P&P August 2016

looked like they were prepared to stay awhile. To the left was a desk that looked like it was meant to serve for reception with a very unhappy looking woman standing by the desk screeching names into a microphone, calling people to her counter. I approached the counter and the scary lady held up her hand and yelled at me, “Can’t you read?” while pointing at something behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a sign hanging on the wall that indicated I was to “wait behind the line to protect others’ privacy.” I looked down and noticed some worn masking tape on the old carpeting, roughly indicating a line. I stepped back to my proper station and was promptly summoned forward by the “receptionist.” I learned that day that I needed to fill out a paper application, drop it off or mail it in, and then wait for a letter telling me when I was to reappear for an interview. I was told that would probably take two weeks. When I asked about child care assistance specifically, I was told I would need to speak to the worker at my interview about what I might be eligible for going forward. I left with more questions than answers and, as my due date approached, along with fall finals week, it became increasingly harder for me to think about anything other than how I was going to pay for my son’s care when the winter quarter started in January. At my interview later that month I learned my baby and I were eligible for programs I never even considered, or heard of in some cases, like Food Stamps, Medicaid, and Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC). But what about child care assistance? My worker didn’t know. I asked if she could check with a supervisor as that was my primary need, although the other assistance would certainly help. She slumped her shoulders and said I should wait, and disappeared. She came back later with a social worker who explained the only way for me to get help with child care would be to apply to a program called JOBS (Job Opportunities and Basic Skills). I would need to go through a separate process, attend a required orientation with a different agency in a different

office across town, and that would take a full afternoon. Once I did that, I would meet with a case manager who could talk to me about help with support services like child care. I left the office with slumped shoulders— more time I would need to miss from work and still no decision about how to pay for care with my due date just a few weeks away… Babs Roberts Today, Alicia’s experience would have been very different. CSOs are clearly marked with bold green signage. And while lobbies are often still very full, each office has a “navi- gator” and electronic check-in system with clearly marked signage hanging from the ceiling and around the check-in area. The navigator would have been able to help her check in, triage her needs based on answers to some simple questions (i.e., I would like to apply for benefits). The navi- gator would have checked to see if an application was received and pending, and if not, directed Alicia to one of several computer kiosks where her application could be completed while she waited for an interview. That appli- cation would stream to an automated client eligibility system within minutes of submission and be available for the worker by the time the client was called. Even better, clients can opt to have an interactive interview where the application is populated while the client is interviewed, printed, and signed at the end of the interview. Over the last eight years, by rede- signing business processes, we’ve adapted our office and call center flows to create efficiencies for our staff and customers. For instance, live navigation and triage allow us to move away from a “first come, first serve” model toward an ability to quickly move customers through our system. This is accomplished first by eliminating appointments and moving from a caseload model to a task model. Same-day service is an expectation and “pending” is a rarity. Streamlined, yet appropriate, eligi- bility rules, coupled with interfacing online verification systems (depart- ment of licensing, child support systems, vital records, and wage data),

accessing services less stressful, less painful, and reduce the bandwidth tax on already overburdened low-income individuals and families. Alicia Koné The first day I visited a welfare office was a typical gray and rainy October day in Seattle. I passed the office the first time I drove by because the building looked nothing like I was expecting—a remodeled strip mall between a car dealership and a gentle- men’s club on an industrial highway. Despite my third-trimester waddle and obvious baby bump, I elbowed my way through the crowd. The automatic doors slid open to reveal what I later came to recognize as a very typical, busy lobby in a welfare office during that era. Directly in front of me was a row of cubicles with five or six pairs of people sitting on either side of the desk, almost indistinguishable in dress and manner, except one group nervously clutching stacks of paper, with another group staring at computer terminals and pounding on keyboards. Client interviews were being conducted just a few feet away from the 25–30 adults and children of all ages waiting in plastic chairs or sitting on the floor (one family even spread out a blanket and was eating a picnic lunch). People

Alicia Koné is the owner of Koné Consulting, LLC, a former Washington State SNAP director, and a former welfare recipient.

Babette (Babs) Roberts is the Community Services Division director at the Washington Department of Social and Health Services (DSHS).

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Policy&Practice August 2016