By Leslie Odom
Assistant County & District Attorney in Ellis County
As I follow-up my first journal article, “Bridging the islands: enhancing communication between CPS and criminal prosecutors,”[1] with a second one from the perspective of a Child Protective Services (CPS) prosecutor, it only makes sense that I shift the focus more internally into the CPS and child welfare world and onto our caseworkers. Let’s be honest: Caseworkers have a focus different from that of prosecutors, and CPS is a different kind of client to work with.
My hope is by offering some insight into the day-to-day realities of caseworkers, prosecutors who represent CPS may identify additional strategies to enhance those relationships and their communication with caseworkers. In turn, this may lead to better case outcomes, or at the very least, a smoother process in working toward those outcomes.
What is the caseworker mindset?
If we are to improve our communication and working relationships with caseworkers, it is necessary to first understand the work from their perspective. What does a typical day look like for a caseworker?
DFPS has various programs and caseworkers assigned to those programs to address allegations of abuse and neglect from different approaches, including Child Protective Investigations (CPI) and CPS, as well as Family Based Safety Services (FBSS) and Adult Protective Services (APS).[2] CPS isn’t just about removing children from their parents and homes. There is so much more to it. For instance, the DFPS website provides the following list of duties for a CPS caseworker:
• taking over cases from CPI caseworkers after children are removed from their homes and placed in care outside their homes,
• determining each child’s needs and arranging for additional testing, evaluations, records, or further assessments,
• conducting home studies of family members or family friends (kinship providers) who might care for the child,
• making sure the people caring for the children have what they need and keeping them informed about the case,
• working with children, families, and communities to plan for a child’s permanent living arrangement,
• finding potential permanent placements for the child by meeting with parents, family members, and other people important to the family,
• making sure families get services to keep their child safe and help them keep the child at home,
• meeting with children, parents, family friends, or foster homes in public as well as in their own homes,
• visiting children at least monthly to see if they feel safe at their placement and to ensure their needs are met,
• participating in court hearings. This includes preparing a family before the hearings, preparing court reports, and testifying in court about a child’s needs, the family’s progress, and the Department’s efforts to achieve permanency for the child,
• transitioning children back home and providing support to the family until the legal case is closed,
• documenting casework activity, and
• maintaining good working relationships between CPS staff and law enforcement, judicial officials, legal resources, medical professionals, and other community resources.[3]
On any given day in a caseworker’s world, most of these duties are required, often many times over. Caseworkers are the coordinators of all the tasks the court orders families to complete. For example, they must timely make referrals for services so that the parents can’t later blame their delay in participation back on CPS. They must enter documentation for the children properly so they can receive necessary medical exams. And they must be able to speak not only to parents, families, and children, but also with law enforcement and court personnel. The DFPS list is a long and realistic perspective on the ongoing and collaborative nature of their jobs.
However, the list is not exhaustive. It doesn’t include, for example, a caseworker having to call a parent to inform him he has failed a drug test. It’s a single phone call, yes, but it alters the path of the case for the entire family. Because it isn’t just a failed drug test: It also means that the monitored return of his child, which the father had earned by months of effort and sobriety, will now end.[4] It means that his child will not be coming home from school to his father, but rather the caseworker will need to pick up the child from school, communicate this drastic change in his world to him, and deliver him to a foster home. Here’s hoping it’s one with which he is familiar and not another home of strangers.
And that is just one phone call.
A caseworker’s job is not only time-consuming and documentation-heavy but emotionally taxing as well. One day, she could be talking to a mom and dad to explain why CPS’s permanency goal has changed from family reunification to termination of their parental rights.[5] Another day, that same caseworker might attend the joyous adoption of a child, perhaps after a lengthy battle to secure his safety and stability.
Different perspectives
These duties and experiences shape the perspective through which caseworkers approach their responsibilities, clients, decision-making, and overall role within the child welfare system. They are operating in real time as daily events occur in their caseloads. In contrast, as prosecutors, we are generally focused on legal strategy and filing deadlines. Think of the difference as being at eye level with the activity (the caseworker) versus a bird’s eye view of the situation (the prosecutor).
Sometimes, we prosecutors need to pull the caseworker up to our higher vantage point. For a hypothetical example, a CPS investigator calls me to staff a case she’s been working for some time because she believes we should seek court intervention. She informs me that the family has a significant history of substance abuse dating back a number of years. There are concerns the mother is using methamphetamine again because she has twice failed to submit to requests for drug tests. The investigator has spoken with a neighbor, who observed erratic behavior and activity at odd hours at the family’s home. While the investigator’s experience is telling her there are safety concerns, sometimes what we believe is occurring is different from what we can prove in court. I have found myself in many legal staffings explaining just this. In such an instance, I would encourage further investigation and attempts to engage the family, and I would suggest speaking to other collaterals, such as the children’s teachers or daycare providers. I would also spend the time with the investigator in discussion so he understands my perspective. Filing too soon based on speculation would ultimately undermine our credibility long term with the court, especially if we made a habit of it. That’s the benefit of a prosecutor’s broader perspective.
On other occasions, perhaps while caseworkers are experiencing a case’s activity firsthand, they are not able to effectively put that activity into words for the court. By way of illustration, we find ourselves in a legal case that has been pending for many months, and the parents have worked their way through their service plans. However, the caseworker is concerned about reunification because, as she phrases it, “They’ve only checked the boxes in their completion of services.” To find out what she means, it’s sometimes a matter of spending time to understand her concerns and helping articulate those concerns for the court. We prosecutors can assist caseworkers in framing their concerns in terms of legally relevant testimony about the lack of observable behavioral changes, for instance, that can then be supported by various expert opinions and risk assessments. But doing so requires that we make time to staff cases with them and allow caseworkers the opportunity to work those thoughts out. (And let’s hope that caseworkers find the time to staff with us too.)
Reminders and insights
It might be helpful to explain how I’ve gained this refreshed perspective. In 2021, after 13 years of CPS prosecution, I needed a hiatus from the caseload after COVID’s adventures, as well as life throwing its personal and professional curveballs. Handling a caseload of felony drug possessions, aggravated assaults, and murders was a welcome relief at the time. I spent the next three years as a felony prosecutor before joining my current office in January 2025 to work with CPS again.
The difference was honestly a shock to the system. I had allowed myself to grow accustomed to the regularity of a criminal docket heavy with scripted pleas and hours in attorney workrooms negotiating over the terms of those pleas. Speaking regularly with law enforcement is a distinctly different experience from conversations with CPS folk. My return to the CPS world brought what seemed at the time like unnecessary and emotional details, and quite frankly, many extra words. Not to mention the variety of meetings—meetings to schedule the meetings for the planning of meetings. But more on that later.
I recall being in one of those first CPS dockets prepared with my line of questioning for the CPS caseworker. We were scheduled for a statutory permanency hearing. I was focused on providing the court with the evidence necessary for making its required findings, and I was prepared to elicit specific testimony regarding our permanency goal, the parents’ compliance with the family service plans, and the safety and welfare of the child in his foster placement, among other things.
But I was struck by the details the caseworker began providing—and with such sincerity and care. “He’s a happy, healthy boy who loves T-Rex and hamburgers,” the caseworker reported. “He can be a sweet kid but also is a typical boy and rambunctious at times. He loves drawing, listening to music, and animals.” This wasn’t the recitation of testimony I’d come to anticipate in felony court; it was human and unexpectedly tender.
Later in the week, I was scheduled to attend permanency conferences. These are much less formal meetings outside the court setting, and they are meant to encourage the parents’ collaboration and involvement in addressing their needs, to resolve safety concerns, and to amend their family service plans if warranted. For one particular case, it was the first such conference since the original filing and removal of the child from her parents. When the facilitator asked for an update about the child, the caseworker lit up and reported to the parties that the young girl in CPS care was “healthy, learning to crawl, and starting to pull up, but she has sensitive skin, so the foster family switched her brand of diapers in attempt to resolve the issue.” The parents teared up.
Moments like those—and there were many—reminded me that the seemingly banal details are important too! Yes, these details extend beyond the statutory requirements and timeline benchmarks that we prosecutors must always keep in mind, but the value of this reminder—at least as I experienced it, and I hope you do as well—is its humanity. Such details can be essential in encouraging the parents of our CPS children. Afterall, they are not seeing their children every day (or as often) as they were prior to CPS involvement. Their relationship with their children has changed immensely, and those detailed updates become a small view back into their children’s lives. It’s important that they hear these details from the caseworkers who are guiding their family on a path toward reunification. Hearing these updates about their children may even encourage parents to engage more fully in the process.
For me, these moments kind of recalibrated my approach. Hearing the caseworkers speak with such care about how the children were doing forced me to slow down and reset my focus. I’ve now become more deliberate about giving caseworkers space to share these sorts of observations and not merely focusing on compliance with service plans and such. There’s something genuine about it from which the presentation of our legal cases can benefit, too. We might find ourselves detached from the traumatic nature of CPS cases over time (drug-exposed babies, children with unexplained broken bones, and homes in a state of squalor), but I think we should often remind ourselves that judges and juries do not necessarily come from that vantage point. Detailed testimony reflecting the child’s daily life and individual needs or a parent’s sincere progress and dedication to services (or stark lack thereof) can be so meaningful.
How can we best gather these details from our caseworkers? It isn’t easily available to us if we just read the court reports or narratives. I’m reminded of times I would be in the CPS office during a scheduled parent-child visit. Witnessing for myself some of the visit is much different from reading a notation that the parent-child visit “was appropriate.” Be present, when your schedule permits, at permanency conferences with caseworkers. Being in those moments with them allows us to experience the details in real time. We gain insight into the dynamics of the case and the caseworker’s perspective and approach. From that experience, we can more effectively identify what testimony and evidence should be gathered and how it can be used later in the case.
Now, it does mean more meetings. Countless meetings will invade your calendar, and sometimes it will feel like you are having meetings to plan for the next meeting. As an example, if you are anticipating a contested permanency recommendation, such as changing the goal from reunification to termination and adoption, with announcement to occur at the next permanency conference, I suggest scheduling a quick meeting with the CPS team to discuss the reasoning for the decision before its presentation to the rest of the parties. Getting the team aligned will avoid the display of internal disagreement in front of everyone else. I also make time for monthly legal staffings with each caseworker and her supervisor when our caseload requires it. We plan a full day for the review of all our conservatorship cases. We discuss where we are in our legal timeline, we review our filings, and we set goals for next steps in each case. I find these can be particularly helpful for new caseworkers as well as those who’ve taken on a caseload new to them.
There are so many players in these cases: the caseworker and her supervisor (and sometimes the supervisor’s supervisor), legal liaison, parents, their attorneys, children, their attorneys, a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate, an assigned volunteer), and her supervisor. In my practice with my team of caseworkers, I do find a great deal of benefit to the “meetings to plan the meetings.” They assist in keeping us all on the same page—that’s a lot of people with whom to communicate! Which is all the more reason for consistency in what CPS is saying regardless of which one of us is saying it.
Helping the change-makers
Over the past year back in the CPS fold, I’ve realized not only how much I missed the practice of child welfare law, but also something even more valuable: I’ve gained a refreshed and renewed perspective on the CPS world and the caseworkers who inhabit it every day. As attorneys, we often have a degree of separation from the human side of a caseworker’s job. One particularly poignant moment for me occurred during a brief case staffing between court settings. I made a quick, judgmental remark about a parent, suggesting that she would likely return to substance use and fail at reunification. The hurt in the caseworker’s eyes was almost unbearable—and it stopped me short. In that moment, I realized how completely I had overlooked the time, energy, and hope the caseworker herself had invested in supporting this parent’s success. It was a powerful reminder to resist snap judgments, or at the very least, to express them with far greater care.
Please understand I am by no means suggesting that everything is sunshine and flowers in the CPS world and with our caseworkers right now. I know that many of us are struggling with caseworker turnover in numbers that make our heads spin. I know that privatization is bringing with it its own many challenges. Instead, I am suggesting that my refreshed perspective on the subject allows me to focus on the individual caseworker. The benefit is that I am fostering those individual working relationships and mutual respect. Only time will tell if this approach continues to be as productive as it has been so far.
In preparing to write this article, I stumbled across a video on the DFPS website titled “We are CPS.”[6] If you have a few minutes to spare, I recommend watching it. In the video, an adoption caseworker with 13 years of experience reflects on her long-term relationships with the children on her caseload, including one teenager who has been in care since the girl was 8 or 9. The caseworker describes the “overwhelming” weight of helping join a child with a permanent family. “I try to be a change-maker—I’m out there making decisions on the front line,” she explains. “At the end of the day, there’s one question you have to ask yourself: Are the children safe?”
And that’s it right there, folks. Her words capture not only why so many of the professionals we work alongside choose this calling, but also why we do. Her words remind us why it matters to strengthen how we communicate with and support caseworkers.
This practice is in its own world with its own language. But if we pause and remember who our audience is as we train, collaborate, and prepare for hearings and trials, we can meaningfully influence the quality of the work before us. We can improve both casework and case outcomes.
I hope by sharing my experience in returning to CPS prosecution, I’ve offered some insight—or perhaps a renewed perspective—into the caseworker’s mindset. Whether you’ve practiced in this area for years, are considering stepping into it, or simply find yourself assigned to CPS prosecution, I hope I’ve encouraged you as you collaborate, train, and work with caseworkers—those on the front lines, the change-makers.
[1] www.tdcaa.com/journal/bridging-the-islands-enhancing-communication-between-cps-and-criminal-prosecutors.
[2] For more information about the various duties of the caseworkers in these DFPS programs, please visit the following sites: regarding CPI, visit www.dfps.texas.gov/Jobs/CPS/cpi investigator specialist.asp; regarding CPS, visit www.dfps.texas.gov/Jobs/CPS/ cvs.asp; regarding FBSS, visit www.dfps.texas.gov/Jobs/CPS/fbss.asp; and regarding APS, visit www.dfps.texas.gov/Jobs/APS/aps_caseworker.asp.
[3] www.dfps.texas.gov/Jobs/CPS/cvs.asp
[4] Texas Family Code §263.403, Monitored Return of Child to Parent. A monitored return provides the court an avenue to return the child to his parent(s) while maintaining jurisdiction over the suit in order to continue to monitor child safety and provide services as determined necessary.
[5] Texas Family Code §263.3026, Permanency Goals; Limitation.
[6] dfps.texas.gov/Jobs/CPS/default.asp.