This story was originally produced by the Concord Monitor. NHPR is republishing it in partnership with the Granite State News Collaborative.
Moira O’Neill kept the same piece of paper in her pocket for four years.
When people would ask about the purpose of her job was, or accuse her being “out of her lane,” she had the statute of the Office of the Child Advocate at the ready. Questions about the first-of-its-kind independent oversight office for the state’s children were no surprise in its infancy.
“I read it every day. I read it to people every day because it’s an unusual office,” she said. “It’s not unexpected that people won’t understand, ‘What are you doing here? Why are you saying what you’re saying?’ But that’s what the law says.”
O’Neill served as the inaugural Child Advocate for New Hampshire and stepped aside after one four-year term in 2022, stating the success of the office should not be tied to one leader. Cassandra Sanchez was appointed by then-governor Chris Sununu as her successor.
Now, her foundational work may crumble at the hands of the legislature after House lawmakers eliminated the Office of the Child Advocate in their version of the state budget earlier this month. The Senate is still weighing whether or not to preserve the position.
O’Neill, who is a scholar on children’s ombudsman positions nationwide, thinks axing the office is a rash decision motivated by political ire. And it would also bring dire consequences if enacted.
“It’ll be bad. There will be bad things happening,” she said. “New Hampshire is just going to embarrass itself, aside from really harming kids.”
The impetus for the office stemmed from tragedy. Sadie Willott and Brielle Gage, two toddlers in New Hampshire, were killed by family members despite repeated warnings to the Division of Children, Youth and Families.
The office hadn’t existed for a month before O’Neill began investigating a repeat scenario.
Preston Edmunds, a 6-year-old boy from Derry, was killed by his father in a homicide-suicide. While there was no open case with DCYF at the time of the deaths, eight prior referrals had been made to the child protection agency in a two-year period.
In her case review O’Neill had a definitive conclusion: Edmunds’ family could have benefited from voluntary services, which legislators had recently cut.
In budget discussions shortly thereafter, Sununu included funding for these services – which would allow parents to engage with resources from the DCYF without having an open abuse or neglect case. Legislators dissented and once again looked to cut the program.
O’Neill was quick to call out this incongruity publicly in interviews.
“There’s a big picture here,” she said. “Social workers in the field can only do what they can do with the resources that they have.”
The purpose of having independent authority is to critique the state’s system of care for children – from legislative decisions to specific case reviews.
Yet, the nature of the position inherently puts office staff at odds with other state agencies. As the Child Advocate, O’Neill called out missteps in the work done by DCYF staff or budget requests that the Department of Health and Human Services asked for but lawmakers overlooked.
“The agencies depend upon the independent oversight to speak for what’s right, because it’s not political. It’s in children’s interest,” O’Neill said. “So when you can’t do it, someone else can do it for you. It’s very important.”
Lawmakers have alleged that as O’Neill’s successor, Sanchez has veered into political territory, with Rep. Dan McGuire, an Epsom Republican, stating that she has “interfered” with legislation in his pitch to eliminate the office.
Last April, Sanchez was one of several speakers at a press conference to oppose more than 30 bills that targeted LGBTQ youth, including a transgender sports bans and a parental bill of rights.
At the event, Sanchez warned of a “chilling effect” for children and later met with Sununu urging him to veto four bills, according to a recent annual report from her office.
“Frankly, she’s doing her job, which is to promote the best interests of children,” said O’Neill. “I understand why she’s doing that. I don’t understand why someone would eliminate an entire office because they disagree with her interpretation of her job.”
Sanchez defends the legislative work her office does as protecting “the best interest of children,” and the focus on LGBTQ youth is only a piece of policy changes she’s pushed for.
Last year, she also supported legislation that increased oversight on youth in residential facilities – with 350 children sent away on average, according to Monitor analysis – where there is little to no scrutiny from the state and documented cases of negligence.
During her time as the child advocate, O’Neill saw that LGBTQ youth were most likely to be sent to placements further afield after being thrown out of their family home, as well.
“Trans and LGBTQ kids are the most vulnerable at out-of-state placements,” she said. “The state had no place for them because there’s no facility that knows what to do with someone who has these gender differences. And so they were sending them very far away to terrible places.”
By 2026, the Department of Health and Human Services has said they would like to reduce its reliance on residential care for children. That goal will only be accomplished with continued supervision from a child advocate position, said O’Neill.
New Hampshire was the 13th state to establish a children’s ombudsman office. Today, there are 33 similar positions nationwide, with states like Vermont using the Granite State as a model. New Jersey has been the only state to eliminate their Office of the Child Advocate, with then-governor Chris Christie doing so with his first budget in 2010.
In a sense, O’Neill has watched this play out before. Budget cuts to children’s services often lead to tragic cases, public outcry and policy changes. That was the genesis of New Hampshire’s child advocate office. But she has yet to see another state walk back this work over policy preferences.
“New Hampshire may be the first that is embroiled in this political conflict that’s ignoring exactly what the office does,” she said.
In a presentation to state senators this week, Sanchez stuck to business as usual by asking the finance committee for two more positions and increased funding for day-to-day work, like visiting children in out-of-state facilities.
The conversation echoed the one she had with House lawmakers months prior, with no mention of legislative activity.
Gov. Kelly Ayotte has indicated that she’d like to keep Sanchez’s office. She included it in her budget proposal and has said in interviews that she’ll work with Senate leaders to restore funding.
But she’ll have to decide if the state will retain just the office or if it will keep Sanchez as well. Her appointment is set to expire in 2026, at which point Ayotte will have the chance to nominate someone new for the post, as she plans to do with Department of Education Commissioner Frank Edelblut.
House votes to eliminate the office have fallen largely along party lines, with Republicans favoring the cut. That differs from past bipartisan work to reform child welfare laws at the federal and state level, which has largely been enacted under Republican administrations, said O’Neill.
O’Neill hopes lawmakers will continue to follow a consistent value system of putting kids first and prioritizing keeping children in their homes and their communities. Today’s partisan climate may drive lawmakers to vote along party lines instead.
“New Hampshire has made great strides,” said O’Neill. “I believe every one of those legislators does care about children. I’m sure they do, but they may not see that these kinds of decisions are really not going to help children in the long run, and they’re not going to help the state.”
