DATE: Monday, September 29, 1997            TAG: 9709290061

SECTION: FRONT                   PAGE: A1   EDITION: FINAL 

SERIES: From Welfare to Work

        The New Social Contract

SOURCE: BY MIKE KNEPLER, STAFF WRITER 

                                            LENGTH:  317 lines

WELFARE REFORMS LIKELY WILL PUT SOCIETY'S FRAMEWORK TO THE TEST

Harolyn Rodgers peeks backward over her shoulder as she moves forward to Wednesday - the day that Virginia's version of welfare reform takes hold in Hampton Roads.

Rodgers, 43, of Norfolk glances back at scattered weeks of job-readiness training - punctuality, grooming, resume writing and the art of doing well in job interviews - to remind herself of lessons in self-confidence.

Yet, she also recalls how her hopes soared - and then slumped - each time she tested the lessons on local businesses, only to be told they no longer had job openings or had selected someone else.

``It's a hard pill to swallow,'' said Rodgers, a former short-order cook and ex-school bus driver. But she added: ``It can't rain all the time.''

Rodgers won't be sheltered much longer. On Wednesday, the law will require able-bodied welfare recipients to land jobs within 90 days or be assigned to community service - or lose assistance.

It's one of several new provisions in Virginia - changes that turn welfare from an entitlement for the poor to a social contract. It means a work-first approach, sticks to prod recipients toward carrots.

Recipients must sign personal responsibility agreements for finding work.

Advocates talk of a framework that could touch the affairs of many citizens, businesses, institutions and religious groups. They see welfare as part of a new social contract between people and their governments and among citizens themselves.

``Ten years from now when we look back, most will agree it will be one of the most profound cultural changes that we've seen in our lifetime,'' said Del. Robert McDonnell, R-Virginia Beach, who was Gov. George F. Allen's point man in winning General Assembly approval.

The changes, said McDonnell, will say much about how ``we, as a society, collectively deal with those that are on the margins or are the least fortunate.''

Rodgers went on welfare in 1985 after leaving work to care for a dying sister and then raise her late sister's son.

She's had part-time and temporary jobs but wants full-time employment and benefits. She's taken courses at Tidewater Community College in hopes of finding work, perhaps as a computer-data clerk, records manager or receptionist.

Rodgers, though, has to take a break in her job search. On Friday, she had surgery that is forcing her to bed rest for about two weeks.

But Virginia's welfare reform is not taking any breather.

The state calls its new approach VIEW, or Virginia Initiative for Employment not Welfare.

What will these changes mean, not only to people on welfare but to our community?

Since spring, McDonnell and other leaders have outlined a Hampton Roads scenario for responding to welfare reform.

``The only way, really, to make it work is that you need everybody who can possibly have a role in successfully implementing welfare reform,'' McDonnell said at one meeting. ``Get them to the table, talk about things that need to be done, talk about the challenges that are facing us. . . . People from the business community, church community, legislators, City Council people, volunteer groups, child-care providers, transportation providers.''

The notion of new relationships is reflected in the law.

Scott Oostdyk, Virginia's deputy secretary of health and human resources, describes the carrot-and-stick combination as ``leveraged reform.''

Starting Wednesday, clients can receive welfare checks for up to two consecutive years at any one time, but not more than five years total. After getting a job, they may continue to get one year of transitional benefits for child care, transportation and health care. There were no time limits under the old welfare program.

Working welfare recipients will keep their total assistance checks, plus any job salary up to the federal poverty level.

Previously, a three-person family would keep no more than $596 a month from salary and welfare.

Oostdyk understands why many recipients stay on welfare or return after trying to work.

``I could better influence my child's future by staying home and (influencing) them full time,'' said Oostdyk, who mentored two welfare recipients in Richmond.

Tawanda White agrees. The 24-year-old certified nurse's aide is a single mother of two. She hopes to be a nurse after her expected graduation at Norfolk State University in 1999.

Seeing welfare as a series of trade-offs, though, is nothing new to some recipients, such as single mothers who often face stark choices about the competing responsibilities of parenthood:

Is it best for a single mother - especially in a high-crime neighborhood - to stay home to raise and protect her children?

Or is it best to find a job, partly to teach children to value the work ethic, even when her unsupervised children may be at risk of getting into trouble?

There's debate even among those who have gone from welfare to work.

Some lose control of their children, especially those in their early teens. For some families, the problem gets worse when mothers find jobs on late shifts or whose work schedule varies each week.

Other families find children more respectful and helpful.

``That's a lot of pressure on a person,'' Rodgers said.

With hindsight, Rodgers concedes that it may have been better to go to work after guiding her nephew through his earliest years. ``I became complacent, to some extent,'' she said. ``That's wisdom that came with age.''

Virginia's new welfare-to-work program also may change how large sectors of the community - business and religious, in particular - deal with the reforms.

``Without the participation of the business community actively engaged in trying to make this welfare-to-work program successfully implemented . . . we're going to be a failure, it's just simply not going to work,'' McDonnell said.

To respond to business concerns that welfare recipients may not have the habits, skills or temperament for the workplace, Allen came to Hampton Roads on Friday to announce the formation of the Governor's Business Ambassadors for Welfare Reform. The group will educate employers, help track job growth, advise the governor and promote hiring from welfare rolls.

Oostdyk, meanwhile, urges business leaders to link welfare reform with economic development.

The United Way of South Hampton Roads wants agencies to think harder about pooling resources for welfare clients.

Religious groups also are pondering their responses.

Many congregations and religious charities already provide hands-on help to the poor with soup kitchens, food and clothing closets, transportation and support groups. Others have helped with cash donations.

Virginia Beach Social Services has collaborated with the religious community through its Interfaith Advisory Board, which has helped recruit and train 35 mentors for a proposed Neighbor to Neighbor program, said Ofelia Wattley, coordinator.

But Wattley worries that government may be over-relying on churches.

``This also becomes a sort of litmus test for all of us,'' she said. ``Do we really want the betterment of all of society or do we just not want to subsidize welfare anymore?''

The ability of a congregation to help can depend on the economy. A business downturn can be a double whammy, Wattley said, because people laid off from work not only need assistance but also cannot donate much money to help others.

And many congregations, especially in poor neighborhoods, must worry about bills. ``Some churches are wealthy,'' Wattley said. ``Others live from Sunday-to-Sunday collection.''

Several Norfolk neighborhoods, churches and business associations work with police to link welfare reform with community policing. The effort is part of the city's Police Assisted Community Enforcement.

Lt. Betty Davis said Norfolk's Police Department worries that jobless people may turn to crime. ``I wouldn't use the word `fearful,' '' she said. ``But if nothing is addressed, in my opinion, there will be more problems, whether they are criminal, family needs or social needs.''

Many questions remain.

What happens after the first two years to welfare recipients who have not found jobs or who work in low-paying jobs with little chance of improving their wages?

Some, such as Tawanda White, stay focused on long-term goals. ``I'm a certified nurse's assistant, but I can't stop there,'' she said.

Many other welfare recipients quit training with the first job instead of building skills toward self-sufficiency. Social workers say they can't blame clients who make such decisions, especially when bills are mounting.

Oostdyk said he hopes employers help. ``Take people off of welfare and then let's figure out what it's going to take to keep them there.''

He also anticipates a continued role for government. ``I think there will be a lot of good debates coming up about what it will take to sustain people in the work force,'' he said.

Yet government also will continue to look toward communities to answer a similar question: ``What do we need to do as a society?''

Rodgers worried as she prepared to face surgery last Friday. But she also was brightened by the buzz of ideas and scurry of activity.

``After you knock on so many doors and they give you an attitude about being on welfare, it's good to see that changing,'' she said. ``I think the community is coming together.

``I mean, it's best for everyone to realize they really mean business this time.'' *************** ************** Harolyn Rodgers peeks backward over her shoulder as she moves forward to Wednesday - the day that Virginia's version of welfare reform takes hold in Hampton Roads.

Rodgers, 43, of Norfolk glances back at scattered weeks of job-readiness training - punctuality, grooming, resume writing and the art of doing well in job interviews - to remind herself of lessons in self-confidence.

Yet, she also recalls how her hopes soared - and then slumped - each time she tested the lessons on local businesses, only to be told they no longer had job openings or had selected someone else.

``It's a hard pill to swallow,'' said Rodgers, a former short-order cook and ex-school bus driver. But she added: ``It can't rain all the time.''

Rodgers won't be sheltered much longer. On Wednesday, the law will require able-bodied welfare recipients to land jobs within 90 days or be assigned to community service - or lose assistance.

It's one of several new provisions in Virginia - changes that turn welfare from an entitlement for the poor to a social contract. It means a work-first approach, sticks to prod recipients toward carrots.

Recipients must sign personal responsibility agreements for finding work.

Advocates talk of a framework that could touch the affairs of many citizens, businesses, institutions and religious groups. They see welfare as part of a new social contract between people and their governments and among citizens themselves.

``Ten years from now when we look back, most will agree it will be one of the most profound cultural changes that we've seen in our lifetime,'' said Del. Robert McDonnell, R-Virginia Beach, who was Gov. George F. Allen's point man in winning General Assembly approval.

The changes, said McDonnell, will say much about how ``we, as a society, collectively deal with those that are on the margins or are the least fortunate.''

Rodgers went on welfare in 1985 after leaving work to care for a dying sister and then raise her

late sister's son.

She's had part-time and temporary jobs but wants full-time employment and benefits. She's taken courses at Tidewater Community College in hopes of finding work, perhaps as a computer-data clerk, records manager or receptionist.

Rodgers, though, has to take a break in her job search. On Friday, she had surgery that is forcing her to bed rest for about two weeks.

But Virginia's welfare reform is not taking any breather.

The state calls its new approach VIEW, or Virginia Initiative for Employment not Welfare.

What will these changes mean, not only to people on welfare but to our community?

Since spring, McDonnell and other leaders have outlined a Hampton Roads scenario for responding to welfare reform.

``The only way, really, to make it work is that you need everybody who can possibly have a role in successfully implementing welfare reform,'' McDonnell said at one meeting. ``Get them to the table, talk about things that need to be done, talk about the challenges that are facing us. . . . People from the business community, church community, legislators, City Council people, volunteer groups, child-care providers, transportation providers.''

The notion of new relationships is reflected in the law.

Scott Oostdyk, Virginia's deputy secretary of health and human resources, describes the carrot-and-stick combination as ``leveraged reform.''

Starting Wednesday, clients can receive welfare checks for up to two consecutive years at any one time, but not more than five years total. After getting a job, they may continue to get one year of transitional benefits for child care, transportation and health care. There were no time limits under the old welfare program.

Working welfare recipients will keep their total assistance checks, plus any job salary up to the federal poverty level.

Previously, a three-person family would keep no more than $596 a month from salary and welfare.

Oostdyk understands why many recipients stay on welfare or return after trying to work.

``I could better influence my child's future by staying home and (influencing) them full time,'' said Oostdyk, who mentored two welfare recipients in Richmond.

Tawanda White agrees. The 24-year-old certified nurse's aide is a single mother of two. She hopes to be a nurse after her expected graduation at Norfolk State University in 1999.

Seeing welfare as a series of trade-offs, though, is nothing new to some recipients, such as single mothers who often face stark choices about the competing responsibilities of parenthood:

Is it best for a single mother - especially in a high-crime neighborhood - to stay home to raise and protect her children?

Or is it best to find a job, partly to teach children to value the work ethic, even when her unsupervised children may be at risk of getting into trouble?

There's debate even among those who have gone from welfare to work.

Some lose control of their children, especially those in their early teens. For some families, the problem gets worse when mothers find jobs on late shifts or whose work schedule varies each week.

Other families find children more respectful and helpful.

``That's a lot of pressure on a person,'' Rodgers said.

With hindsight, Rodgers concedes that it may have been better to go to work after guiding her nephew through his earliest years. ``I became complacent, to some extent,'' she said. ``That's wisdom that came with age.''

Virginia's new welfare-to-work program also may change how large sectors of the community - business and religious, in particular - deal with the reforms.

``Without the participation of the business community actively engaged in trying to make this welfare-to-work program successfully implemented . . . we're going to be a failure, it's just simply not going to work,'' McDonnell said.

To respond to business concerns that welfare recipients may not have the habits, skills or temperament for the workplace, Allen came to Hampton Roads on Friday to announce the formation of the Governor's Business Ambassadors for Welfare Reform. The group will educate employers, help track job growth, advise the governor and promote hiring from welfare rolls.

Oostdyk, meanwhile, urges business leaders to link welfare reform with economic development.

The United Way of South Hampton Roads wants agencies to think harder about pooling resources for welfare clients.

Religious groups also are pondering their responses.

Many congregations and religious charities already provide hands-on help to the poor with soup kitchens, food and clothing closets, transportation and support groups. Others have helped with cash donations.

Virginia Beach Social Services has collaborated with the religious community through its Interfaith Advisory Board, which has helped recruit and train 35 mentors for a proposed Neighbor to Neighbor program, said Ofelia Wattley, coordinator.

But Wattley worries that government may be over-relying on churches.

``This also becomes a sort of litmus test for all of us,'' she said. ``Do we really want the betterment of all of society or do we just not want to subsidize welfare anymore?''

The ability of a congregation to help can depend on the economy. A business downturn can be a double whammy, Wattley said, because people laid off from work not only need assistance but also cannot donate much money to help others.

And many congregations, especially in poor neighborhoods, must worry about bills. ``Some churches are wealthy,'' Wattley said. ``Others live from Sunday-to-Sunday collection.''

Several Norfolk neighborhoods, churches and business associations work with police to link welfare reform with community policing. The effort is part of the city's Police Assisted Community Enforcement.

Lt. Betty Davis said Norfolk's Police Department worries that jobless people may turn to crime. ``I wouldn't use the word `fearful,' '' she said. ``But if nothing is addressed, in my opinion, there will be more problems, whether they are criminal, family needs or social needs.''

Many questions remain.

What happens after the first two years to welfare recipients who have not found jobs or who work in low-paying jobs with little chance of improving their wages?

Some, such as Tawanda White, stay focused on long-term goals. ``I'm a certified nurse's assistant, but I can't stop there,'' she said.

Many other welfare recipients quit training with the first job instead of building skills toward self-sufficiency. Social workers say they can't blame clients who make such decisions, especially when bills are mounting.

Oostdyk said he hopes employers help. ``Take people off of welfare and then let's figure out what it's going to take to keep them there.''

He also anticipates a continued role for government. ``I think there will be a lot of good debates coming up about what it will take to sustain people in the work force,'' he said.

Yet government also will continue to look toward communities to answer a similar question: ``What do we need to do as a society?''

Rodgers worried as she prepared to face surgery last Friday. But she also was brightened by the buzz of ideas and scurry of activity.

``After you knock on so many doors and they give you an attitude about being on welfare, it's good to see that changing,'' she said. ``I think the community is coming together.

``I mean, it's best for everyone to realize they really mean business this time.''

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