NEW YORK (PIX11) -- Harlem resident and mother Leeah Turner shared painful details of the difficult journey she's trying to navigate while raising her 17-year-old autistic son.
"I stood in front of the fridge to block him, and he threw me, and I landed over there. I picked myself up - I had big bruises. He's 400 pounds. He's a big guy," said Turner.
A "big guy" who, according to his mom, often experiences uncontrollable, random, and aggressive outbursts.
"He doesn't mean to. He can't help it, honestly. I know this!" Turner said.
In those moments, Turner said she feels powerless to help or stop Charmar.
"When you have kids, it's not about you," said Turner.
Turner's mounting frustration drove her to pick up the phone and request assistance from the New York City Administration for Children's Services; the agency commonly referred to as "ACS."
"I have nothing to hide. I just really needed help," pleaded Turner.
PIX11 News met Turner while working on a story about another ACS family, in her very same building.
One of the agency’s child protection specialists, or social workers, visited 4-year-old Jahmeik Modlin in July 2022 – right before the family’s case was closed.
Two years later, in October of this year, Jahmeik was found dead, the result of malnourishment, just a few flights up in his family’s sixth-floor apartment.
At the time of his death, Jahmeik weighed just 19 pounds. Both of Jahmeik’s parents are now charged with murder.
Jahmeik's maternal aunt recently announced plans to sue the city for $40 million, accusing ACS of negligence.
Turner said she isn’t surprised.
"I understand how it happened because they are full of crap. They do not do their job," said Turner.
So, it is within this context, and on the heels of Jahmeik’s headline-grabbing case, that Turner said she decided to weigh in and share her own experience with ACS.
"I'm very private. I'm doing this interview because I don't know what else to do. I've called ACS three times, for myself, for help. We had a safety conference," recalled Turner.
It’s a sentiment heard from several ACS families during PIX11’s reporting of the Jahmeik Modlin investigation.
Turner describes a pattern of occasionally consistent communication, but little actual help for Charmar, followed by what she calls outright abandonment.
"They closed the case. The ACS worker that I had, she came to me and was like, 'Ms. Turner, I was advised by my supervisor -- I have to close your case.' But I'm like, 'Aren't you guys supposed to be helping me?'" said Turner.
The tipping point, according to Turner, was a phone call from an ACS supervisor who allegedly suggested to Turner that she effectively surrender her parental rights during her son’s stay in the hospital.
"Someone from the head office, she called me at 3:30 in the morning, and she was like, 'Ms. Turner, just leave him. Leave him in the hospital.' Like he's a piece of trash. Like just leave him. They're going to have to do something. That'll get the ball rolling. This is crazy. Where's the help? I love my son. I love my son," said Turner.
Against the backdrop of Turner's allegations, and the recent death of Jahmeik Modlin, ACS Commissioner Jess Dannhauser agreed to an interview with PIX11 in Harlem – not far from Jahmeik’s apartment building.
His team informed PIX11 he would not be able to discuss specific active cases, citing pending litigation.
But Dannhauser did agree to discuss his agency’s trust and perception problems within the community, and lingering questions about ACS case management protocols.
"I think my team is doing an extraordinary job. They are trying to make sure that children are safe, and that we're building a system that families can trust," said Dannhauser.
PIX11 asked if he still sticks to that assessment, even in light of the recent headline-grabbing cases.
"I think it's hard without being able to talk about the facts. But I want you to know that my team is always reflecting and learning," said Dannhauser.
So what can ACS learn from Jahmeik Modlin, who died of neglect and malnutrition two years after ACS closed his case?
And what about the ACS supervisor who allegedly suggested Turner abandon her son at the hospital?
What does that allegation say about internal oversight and accountability within the agency?
ACS officials told PIX11 there are currently about 1,050 child protection specialists carrying a total of about 7,719 cases.
They often work in pairs and are required to document and discuss all aspects of their work with supervisors in real time.
Case timelines and activities are monitored on a system level, with any issues or improprieties immediately referred to the employment law unit.
"We are constantly using analytics. Every week in ChildStat, we're looking at caseloads, we're looking at how quick it took to respond," said Dannhauser.
But in 2024, ACS – operating in the nation’s largest city – still does not utilize GPS or any other technology or software-based tools to monitor the integrity of child protection specialists’ work -- during the management of their caseloads.
"We have lots of redundancies to make sure that our CPS are doing the job, and that we're giving them the tools to do it well," said Dannhauser.
PIX11 reminded the commissioner that there is a disconnect between what he was saying and what PIX11 has heard from parents out in the community.
"So, I want to make sure parents know we have an Office of Advocacy if they are concerned about anything in their interaction with our teams," said Dannhauser.
With Jahmeik Modlin and Turner's son, Charmar, in mind, PIX11 pressed further and asked Dannhauser whether he believed if there is anything that can be done to increase oversight, to increase redundancy, to increase the management of these cases.
"I think we have oversight from our state. We have oversight from a layer of child protective management," said Dannhauser.
Dannhauser also pointed to his decision to transfer agency leadership to borough satellite offices and bolster coaching to ACS caseworkers.
Still, the commissioner acknowledges there is work to be done to improve the agency’s reputation among the families it serves.
"We are always -- absolutely. We are always looking to build a more trusting system that New Yorkers can have faith in," said Dannhauser.
New York City Council member Althea Stevens chairs the Committee on Children and Youth.
"One of the things that I've heard over and over again from parents is like the inconsistencies from case manager to case management. This is something that I've been talking about, around how are we having technology being used for us. And not just kind of waiting for things to catch up," said Stevens.
Back in her Harlem apartment, Turner said she truly believes the clock is ticking against her autistic son Charmar as she continues trying to advocate for him, while pleading with ACS for help.
"There's no help. When I tell you I've been to the hospital 75 times this year. Where do you go when the help doesn't help? Who do you call? ACS? It's almost like they're waiting for something terrible to happen before they help. That's what happened to Jahmeik. He died. Why does it have to get to that for them to want to help?" said Turner.
In Turner's case, there seems to be hope.
A day after PIX11 brought her case to ACS' attention, Turner reached out to PIX11's Jay Dow and informed him that she'd already had two phone conferences with ACS officials, and was also told by an ACS unit director her son's school would be added to ACS' internal team discussions -- all in an effort to get Charmar additional services.
ACS also has a hotline set up to offer support from ACS' providers with zero involvement from the agency. That phone number in 212-676-7667.
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