuses to return it and sets conditions. For the good of the child, they say. To the mother's incomprehension. Janine S. should prove her educational ability. Goals are agreed, which an employee writes by hand on a piece of college pad: It says that Janine S. should first have her teeth treated, clarify her living situation, keep appointments. Certainly useful. Why her child is not allowed to return to her is not on the note.

On July 5, 2018, Janine S. loses patience. She announces that she will pick up Lara. The employee of the youth welfare office then resorts to what should actually be the very last resort: taking the child into care. A youth welfare office may only take the child away from parents if there is a danger to the well-being of the child and a decision from the family court cannot be awaited. But Lara wasn't such an emergency. She was accommodated, her mother basically cooperative; there was never an accusation that she was violent. A family judge had also communicated this fact to the youth welfare office by telephone. In addition, "the jurisdiction was already questionable," writes the administrative court in its decision, since Lara's foster parents live in the catchment area of ??another youth welfare office. The fact that the people of Duisburg ignored all of this made the taking into care "illegal".

The only problem is that almost five years have passed since this decision was made. Five years in which Janine S. and the city of Duisburg had a tough argument, a dispute that filled file folders that involved several courts, a dispute that devoured a lot of money and even more energy and that will probably not have a happy ending . Because while her mother bites her teeth in the conflict with the city, Lara lives an entire toddler life without her, with two people who, for all we know, take good care of her.

Janine S. received a letter at the beginning of the year. Lara dictated it to her foster parents. "Dear Mama Janine", it says. "How are you doing?" Lara writes about unicorns that she likes. That she now rides her bike to kindergarten alone. That she is going away soon and is very happy. And then it says: "I talk about you a lot and would like to see you again."

The last meeting between Janine S. and Lara was three years ago. Literally more than half a life for Lara. Janine is not allowed to spontaneously drive by and meet Lara to play, do puzzles and cuddle. The meetings must take place at an educational facility, an independent agency paid by the city to observe the encounters between mother and daughter. After some afternoon looks and gestures are logged. Janine S. does not trust this porter. The city accuses her of missing too many of these visits. She complains that meetings have not been made possible for a long time during the pandemic. Both are true. Mother and daughter have become estranged.

This was also determined by the family court, which ruled in 2020 that Lara was in good hands with the foster family. The foster parents now have custody. And so in this case there are also two court decisions that seem to contradict each other: The administrative court decides that the taking into care was illegal. The family court has ruled that she should remain with the foster family for Lara's well-being.

"It's bitter because the injustice that has happened can no longer be healed," says Lukas Hugl, S.' Attorney. But that's not uncommon in family law. The family court has the task of deciding what is best for Lara. The administrative court examines the actions of the administration. "Judgments like this should educate authorities not to disregard the law," said Hugl. But whether the administration that Janine S.' The ability to bring up children so stubbornly doubted that they want to be brought up is questionable.

The day on which the administrative court agreed with her was a very good one, says Janine S., she "felt better through the procedure, the tension, justifying in front of other people where my child is" has disappeared . But two months have passed since then. She had firmly expected that the city of Duisburg would approach her after the decision of the administrative court. "If they had come forward and said: 'We made a mistake, let's find a solution together', I would have given everyone a second chance."

Janine is allowed to bring up her little son, but not her daughter

But the city doesn't move. Janine S. had written a power of attorney that released the administration from any confidentiality obligation in her case. Those responsible should be allowed to speak openly with ZEIT. "I have nothing to hide," she says. How much would you like to hear the other side. Knowing full well that the task of the employees in the youth welfare office is a hard one. You have to judge the innermost parts of a family from the outside and you really shouldn't be wrong. If they separate a child from its parents unnecessarily, the damage is irreparable. Do they realize too late that mother or father are a danger, too. Shouldn't the office therefore explain its motives and its dilemma?

But that's not what Duisburg Mayor Sören Link wants either. "We are in a pending process," said his spokeswoman. "Against this background, I ask for your understanding that we will not comment further." In addition, it is pointed out that it is the city's job to "protect the well-being of the child if a legal guardian does not demonstrate the necessary aptitude to ensure the well-being of the child". The illegal taking into care is a formal mistake, nothing more. One suspects that this insistence on having done everything right is part of the problem.

And so a question that one would have liked to ask the youth welfare office remains unanswered: Does something play a role – at least subliminally – in decisions like the one in the Lara case that is never talked about? The economic situation of the parties to the dispute? Lara's foster parents can offer her much more. A house, regular vacations, a middle-class life. Janine S. is poor. Did she therefore have worse chances in the fight for her child?

Janine S. has now filed a criminal complaint against those responsible at the city of Duisburg for child abduction. Why? When she replies, she sounds adamant: "I want those responsible to be held accountable. The fight only stops when the right people have admitted their mistakes." Her lawyer considers the criminal charges to be promising.

And now? Janine S. says, "I really wish that Lara would come back." But she also knows that her daughter has long been at home somewhere else. "If it was said that she didn't want to, that would be hard. But then I would like her to come to my place every other weekend and during the holidays. That I'd be there for her birthday. That I belong to Lara's family. Without a youth welfare office ."

Sounds good. But of course it's not that easy.

Whether and when Janine S. can meet Lara is now to be decided by the youth welfare office, which is responsible for the city in which Lara now lives. After the decision of the administrative court, S. called there and demanded that she see her daughter again as soon as possible. But first one employee fell ill. Then another objected that one had to ask Lara first if she wanted to see her mother too. Finally there is a meeting in April. Janine S. is allowed to see her daughter again for an hour under supervision.

Lara's foster mother has recently become more and more monosyllabic in the chats with Janine S. Finally she wrote: The youth welfare office wanted the foster parents to exchange information with Janine S. as little as possible. Also because she had turned to the press. The strangest suggestion came from the freelancer who was supposed to organize contact between Janine S. and her daughter. They don't want to explain what could have gone wrong there either. But it was welcomed that S. wanted to work through her case. And referred to a "unique project": a series of brochures with self-written biographies of foster families and foster children. In volume three, the "giving parents should also have their say". Maybe Janine S. wants to take part?

Janine S says: "What I want is contact with my daughter. I want to pick her up from kindergarten so that she can spend the night here. Everything is there." Janine S' Apartment is sparkling clean. The walls are freshly painted. Plush carpets on the floor and, this is new, there is also a children's room. The door is secured with a playpen. A remote-controlled car stands on a play carpet. A blond boy lies on the bed, panting softly, Janine S.' two year old son. The little one has a cold and is therefore not in kindergarten that day. "Everyday life is going well with my son," she says. "Normal ups and downs, I would say. As with all parents. You can come to me unannounced, my apartment is always tidy. The pediatrician is happy. The kindergarten works well with me. I have nothing to do with the youth welfare office. "

That means the city of Duisburg says that Janine S. is suitable to raise her son, but not her daughter? "That," says Janine S. "makes no sense."