A deficit of decency
The painful state budget hammered out last week left Gary Blumenthal shaking his head.
The executive director of the Association of Developmental Disabilities Providers is a veteran of the State House budget wars, and he certainly knows the state is in a recession. But this budget, he said, will be a disaster for the disabled people he represents.
“Our folks are trying to make the best of a bad situation,’’ he said yesterday. “The Commonwealth is in fiscal decline and our guys are doing everything they can. In the long run, this will cause more problems for families.’’
This budget season was not supposed to be a bloodbath for the disabled.
There was hope, in large part because the state was due to receive a windfall in the form of increased Medicaid reimbursements from Washington.
In fact, last spring lawmakers enlisted advocates to help lobby for more healthcare money from Washington, and it is arriving. The state is now reimbursed for 60 percent of its Medicaid costs, up from 50 percent. That change in formula has brought $90 million in additional money to the state coffers so far.
But there are virtually no rules for what it is spent on, and the state has a lot of budget needs to address. So only a fraction of it is headed for healthcare, and almost none of it will go to the agencies that helped fight for it.
It has gone instead into the state’s general fund, to be spent on whatever.
“What has happened is that the state has been more than willing to take the enhanced Medicaid dollars to fill budget holes,’’ Blumenthal said. “They have been reluctant to tie those dollars to the programs that helped generate those dollars.’’
The same advocates who argued for more Medicaid money also successfully fought for a sales tax increase, believing that only higher revenues could save their programs. The sales tax may be going up, but, again, the money would be earmarked for other purposes.
The impact on the developmentally disabled will be direct and immediate. Roughly 4,500 families will lose state aid that helps them care for the disabled at home. Employment and job training programs have been cut.
All this for a community that was underserved even before the cuts.
Legislative leaders say that they did the best they could, under trying circumstances. Senator Stephen Pangiotakos, the Senate Ways and Means chairman, said yesterday he fought as long as he could to save the programs that are being slashed.
Pangiotakos noted that revenue projections have declined by $1.5 billion since the House passed its budget.
“They weren’t cut in the first or the second round, but once we were left with cutting $1.5 billion further, we had no choice,’’ he said. “There had to be some shared sacrifice.’’
Pangiotakos is no doubt being sincere when he says he feels bad about this. But the budget is a statement of priorities, and disabled people are expendable unless they are suing someone. One of the few accounts that is going up in the Department of Mental Retardation budget is the direct result of a court judgment, which is too often the case.
It’s easy - far too easy - to paint lawmakers as villains when they are dealing with the worst fiscal crisis in well over a decade. But legislators routinely drone on about their commitment to the most vulnerable among us in public, while failing to follow through in private. This is just a particularly blatant example.
For now, the damage is done, and there is no path that is expected to lead to a reversal.
“I certainly pray that the economy will turn around,’’ Blumenthal said. “Working the Legislature has had limited effect. Maybe prayer is the next move.’’
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com. 