But all of life's lessons, combined with 28
years 01 experience within the state's social welfare system, could not prepare
Kitchel for the challenges she faces as the new Republican Congress redefines
welfare.
Congressional budget cutting in combination
with a looming state budget crisis; have put Kitchel in the position of having
to defend plans to cut benefits to Vermont's elderly, poor and disabled.
It is a position that appears to run counter with her efforts to safeguard the
safety nets.
And as Gov. Howard B. Dean's' point person on
such matters, Kitchel also finds herself caught in the storm over whether it
should be the governor, or members of the Legislature, who have the power to
make such cuts.
After one recent contentious session with the
Administrative Rules Committee, in which she presented a plan to cut welfare
benefits by 6 percent, the usually demure Kitchel appeared shaken.
"These are tough choices. These are
tough times," she said, seemingly understating the challenge.
As Congress works through differences between
the Senate and House budget bills, one thing is clear: Vermont
will be stressed to meet the demands of its residents and of its own goals
under the emerging scenario.
Medicaid, welfare and heating assistance
account for more than 80 percent of the Department of Social Welfare's annual
budget, which was $354 million in 1994.
But as Congress moves to cap growth based on
those 1994 levels, Vermont's historic welfare reform effort, which has dominated
Kitchel's three-year tenure as commissioner, is now under financial constraints
that no one envisioned when it passed the Legislature two years ago.
The state's continuing effort to expand
Medicaid coverage to low-income Vermonters is also threatened. And the
U.S. House has all but eliminated the low-income heating assistance program (LIHEAT)
from its version of the budget. Kitchel and others can only hope that some
portion of last year's $9 million assistance level will be maintained.
What little money the feds did apply toward a
cost-of-living increase for benefits for the aged, blind and disabled probably,
won't be seen by recipients, as the Dean administration moves to use that money
— $1.8 million a year — to a help' offset a $40 million state deficit.
From Kitchel's viewpoint, it is the most
difficult time facing the social welfare agency in the nearly three decade's she
has been involved.
"It seems like every part of the system
is being redefined," she in says. "We've got 60 years of social policy
being rewritten. I think this is a time of unprecedented change about the role
of government, and in a very compressed time period."
She compares her role to that of Job, whose
strengths and convictions are continuously tested in the Old Testament of the
Bible.
"I ask myself, 'Why on my watch?'"
says Kitchel.
As
Vermont
has concentrated its social policy efforts on child protection, Kitchel says
she fears that such efforts will be undermined by the changes being handed down
by
Washington
.
As she sees it, child welfare is a subject
that has been cast aside in ca the hurry towards "reform."
"The thing that has struck me at the
national level has been, really, the absence of that dimension, that we're
dealing with children here," says Kitchel, noting that the contentious
welfare reform debate in he
Vermont
revolved around outcomes for children.
Even some of Kitchel's staunchest opponents on
issues such as welfare reform credit her commitment to the job and to the nearly
50,000 families served through the department's various programs.
"I know that she feels very strongly
about adequate supports to families with children," said Alan Hark, who
recently resigned his post as director of the Vermont Low Income Advocacy
Council.
Hark says he believes Kitchel finds it
difficult to promote some of the plans that she is forced to bring to the table,
such as reductions in welfare benefits.
"I think that would have to be very
difficult for her. And balancing the other program needs is an act that I'm sure
she loses sleep over," he says. "In recent years, emotionally,
it has been very difficult for her to reconcile some of the issues she has had
to deal with with her own visions."
Hark has often been a leading critic of
Kitchel's department in State House committee rooms, but in the cafeteria,
Kitchel was never shy about approaching Hark's table to negotiate tough issues.
“She is most willing to compromise when she
needs to," says Hark. "She isn't one of those 'My way or
nothing' type people."
Hark also credits Kitchel for keeping a
watchful eye on "community outcomes," which he attributes to her
Danville
experience.
"She is a native within that native
tradition," says Hark, "someone who has remained committed."
One week ago, Sen. Cheryl Rivers, D-Windsor,
grilled Kitchel on the Dean administration's plan to cut the welfare benefits.
Rivers; who like Hark was once an advocate for
Vermont
's low-income residents, leveled stinging charges against the administration,
claiming the governor's cuts amounted to "a line-item veto" of the
1996 budget.
Kitchel took the repeated hits in her usual
calm demeanor.
"I do appreciate the fact that there is a
difference of opinion," she said, her style appearing in sharp contrast to
Rivers' fury.
Later, Rivers said she agreed with the premise
that Kitchel doesn't support making such cuts, but she questions whether Kitchel
is forceful enough in protesting such actions within the administration.
That aside, Rivers — long a vocal critic of
the governor — says her anger isn't directed at Kitchel.
"To her credit we have had a very
amicable relationship and open dialogue," says Rivers. "She
doesn't take it personally when I'm making a point in disagreement. That's
an unusual ability in that respect."
Rivers says she even struggles to ensure that
her comments are not taken as personal attacks, adding, "I sometimes go
home and evaluate whether I was successful or not at doing it."
For her part, Kitchel says she recognizes that
such attacks are not personal, and it is that realization, she says, that makes
difficult times easier.
Kitchel's mother, Catherine Beattie, says it
was a natural progression for her daughter to immerse herself in the field of
social work.
"It's been her life. That's what
she wanted to do," says Catherine Beattie, who served a term in the
Legislature in the 1960s and whose sister also found a career in the field.
"Janie has been very lucky with her
work," she adds. "It's work that she really likes."
Kitchel, whose real name is Martha but who is
still called "Janie" by her mother, never strayed far from the family
farm. With the exception of a stint at a
Pennsylvania
college, she is a lifelong
Danville
resident, commuting more than an hour each way to work from the farmhouse she
shares with her husband and 12-year-old son.
It is only about a mile from the family farm
where Kitchel's parents still live, and where the red flag was put out for the
neighbors 40 years ago.
Catherine Beattie seems to downplay the role
that the family farm has played as community provider over the years. But it is
a tradition of housing and feeding needy neighbors that dated back to her
father's time, she explains.
“It’s just a place where people would
come," she says of the home that has been in her family for more than 100
years.
The neighbors who came down the hill for food
have since died, but they eventually left money — about $100,000 from value of
their property — to the town's ambulance squad and to the town itself.
They always remembered their neighbors, too,
according to Catherine Beattie.
—Source: The Times Argus.
Wednesday,
November 1, 1995
. Vol. 100 No. 195. Pages 1 & 8.
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