The conversion of 
            foster-care kids into addled, drooling but easily managed zombies by 
            ordering up injudicious dollops of psychotropic drugs makes for a 
            shocking story.
            Except nobody was shocked.
            
Not in South Florida.
            
Hundreds of foster kids, taken away from their 
            families and placed in the state-run foster system, have been kept 
            in line by an apparent overuse of powerful drugs, some with daunting 
            side effects. The Herald's Carol Marbin Miller reported that kids 
            consigned to state care are being dosed with powerful 
            antidepressants, anti-psychotics and tranquilizers, some not 
            specifically approved for children.
            Child advocates charge that the unruly kids are drugged into a 
            dull and submissive state to make them easier to manage, not because 
            of mental illness. And that the drugs were administered despite some 
            startling side effects. 
            
One boy, reacting to a prescription of Risperdal (one of four 
            psychotropics in his drug regime) gained 30 pounds, developed 
            breasts and began lactating. Last year, Florida prescribed 
            antipsychotic drugs to 5,722 foster children under 10.
`SO 
            OVERWHELMING'
            
But the outrageous treatment of foster kids no longer outrages. 
            The outrageous has become the ordinary. Failures of the foster 
            system have become its most familiar characteristic. And stories 
            exploring those failures have become variations of an old theme. The 
            state's foster system has been sued or its failures cataloged by 
            national child advocates organizations, grand juries and the federal 
            government.
            
And nobody gets shocked anymore.
            
Kids on ``chemical restraints'' was a story I forced myself to 
            read, though my inclination, ``Oh no, another foster-care horror 
            story,'' was to retreat to the sports page, where news of failure 
            doesn't numb the soul. Maybe, for most of us, the problems seem too 
            overwhelming. ``It's overwhelming to us who are actively involved,'' 
            said Howard Talenfeld, who represents more than 1,000 Broward County 
            foster kids in a lawsuit against the state Department of Children 
            and Families.
            
``I think it's so overwhelming, whether it's the department, the 
            public, even the advocates, that we sometimes forget that these are 
            individual children here, who were all victimized before they came 
            into the system,'' said Andrea L. Moore, the child advocate and 
            lawyer who blew the whistle on the administration of powerful drugs 
            like Risperdal, used by a system ``so overwhelmed that it's forced 
            to [use] quick and easy solutions.''
            
CRYING OUT FOR HELP
            
Advocates like Jack Levine, president of the Center for Florida's 
            Children, rail that drugs are another cheapskate strategy for a 
            state that pays foster parents less to care for children ($11.74 a 
            day) than kennels receive for boarding dogs.
            
``You can confine a child emotionally by telling him he's 
            worthless or shackle him to a bed or put him in a jail, but there's 
            something very insidious about chemical shackles . . . 
            especially Risperdal, for any age child.'' He said it was worthy of 
            a third-world tyranny.
            
Andrea Moore would like a bit of outrage to inspire more 
            volunteers for the critically understaffed guardian ad litem program 
            to represent abused and neglected children or, at least, in a few 
            tutors for foster kids. ``Some of these kids don't own a book. They 
            have no one to read to them.''
            
But we're overwhelmed. We shake our heads, sadly, and shrug.