LACCM's new look
by Kristen Lombardi
For 15 years, Legal Assistance Corporation of Central Massachusetts
(LACCM) was the legal-aid office Worcester's poor turned to for help. But,
because of federal cutbacks and restrictions, a sister organization has moved
on the Legal Services' scene, Massachusetts Justice Project (MJP), a
federally-funded agency that offers advice, guidance, and phone referrals.
LACCM continues to receive state and private grants for the more traditional
legal work for which it has come to be known.
Take the work LACCM attorney Jean Murray did with school-discipline laws. In
the wake of the Education Reform Act of 1993, Murray discovered a "disturbing
trend" -- more minority students were being expelled under new guidelines that
gave expulsion power to school principals -- not school committees.
In Worcester, the school department had expelled about 100 students from
1989-'93, averaging 25 a year. Once Ed Reform became law, however, the city's
rate nearly doubled. The state Department of Education reported 55 students,
mostly minorities, were kicked out of Worcester schools in 1993-'94 alone.
"Worcester wasn't worse than others, but it wasn't better either," says
Murray, who represented students at expulsion hearings.
Murray found most hearings indicted students without giving them an
opportunity to speak, or allowing witnesses to testify. For instance, she
represented one Hispanic boy who walked past a skirmish and picked up a
discarded knife from the scene. The boy returned home, giving the knife to an
adult. But he was later expelled for carrying a weapon.
"There was not a lot of due process at the hearing," explains Murray. "It was
like the cartoon situation, `You're guilty until I say you're not.'"
Murray then got involved in a legislative lobbying effort to amend Ed
Reform.
A task force has drafted amendments -- granting an expelled student the right
to an appeal -- and they have been incorporated into a bill now moving through
the state legislature, Murray says.
Through traditional legal work, Murray was able to change problems in the
system. "Low-income people don't have a seat at the table. When you make laws
without the perspective of the poor, you make laws that don't work, no matter
how well-intentioned they are," she says. In this regard, Murray adds, the work
of legal-aid lawyers is invaluable.
Since January, LACCM has faced staff and budget cutbacks after its federal
money was directed to MJP. With a current $1.63 million budget, LACCM, which
handles cases referred to it by MJP, now focuses on what may be considered more
urgent cases involving the county's 73,000 poor, including divorces for
battered women, child-custody disputes involving abused children, and elders
who lose their benefits. Because of limited resources, LACCM has had to reject
eviction cases, uncontested divorces, and family adoptions. Major legal work,
like Murray's Ed Reform lobbying efforts, has also been pushed aside.
LACCM now stretches dollars and manpower by providing education, outreach,
and
client clinics -- programs the agency considers more effective in spending its
smaller budget. Terry Lacava, a LACCM paralegal for eight years, directs
programs that give overviews of imminent changes resulting from welfare reform,
for instance. Right now, she says, sessions have been directed at area service
providers, such as health care and neighborhood centers.
"Hopefully, educating providers will trigger a domino effect, so that
providers will pass on information to clients," says Lacava, who spends 10 to
20 percent of her time on "community organizing." Instructing providers, she
admits, is not the same as educating clients, but, she adds, "this is believed
to be a more efficient way to do outreach."
Some LACCM insiders point to Lacava's advocacy as the agency's most
successful
accomplishment since the reorganization. After all, they say, LACCM lost money
and staff, and that's had enough of an impact to prevent the organization from
effectively addressing "systemic problems" either through class-action lawsuits
or lobbying efforts -- which, of course, is the reason state legal-aid offices
reorganized in the first place.
"The split has allowed us to focus on our original mission," says Ruth LeMay,
a 20-year veteran. "But we haven't gotten our act together fully to do
[systemic] work. We're still in the process of reorganizing, and I don't think
we're in a position to take on a major case yet."
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