THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, July 21, 1994 TAG: 9407210768
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E01 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY CHARLISE LYLES, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 176 lines
GANGLY, BLOND and peachy-cheeked, he was often mistaken for one of the gang on the streets of 1950s New Haven. But when the gang talked nasty about ``negroes'' he didn't chuckle along. He'd take a swing. That let them know who he was.
George Musgrove was born a black man in white skin, and that gave him an insider's view of racism. He grew up despising prejudice and racial stereotypes just as today's hate groups despise diversity.
The director of Norfolk's Department of Human Services still abhors stereotyping. He blames it for the failures of welfare. And he sees it as the chief obstacle to the success of state welfare-reform laws that took effect this month. Those laws require job training, refuse to increase benefits to women who have additional babies, and cut off assistance after two years.
As head of the region's largest urban social services agency, Musgrove will lead the effort to turn all the babble about welfare-reform policy into programs that produce working women who walk away from welfare checks.
To prepare, he has had to stabilize an agency that four years ago ousted its 14-year director in a mutiny of discontent. Since he arrived in 1990, Musgrove has wrestled with downsizing and a major reorganization of 560 workers that continued to shake the $32.2 million agency.
Now, he's showcasing the agency as reform-ready for the city's 7,000 welfare recipients who will be phased into the state's work requirement by 1996. By next July, 3,000 will be affected.
``The system must change,'' Musgrove said, referring to welfare. ``It's destroying lives, based on the negative stereotype that people on welfare don't want to work or be married. They just want to be promiscuous and take the dough. The new system assumes people want to work.''
On a recent afternoon, Musgrove's sharp, bluish eyes cut across his sunny office overlooking Brambleton Avenue. Stark on the walls are moody masks, gleaming swords, ceremonial icons and other African sculpture and artifacts from his 100-plus-piece collection. ``Go Down Moses,'' a painting of slave women, stares boldly at him.
All of it seems to shout his blackness to the uninformed. There once was a time when he might have used the pieces for that purpose, he says, but no more.
``Because of stereotypes,'' he goes on, ``we've designed a punitive (welfare) system that guaranteed that our stereotypes would come true. It forces young couples to split from one another in order for the woman to keep receiving benefits. Yet we articulate the two-parent family as the cornerstone of society.''
He shakes his head.
At 49, he is still very close to Mom and Dad in New Haven, an African-American World War II veteran and a Briton.
``My parents and I talk about these things,'' said Musgrove, who lives in Norfolk with his wife, Barbara, and a 4-year-old adopted son, Craig. ``Dialogue is the only way.''
As part of his plan to make welfare reform work in Norfolk, he mandated talk within the agency about stereotyping, racism and other uncomfortable subjects.
``It's got to start with changing the attitudes of the workers. Black or white, they've got to be what I call `culturally competent' and not impose their cultural biases on clients or define them by their deficits,'' he said.
When Musgrove set up task forces to overhaul service delivery for welfare reform, he broached certain topics. No one said a word.
``It would blow my mind. We went around the table. You tell me your view on this issue. You have to talk,'' he said, laughing. Now, some workers look forward to brown-bag lunches that turn into open forums between management and staff. ``I think issues need to be talked out in public. There can't be any secrets.''
It's no secret that Musgrove's direct and open style has met resistance from workers and perhaps stymied his initial efforts to polish an agency long looked on as the Dickensian department for the down and out.
``The way he puts it on the table is so honest and upfront that it's sort of hard to take,'' said Beverly Brown, benefits program manager and head of the welfare reform task force. ``It can be abrasive, so that it takes some adjustment. But it makes you stop and look at yourself.''
Assistant City Manager George Crawley, who supervises Musgrove, said: ``It's true that his style has been difficult for some with whom he works. And, frankly, we've said to George, in some respects, that he needs to tone it down. He recognizes that it works well in some places with some people and in others it has a counter effect.''
Early on, there were lots of complaints. ``I hear some of it is still there,'' said Crawley.
Some surfaced recently over Musgrove's directness about his intention to hire a minority as assistant director of the Social Services Division.
``We have a very Anglo-Saxon department,'' he said. A panel, which included Musgrove, went through two rounds of applicants, deciding on a minority. But Crawley and City Manager Jim Oliver, who have final say, rejected that candidate.
Others say Musgrove has been misread: His high expectations have simply shocked a long-complacent agency.
``I think this is the first time they've tried to do anything for people here,'' said Noel Finney, a program administer with the agency for more than a decade. ``He's not about simply maintaining people on welfare. He's aggressive. He's tough, and some people aren't used to that.''
Musgrove, in his measured professorial tone, said: ``I guess I'm more confrontational in my approach to solving problems than I need to be.''
Part of that is Baltimore brassiness from his days as director of social services there. And part of it, he says, is the ``fever.''
``It's a fever to improve service, to make the system work, to change, to take risk'' he said. ``My impatience is when people have not caught that fever. Why are you working in this business? It's not just a job. It's a fever I feel people aren't catching fast enough. If you are catching it, this is a great place to work.''
That fever drives the Yale University graduate who earned a doctorate from the University of Massachusetts. Colleagues call him ``Dr. Musgrove.'' They describe the well-dressed, 6-foot-1 man as a thinker, social scientist, a bureaucrat who can sprint.
``He is an exceptionally intelligent person,'' said Norfolk Circuit Court Judge Charles E. Poston, a former juvenile court judge who has engaged in more than a few spirited debates with Musgrove on sociology. ``He does not procrastinate once he has analyzed and figured out what he needs to do. That's good, because social services is bound by so many regulations and paperwork. But he cuts red tape.''
Musgrove's passion hasn't waned despite painful passages.
While he was head of Baltimore's social service agency, a child died of abuse after social workers refused to remove her from home. ``Miesha Jenkins,'' he remembered her name.
But he defended the workers. A national accreditor placed the agency on probation. A new mayor asked Musgrove to resign. He refused and landed in the Transportation Department.
Before hiring Musgrove in Norfolk, Assistant City Manager Crawley went north to investigate.
``I talked to people on both sides of the equation and in the community,'' he said. ``It came down to sorting through all that and trying to keep our eye on what we were after.'' Musgrove's innovative self-management approach is part of what Norfolk was after.
His idea is that everyone, from line workers to supervisors, even the janitor, has got ideas that can help make welfare reform work. If you've got an idea, he wants to hear it. If you think his is bad, tell him.
``It's called empowerment,'' said Patricia Bryant, who has worked at Social Services since 1976. ``He's positioning this staff for welfare reform and numerous changes in the future by saying that you can grow and we can be better than we are.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff color photo by PETER D. SUNDBERG
``The system must change,'' says George Musgrove. ``It's destroying
lives, based on the negative stereotype that people on welfare don't
want to work or be married.''
WELFARE REFORMS:
Under George Musgrove's leadership, the Norfolk Department of Human
Services has:
Set up a welfare-reform task force that changed everything from
bureaucratic processes to removing a glass partition between workers
and welfare clients.
Replaced an old system in which some caseworkers primarily handed
out checks and food stamps. Now, one caseworker can handle benefits
as well as a job training plan.
``The idea is one-stop shopping, instead of having to go to two
different workers to get help,'' said Beverly Brown, benefits
program manager and head of the welfare reform task force.
Contracted the Baltimore-based Human Development Institute to
prepare women for work through self-esteem support, life and
parenting skills and entrepreneurial training. As director of social
services in Baltimore, Musgrove had worked with the company. He
encouraged it to submit a proposal when bidding opened. It was one
of about 14 companies to compete for the contract.
Won a change in state rules so if a child lives with both parents
who are unemployed, they can receive up to six months of Aid to
Dependent Children benefits and job-search assistance such as day
care and training. Historically, only women who live alone have been
eligible for ADC. ``This is intended as a carrot to keep families
together,'' said Noel Finney, program administrator.
KEYWORDS: PROFILE
by CNB