-- 
                  ERLINE KIDD doesn't want her 8-year-old 
                  daughter to end up like a boy named Cecil Reed - a corpse at 
                  the city morgue. 
                  Kidd fears for the life of her daughter Shaevonnah - "Shae" 
                  - because she's in the custody of the city's Administration 
                  for Children's Services - just like Cecil was. 
                  
And just like Cecil, ACS is allowing doctors to give Shae a 
                  cocktail of psychiatric medications that Kidd feels is harming 
                  her baby. 
                  
Kidd's objections are being ignored, just like those of 
                  Cecil's father, who stopped complaining April 7, 2000, when 
                  his 16-year-old son suffered a heart attack triggered by a 
                  combination of four drugs, and died. 
                  
"I was begging them to stop," said Cecil Reed Jr., a city 
                  worker who lives in The Bronx. 
                  
"Jesus," said Dr. Peter Breggin, an author and critic of 
                  psychiatric treatment of children. "They were treating him 
                  like you would treat a raving psychotic." 
                  
ACS says it doesn't know how many of its 31,000 children 
                  are on psychiatric medication, but advocacy groups say 
                  complaints from parents arrive at their offices on a "regular 
                  basis." 
                  
A state audit of 401 randomly selected kids last year found 
                  that more than half were being treated for mental problems - 
                  and that most likely means medication. 
                  
Some advocates charge the foster-care agencies contracted 
                  to care for nearly 90 percent of ACS's children use medication 
                  to "control" the emotionally troubled kids. 
                  
Parents like those of Tariq Mohammad, 16, face 
                  medical-neglect charges in Family Court if they object too 
                  vigorously. 
                  
Tariq was on medication for schizophrenia, an illness he 
                  says he never had, and its side effects made him violently 
                  ill. The family sued ACS in civil court and won after a 
                  court-appointed psychiatrist determined Tariq didn't need any 
                  medication. 
                  
"I am outraged, not just for me, but for many kids that are 
                  being medicated," Tariq said. "It really screwed me up. I 
                  guess they do it because they don't want to deal with us." 
                  
Tariq, who lived in the foster system since he was 11, says 
                  his pleas for an alternative treatment were summarily ignored. 
                  
The ACS says parents are entitled to get a second medical 
                  opinion or hire a lawyer to fight the case in court. 
                  
The mad rush to medicate, a nationwide phenomenon, is 
                  especially delicate with foster kids. The ACS relies on the 
                  judgment of doctors subcontracted by its 60 foster agencies to 
                  evaluate and treat children, agency spokeswoman Jennifer Faulk 
                  said. 
                  
The ACS is supposed to monitor the treatment, but 
                  overworked caseworkers can't - or don't - micromanage each 
                  kid, so they defer to doctors. 
                  
Hank Orenstein, the director of the advocacy agency C-Plan, 
                  said the ACS exhibits a "naivete" in mental-health services. 
                  
"It's a relief to have other professions make the decision 
                  but as you can see some children are not always best served 
                  with medication," said Orenstein, whose group is part of 
                  Public Advocate Mark Green's office. 
                  
Parents end up becoming helpless watchdogs handcuffed by 
                  bureaucracy and poverty. 
                  
"I hated it," said Cecil Reed's father, a Baptist church 
                  deacon, describing the slow medication death of his son at the 
                  Bronx Children's Psychiatric Center. 
                  
Reed began noticing a problem with Cecil's treatment three 
                  years before his son died. Reed, who was threatened with 
                  medical-neglect charges, said Cecil was "sleepwalking" after 
                  the hospital began serving the boy cocktails. 
                  
Doctors said Cecil had schizoaffective disorder and 
                  post-traumatic stress disorder but his father claims his son 
                  wasn't insane, just a strong-willed kid who like any youngster 
                  would lash out after being separated from family and friends. 
                  
"Daddy, I don't want to take medicine anymore . . . They 
                  are just using me as a guinea pig," Reed remembers his son 
                  saying. 
                  
When the usually cooperative Reed questioned the medication 
                  in late 1999, the hospital simply got consent from the ACS 
                  behind the father's back, he charged. Faulk didn't respond to 
                  the allegation. 
                  
He learned about the deadly cocktail the day after his son 
                  died. 
                  
The autopsy report notes Cecil's body contained 
                  "potentially toxic" levels of pindolol, a heart-damaging drug 
                  never tested or recommended for children. 
                  
Breggin said serving these cocktails to children is "so 
                  dangerous and experimental that it wouldn't be permitted under 
                  any legitimate rule of research." 
                  
The ACS, the state's Office of Children and Family Services 
                  and the state Office of Mental Health, which runs the Bronx 
                  facility where Cecil died, refused to comment because the 
                  family plans to sue. 
                  
Erline Kidd's face sunk when she was told about Cecil. Kidd 
                  charged she always learns about the drug cocktails her 
                  daughter gets after the fact. All contact with her daughter's 
                  doctor is arranged by the ACS. 
                  
Kidd, a reformed cocaine addict, is fighting two wars: to 
                  get her daughter back from the ACS, like she did with her two 
                  sons, ages 12 and 9, in January, and to stop the drugging of 
                  the girl. 
                  
Little Shae is on Seroquel and Thorazine for psychosis, and 
                  four other drugs. 
                  
"I just know it's too much - my daughter is like a zombie," 
                  the mother said. "One time I saw her and I wanted to grab her 
                  and run."