Not Child’s Pay

Last year was an exhausting one for Luanne J. Panacek. Panacek traveled to the state Capitol to advise Gov. Jeb Bush on community youth programs, helped his administration stage a juvenile-delinquency summit and cushioned the impact of a privatization initiative by showing his aides how to stretch Medicaid dollars for at-risk kids.

She joined a policy group devising a statewide agenda for families. Panacek helped bureaucrats allocate $1-million in child-welfare money so it wouldn't have to go back to Tallahassee unspent.

Panacek held a town meeting on girls in the juvenile justice system and published nationally on the topic. She attended conferences in Hawaii, North Carolina, Puerto Rico and Washington, D.C. (She had to drive back to Tampa from the nation's capital on Sept. 11.) In December, Panacek picked up the Child Welfare League of America's annual Women in Leadership Award at another conference on Sanibel Island.

Who is Dr. Luanne Panacek? The second coming of Dr. Benjamin Spock?

No, she is the executive director of the Children's Board of Hillsborough County. In 1988, Hillsborough voters raised their own property taxes and created the board to dole out the proceeds to children's service providers in the county. The children's board plans to spend nearly $25-million in 2002.

Panacek's desire to influence policy on a wide range of lofty fronts was heartily endorsed by her board of directors in November with a 20 percent pay hike. That followed 10 percent raises in each of the previous two years.

At $115,003, Panacek is among Florida's best-paid county children's service executives, trailing only her Palm Beach counterpart by $1,008. The comparable post in Pinellas County pays $95,485.

For all the state and national recognition, however, Panacek has accumulated a small chorus of decidedly local critics. That became apparent last fall when Panacek and the children's board solicited comments on how she was doing.

Some outside her agency might wonder if leadership confabs in Honolulu intrigue Panacek more than child neglect in Progress Village.

"Dr. Panacek is a warm and caring person," wrote an East Tampa dropout-prevention worker in evaluating the children's board executive director. But Panacek has too much faith in her staff. "A trusting management style invites misuse by staff members who are less concerned with public perception or with the satisfaction or dissatisfaction of any one agency or individual," wrote Althea England. "Should problems arise, the executive director is always the last to know."

During a Weekly Planet interview in January, Panacek acknowledged that she must tighten up on her managers. "I'm real proud of the work that gets done here. I'm also real clear about the improvements that need to be made," Panacek said. "Everybody internally will tell you that we need shoring up from a management perspective."

Indeed, a few of the brickbats came from her own shop. They were tossed reluctantly, not so much out of fear as sadness. Many of the board's 50 or so employees feel great affection for Panacek because they credit her with extracting the agency from mismanagement hell five years ago.

But recent reviews of Panacek hint that the agency has strayed from its original mission of simply evaluating those who serve troubled kids and ensuring scarce funds go to the wisest preventive approaches.

"Luanne is a community leader and wishes to focus on neighborhood services and regionalization," wrote a children's board staffer, who was allowed to vent anonymously as the board weighed Panacek's raise. "She is a good listener, but in too many instances she does "not walk the talk.' Or, changes her mind. Staff is tired of reorganizations. This has become a lab to test the most recent published ideas." In a county where those grappling with youth crime and delinquency perpetually scrape for money, it may surprise voters who birthed the children's board 14 years ago that their baby has grown into what critics contend is an impervious and somewhat out-of-touch think tank.

The 48-year-old Panacek devotes so much time and energy to children's services that her board directors and employees worry about her health. In a gesture of reassurance, Panacek noted in her annual accomplishments that she raised $7,500 for the American Stroke Association by training for and walking a half-marathon.

But concern lingers that the boss packs too much into her day, to the detriment of her well-being and that of the children's board.

"As seen by her overbooked schedule, Lu needs to delegate more," wrote Nancy Delance, a communications director for the board, in her Panacek evaluation. But Delance questioned if Panacek's aides are up to it.

Staff deficiencies notwithstanding, Panacek refuses to lighten her load, even with a family history of early deaths from heart disease and stroke. "I'm divorced because I'm a workaholic," she said. "I've tried real hard in the last couple of years not to feel guilty about that. It does not make me dysfunctional or sick because I love what I do and I really get a lot out of it. I think that is my reason for being here."

Delance, for one, hasn't seen Panacek's intensity rub off on co-workers. "The pace is always slower than seems necessary," Delance wrote of children's board office. Other staffers said Panacek is often absent from the office, making it harder for her to know when the wheels come off board-funded initiatives.

Calling that a big challenge, board Systems Integration Director Laurie Bettinghaus wrote that Panacek may be overextended and "not leaving enough time to balance external community responsibilities with those of staff supervision in a realistic way." Yet Panacek and her staff are also missing on the front lines, according to Chloe Coney, president of the nonprofit Corporation to Develop Communities of Tampa Inc.

Coney, whose nonprofit gets county money, said most of those running programs funded by the children's board do not know who works for Panacek.

"Luanne is a great leader with passion for children's service," said Coney, "but (she) need(s) to assign more staff to working directly with community groups to identify with the needs." That sort of feedback is inevitable, according to Panacek. "You can go a zillion places and people will say "we don't see the children's board,'" she said. "That's because they want us to be everywhere. They want us to attend every meeting, every planning session, every presentation, everything." Children's board directors, who are either public officials or gubernatorial appointees, hope to narrow their grant-making so agency staff can narrow their focus, said Panacek. "Being a taxing organization, there was reluctance to leave anybody out," she said.

The 10-member board underwent a wholesale turnover in 2001. Panacek assisted Gov. Bush in recruiting new directors. Even so, not all of the directors heaped praise on Panacek during her salary review.

"Would like to see more funds going into "services,'" wrote Bush appointee Deborah J. Tamargo in her evaluation of Panacek, and less into "planning, consultations, reports, conferences, etc."

In her self-evaluation, Panacek wrote that one of her 2001 goals "was to begin to move from local to state and national leadership positions." She said she accomplished that and gave herself the highest possible rating in 32 of 44 job-performance categories. But she conceded that the breadth of her policy interests "will continue to create tension and stress" among staffers who feel she is ""out there' too much and not available enough within the organization." Board attorney John W. Bakas Jr. said the board's leadership doesn't mind Panacek's broad reach. "What I heard is that the executive committee was very aware of the value of Dr. Panacek, her role as really a national leader in this area," Bakas told Tamargo and other members who don't sit on the board's executive committee. "When they look at her salary, with that sort of expanded scope, in comparison to what other county administrators receive, they thought it was appropriate."

Panacek is literally the public face of the children's board. Her smiling countenance graced its last two annual reports to county taxpayers. No photograph of a board director appeared in either report, despite politicos like former judge F. Dennis Alvarez serving on the panel at the time. The executive director sometimes isn't as eager to step out of the limelight into the line of fire.

In 2000, the children's board hired Temple Terrace consultant James R. Fisher Jr. to determine how the agency could expedite contracting and invoicing. "It was taking so long, like six months, for contracts to be developed," said Panacek. "It was ridiculous." However, Fisher didn't confine his attention to bookkeeping. When Fisher came back with a comprehensive report that outraged staffers, Panacek blamed Assistant Executive Director E. Buddy Davis.

"Buddy had to take responsibility for that. It was his project," said Panacek. "Somewhere along the line it got off track."

Davis told the Planet that, as the board's chief operating officer, he was "technically" responsible for hiring and supervising Fisher.

Although disjointed and unconventional in presentation, the Fisher report was refreshingly blunt for a government document in enumerating the shortcomings of the children's board.

According to Fisher, the agency couldn't finish a 1998 annual report until February 2000 and the eight-page document produced for taxpayer consumption was so late that it was misleadingly labeled a 1999 report. That succinctly bespoke a major liability of the Children's Board of Hillsborough County. "Meeting due dates is a chronic problem endemic to CBHC, as the annual report fiasco so painfully illustrates," Fisher wrote in a letter to board lawyer Bakas. After weeks of studying the organization, Fisher came away with other general impressions:

… "One of the great strengths is that the staff believes in the value of what they do — meeting the needs of families and children … (but) … people need a fire put under them rather than in them." … "CBHC is too self-involved. CBHC worries too much about itself, and is too focused on what has meaning and relevance to it, rather than to its customers … CBHC is committed more to activity than to results, more to comfort than contribution, more to a status quo than to change." … "Clearly, most CBHC people are (a) preparing for meetings, (b) going to meetings, or (c) organizing meetings as a result of meetings attended. It takes up to 50-75 percent of people's time. … CBHC appears long on meetings and short on doing." … "Everyone seems genuinely desirous to create a more effective CBHC. Having said that, I detect a reluctance in the CBHC staff to change. … In many ways CBHC is like a job made in heaven, from the ambience of the workplace to the comfort of the job. Why should they change, indeed!"

Panacek and her aides blasted Fisher and his report. "A loose string of "psycho-babble' with very little substance or rationale attached to it" was one appraisal.

"It is riddled with subjective opinion, inaccuracies and a negative preachiness that I believe is destructive and inappropriate for a report of this type that will receive wide public distribution," program director Amy Petrila wrote to Panacek.

Panacek accused Fisher of secretly taping interviews with staffers and, after promising to keep their remarks confidential, including selected verbatim excerpts in his report without identifying the speaker. "I just couldn't believe it," said Panacek. "How could this guy be such a high-profile national consultant and make a humongous process error?"

Anonymity was lost, Panacek said. "People read it and knew exactly who said what about what and it freaked them out, big time," she said. "They really felt violated."

In a recent interview, Fisher said he did no taping — secret or otherwise — at the children's board after Panacek denied him permission at the beginning of his assignment.

Davis, contradicting his boss, sided with Fisher in the dispute. "I'm sure he didn't tape anything," Davis told the Planet.

Fisher said he was able to quote Panacek employees so accurately because he takes detailed interview notes.

While calling Panacek "industrious" and "competent," Fisher said she took his findings as a personal insult. Panacek marshaled her allies inside and outside the agency to discredit his work. "Luanne is a political animal," said Fisher. "She's a wheeler-dealer."

Not all of the reaction to the Fisher report was negative.

"Our organization is very close to what he described," then-board director Francis M. Williams told Panacek in an e-mail message. "He clearly sees our problems, and can help us, if we have the courage … and follow his formula and time frame for change." The president of Kimmins Corp., Williams urged Panacek not to "bury" the Fisher report. But that is just what happened. For his trouble, Fisher did not receive a final $3,750 payment on his $16,575 amended contract. The board claimed that Fisher had breached the pact.

Williams, who has since left the children's board, doubts that Fisher's findings have been addressed. Williams described himself as "distraught" at how lethargically the board gets tax money out to programs that improve the lives of children.

The board's latest audit shows a Sept. 30, 2000, fund balance of $11.5-million, $4.3-million less than the agency's total expenditures for the prior 12 months.

"We've got millions in the bank and we've got kids starving on the streets," said Williams. "It drove me crazy."

Yet Williams praised Panacek and said her latest raise was long overdue.

Deborah Tamargo wasn't at all certain of that.

Tamargo was the lone children's board director to vote against the pay raise at a Nov. 8 public meeting. Besides the scattered knocks on Panacek, Tamargo said of the raise: "I just find the timeliness of this very inappropriate."

A former state legislator and social worker, Tamargo said many agencies funded by the children's board must cut their budgets, with tax collections down. In contrast, the board's primary revenue source — the voter-approved 50-cent levy on every $1,000 of taxable Hillsborough property value — remains fairly steady through good times and bad. Tamargo, referring to Panacek's raise, said: "The number of children who can be served with that $25,000 increase, that is not a small amount of money." Carolyn W. Bricklemyer, a school board member who also chairs the children's board, corrected Tamargo. The Panacek raise was only $20,000.

Bricklemyer grew peeved as Tamargo mentioned that Gov. Bush has frozen the salaries of his employees making $90,000 or more.

Looking out into the meeting room audience, Tamargo said she could see executive directors of agencies funded by the children's board. "They're at $30,000 or $32,000," Tamargo said. "And they provide direct services to neglected and abused children. "

Tamargo also said at the meeting that she contacted some of the agency directors after learning that Bricklemyer and the executive committee would recommend Panacek's new compensation package at the Nov. 8 meeting. "I called a couple of groups last night and asked them how they felt," said Tamargo. "And you were shocked. I asked you if you would express an opinion today and you told me you were scared."

That was too much for Bricklemyer. "I will take a little bit of criticism, but not a lot," she said. "I have absolutely no apology to make to organizations that we help fund. They have absolutely no voice in what she gets paid. That is this board's decision."

Bricklemyer added: "Luanne has been cheated in her raise every year, every year that I've had an opportunity to evaluate her."

Cheated? Panacek's annual pay has risen from $78,000 in 1998 to $86,014 in 1999 to $95,210 in 2000 to the $115,003 approved Nov. 8, retroactive to last August. Her annual pay has gone up $37,003 since 1998. The average Hillsborough resident's annual pay for 2000 was only $31,377.

Bricklemyer recalled the mess that Panacek inherited in 1997, when the board declined to renew the contract of former executive director Gerry Malouin. "Having helped get rid of the last executive director, and I have no qualms about saying that," said Bricklemyer, "Luanne has done a remarkable job rebuilding trust in this community."

But Tamargo wouldn't let up. A pay-comparison list handed to the board of directors showed mostly other government administrators, some with more varied duties than Panacek. "This is part of the story," said Tamargo. "It is not all of the story." The only local nonprofit executive position that was included pays $145,000 a year.

Bricklemyer didn't appreciate the insinuation. "I absolutely take offense to that," Bricklemyer said. "You're making a comment, Deborah, that makes it look like someone monkeyed with and chose who they wanted to put on the list. That is inappropriate. That was not done that way."

When Tamargo attempted a retort, the board chairwoman cut her off. "We're voting," Bricklemyer announced. "All in favor?" Panacek staffers in the meeting room broke into applause after the 6-to-1 vote was announced. Panacek's contract was also extended through 2005 and she will be allowed to cash out more unused leave when she departs her job. Even Lynn Richard Jr., regional administrator for the state Department of Children & Families, approved Panacek's deal as a children's board director. Richard, who is currently paid $100,500 a year to oversee the department's operations in six Tampa Bay area counties, said he wouldn't get a pay increase for two years due to state budget woes. The only other dissent came when Republican activist Jacqueline Knight rose at the end of the meeting, as the board heard public comment.

"I think that it takes a lot of audacity to say to anybody: "It's none of your business what we pay people,'" Knight told the children's board. "I just received my tax bill in the mail. On that, you're listed. So I think it is my business what you pay people."

Bricklemyer had left the meeting by then.

Panacek predicted that her salary jump would engender recrimination. "I think I'm fairly in tune with the political climate of the community," she said. But she won't apologize for taking the money. "I believe I deserve it," said Panacek. "I work hard." Few doubt Panacek's tireless devotion to keeping kids out of trouble. Her critics sound more concerned with exactly where she applies that enthusiasm.

Panacek came to the children's board after 17 years at the University of South Florida's mental health institute. She is more academic than social worker. "That criticism would probably be present regardless of the fact that I came from the university," said Panacek. "But I think that that's part of it."

Nevertheless, Panacek said she is a firm believer in applied research. Unlike county commission-funded "community needs assessments," which collect dust once they hit print, the children's board funds pilot projects that Panacek foresees achieving tangible benefits someday.

Trying to demonstrate more insight into the community and less isolation from it, the agency has targeted distressed neighborhoods throughout the county. This year, for example, the board is spending $138,581 so Palm River residents can identify their family problems and where to get help with them.

"You have to really look at how you can make change through policy," said Panacek, "through advocacy, through planning, through evaluation. That is a package."

Panacek and her supporters say she is nudging the children's board toward solutions that traditional social-service bureaucracies shun, afraid of the unknown. "Personally, I don't want to be here unless we operate in innovative ways," she said. "I don't want to be here unless we're really doing cutting-edge work."

Contact Staff Writer Francis X. Gilpin at 813-248-8888, ext. 130, or frangilpin@ weeklyplanet.com.

This article appears in Feb 6-12, 2002.