This paper describes the technique of participative case planning, a tool developed and used by the author for working with families who have had their children removed because of abuse and/or neglect. This technique seeks to assist families and practitioners to work together in an empowering way to return children home quickly and safely. The particular model draws on theoretical principles and perspectives of empowerment, case management, case planning, crisis intervention, task centred therapy and contracting.

The paper outlines the steps involved in participative case planning pom preparation for the meeting to its end. It also addresses a number of issues, including the role of the chairperson, involvement of children and non-return of children.

In a recent article in Children Australia (16:2, 1991) Moore points out how our system of social services and community work reinforces traditional concepts of family (especially mother) responsibility for the care of children with disabilities. This same attitude reflects a fundamental ambivalence in our society towards the provision of state assisted child care. Like care for the disabled, out-of-home care for young children is assumed to rest within the private sphere, so that state assistance in any form becomes gratefully accepted as a generous gift.

Child care in Australia moved into the political realm with the enactment of the Child Care Act in 1972. This legislation described the conditions under which the Commonwealth Government would distribute funds for capital expenses, and provide some wage supplements to non-profit groups delivering child care services in formal centre settings. Since that time, promises of increased Commonwealth funding to meet increasing demand have become more and more ambitious – 20,000 spaces were promised in 1984; 30,000 in 1988; and by 1990, the promise had expanded to 78,000 new child care spaces to be funded by the Labor Party. As it turned out, many of the 78,000 spaces promised during the 1990 election campaign were not ‘new’ at all, but represented already existing private spaces, now made eligible for funding by a change in policy. The bulk of the spaces meanwhile were targeted for after-school care (much less expensive to fund), when research clearly indicated the dearth of spaces and critical need for infant care (very expensive to fund).

Between the years 1960 and 1972, well over one thousand children in all spent a period of residence in the St. Vincent de Paul’s Children’s Homes situated at South Melbourne and Black Rock in Victoria. One wonders about the circumstances which bought these children into care and one also wonders where they are now, 20 or 30 years after leaving St. Vincent’s. How have they coped with the stresses of life during those years? Questions such as this led the author to embark on a research project. Few reports of research of this nature are to be found. The following description of one aspect of that project, the task of tracing the subjects, may go some way toward explaining the scarcity. It shows though, that tenacity can have some rewards.

This paper addresses a number of issues relating to welfare planning for children with serious disorders of attachment, including problems in relation to natural families, implications for caregivers of behavioural aspects of attachment disorders, and difficulties in implementing ‘permanency planning’ principles. Historical trends and cycles in policy formulation are referred to, and some suggestions are made with regard to directions for treatment and future planning of services.

If you go down to the woods today…

Matthew Arnold (1822–1888), the nineteenth-century English poet, wrote about the live murmur of a summer’s day’, presumably referring to bees, birds and other bugs humming around the countryside. A twentieth-century American (whom I believe to be a poet though not all would agree) wrote that The Times They Are A-Changin’ (1963). Nowhere have they changed more than in the English countryside. In 1991, it was the ‘live murmur’ of the summer’s night that was more likely to be heard. Out in fertile rural England the English people have discovered crop circles in their cornfields.

It is good to be in England in (the admittedly all-too-brief) summer, but quiet evenings in cornfields sleeping off the effects of English ales are a thing of the past. These days, find a cornfield and you will find half the media and a sizeable chunk of the English population. In some country areas, they say, it is quieter sitting in the middle of the road because you avoid the crowds. Crop circles in cornfields have seized the imagination of the public.