Two years after tragedy, can Guatemala rethink child protection?
| Guatemala City
Vianney Claret Hern谩ndez says she tried everything within her family鈥檚 means to help her daughter Ashley thrive. She built a sand-filled punching bag where Ashley could express her anger safely and applied for scholarships for a private school where staff might have more luck keeping her engaged.
On nights when Ashley disappeared from home, Ms. Hern谩ndez would jump into action, calling her daughter鈥檚 friends or showing up at their front doors.
Finally, when a judge ordered Ashley into a state-run home for youth, Ms. Hern谩ndez says she felt it was the right move.
Why We Wrote This
A 2017 fire at a children's home was one of Guatemala's deadliest disasters in 20 years. Setting the stage, advocates say, were deep-seated ideas about young people in need 鈥� ideas they're determined to change.
鈥淚 had exhausted all of my resources, and I truly believed the state could offer Ashley the psychological support and [educational] training that I couldn鈥檛,鈥� she says.
But on March 8, 2017, one month after entering the Hogar Seguro Virgen de la Asunci贸n, 14-year-old Ashley and 55 other teen girls were trapped when an overcrowded room caught fire. They鈥檇 been put there as punishment after trying to escape the home, where many allegedly were abused physically and sexually. Forty-one died from the blaze, including Ashley.
Institution officials and police officers reportedly stood outside the locked door as its turquoise blue turned to charred black, undeterred by the girls鈥� screams for help.聽A criminal trial launched last month, but hearings have been largely shielded from the public and media, local journalists say.
鈥淚 saw this as a solution, as a place of hope for Ashley,鈥� her mother recounts, eyes brimming as she strokes the arm where she鈥檚 tattooed a remembrance to her daughter. She and her husband, a construction worker, are raising their three other children in a poor neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. 鈥淏ut before [her death] and after, it was worse than negligence.鈥�
The grisly blaze spurred an international outcry. But two years after the tragedy, the country鈥檚 child-protection system is largely unchanged. The estimated 600 minors held at the 鈥渟afe home鈥� were dispersed to other institutions. Attempts to boost funding and amend child-protection laws have lagged.
But small, dedicated groups are pushing to change how Guatemala treats minors. It鈥檚 the very lack of attention to deeper problems with institutionalization 鈥� from abuse and corruption to the poverty that channels many children into the system 鈥� that keeps them motivated, advocates say. As much of the world turns away from large group homes toward other solutions, they are determined to help Guatemala keep pace.
鈥淭his was a clear sign of how unimportant children and adolescents are for [Guatemalan] society, and even more so the political class,鈥� says Carolina Escobar, director of La Alianza, which runs a residential program for victims of sexual abuse and trafficking. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 have a real protection system.鈥�
The danger in 鈥榮afe homes鈥�
The Virgen de la Asunci贸n safe home, located on the outskirts of the capital in San Jos茅 Pinula, is near the top of a hill and surrounded by dense forest. Razor wire swirls across the perimeter of the tall, cinder block walls enclosing the complex where girls and boys from infants to teens were meant to be cared for, either mandated by court order or sent by their own families.聽
The international trend in recent decades has been toward the deinstitutionalization of child protection, relying on alternatives like in-home therapy or foster families. Nearby Nicaragua, for example, has closed scores of homes over the past decade. Guatemala, on the other hand, opened the doors to Virgen de la Asunci贸n, a 鈥渕acro鈥� institution, in 2010.
鈥淏ig institutions like these were very famous in Europe in the 19th century. We are two centuries behind,鈥� says Ms. Escobar, noting that Asunci贸n was meant to house 400 minors but ended up with 600 and 800 at a time. The ideal size of an institution, according to UNICEF, is 24 children. 鈥淲e aren鈥檛 paying attention to the rest of the world, just responding to a very conservative society where children have no voice.鈥�
Advocates say children aren鈥檛 prioritized for a long list of reasons, from corruption to stereotypes that view children in need as future gang members who don鈥檛 deserve investment. A found that 鈥渢he concept of a child as an individual with rights is not commonly accepted鈥� in Guatemala.
Children in large group homes are often at greater risk than those in family settings, says Carlos Carrera, the country representative for UNICEF Guatemala. He rattles off statistics: For , for example, the child loses up to one month of development. Minors in institutions are six times more likely to be victims of violence.聽
There are roughly 5,600 minors institutionalized in state-run and privately run homes in Guatemala. The vast majority are run by churches, adding challenges in terms of oversight and regulation.
But a broader concern for Mr. Carrera and others is how quickly the system moves children to institutions. About 94 percent of institutionalized children have family who theoretically might be able to take them in. And at least one-third of residents are sent to institutions because of their family鈥檚 poverty. Nearly 50 percent of all children in Guatemala suffer from malnutrition.
鈥淭he solution to poverty can鈥檛 be to separate kids from their family. It鈥檚 a double punishment,鈥� Mr. Carrera says. 鈥淭he institutions reflect the lack of a social protection system that supports families in poverty or other dynamics like domestic violence.鈥�
From criminalization to protection
Most of the teens killed at Virgen de la Asunci贸n weren鈥檛 there for crimes but for their own protection, says Judge Juan Orlando Calder贸n, who had sent scores of minors there and to other homes. Although he did get complaints about the home, he says they weren鈥檛 nearly as serious as the accusations that have come out since the tragedy, like reports of sexual and physical assault.聽
Last year he issued an unprecedented sentence ordering the Office of the Attorney General to formalize a lifelong pension requirement for all the survivors of the fire that could be applied to future cases of state wards being mistreated.
Since then he and his family have received death threats. Many Guatemalans聽have blamed the tragedy on the victims themselves, portraying them as hard to control,聽or their families. Some social commentary has gone so far as to claim the deaths were a good thing 鈥� 41 fewer criminals for Guatemala to deal with down the line.
鈥淭he biggest achievement to come out of this tragedy is helping society see this as a protection process for victims, not the criminalization of children,鈥� Judge Calderon says.
In the Ministry of Social Welfare, Angie Villalobos, who oversees foster-family programming, saw the fire as the moment to take action on 鈥渞esponsible deinstitutionalization.鈥�
鈥淭here were about 15-25 foster families across the entire country,鈥� Ms. Villalobos says. 鈥淭here wasn鈥檛 a lot of interest or credibility in the program.鈥�
The disaster was an impetus to build up the program 鈥� educating judges on the benefits of placing children in family settings instead of institutions and trying to recruit interested families.
鈥淚n a home for children, there may be food and clothes, but there鈥檚 little personal attention,鈥� she says. Guatemala currently has 90 foster families, and Villalobos is traveling to far-flung states to work with local governments to recruit more. Most are interested in taking in infants and small children, assuming that the older children are dangerous.
鈥淒einstitutionalization is a long process, but I feel like we鈥檙e on the right path,鈥� she says.
Mr. Carrera from UNICEF says the organization is working with the government to bolster other alternatives as well, such as a pilot program to bring therapy and other services directly into families鈥� homes.
鈥極ne day we will see justice鈥�
When Ms. Hern谩ndez saw news about the fire on TV, her first thought was that surely Ashley had escaped. 鈥淭hat was just her nature; she was a rebel,鈥� she says. But she was still panicked, begging neighbors for money to travel to the home. Once she arrived, it was chaos: No official information was shared with families, and many parents and journalists were lying on their stomachs trying to peek under the black metal gate outside the home. Families started going to nearby hospitals 鈥� and the morgue 鈥� based on hope and instinct.
One group of four women, now known as Colectivo 8 Tijax, was moved by what they saw as government apathy. They began tracking the names of girls who were hospitalized, either in Guatemala or abroad, or declared dead and sharing that information with desperate families.
They were at the morgue for 22 days. 鈥淲e put out the first official list of dead,鈥� says Maria Pe帽a, one of the group鈥檚 members. She has spent years working with street children, many of whom she says escaped abuse in homes like Asunci贸n. 鈥淓ven the morgue was asking us for information鈥�. We got calls from government officials asking us how to tell families that their daughters were dead.鈥�
Since then, the collective has assisted families with their legal battles and continued investigating the home and circumstances around the blaze.
鈥淲e鈥檙e fighting to individualize these cases, make sure the government can鈥檛 just wash their hands of this and move on,鈥� says Stef Arreaga, another member. Their discoveries included that Ashley may have been molested in the lead-up to the fire and that she died in the home, not a hospital as Ms. Hern谩ndez had been told.
鈥淥ur work won鈥檛 be over until we can transform public policy around children鈥� to make them a priority, says member Mayra Jim茅nez.聽
Ms. Hern谩ndez says justice is what she鈥檚 seeking.
鈥淛ustice will help me believe this tragedy won鈥檛 repeat itself,鈥� she says, adding that 鈥淎shley is with me.鈥�
鈥淭he saddest thing in life is to lose a child. The government took away 41 of them.鈥�
