Our Team
About Me
My name is Paul Edward Brown, and I am a survivor of the Massachusetts Department of Children and Families (DCF) system — a system that did not protect me but instead abandoned, mislabeled, and ultimately tried to erase me.
I spent most of the 1980s in DCF custody, only to be placed back with the very woman who had abused me — my mother. They returned me to her without real oversight, support, or protection, and what followed was more years of pain and psychological torment. DCF had every opportunity to intervene, but they chose silence over safety.
Then came the 1990s. As I reached my late teens, the system made a deliberate choice: to abandon me entirely. On the morning of May 18, 1998, DCF staff discussed internally how to remove me from their responsibility. That same afternoon — while I was at school — they carried out their plan. I had walked from the foster home I was placed in over the weekend to school that morning, not knowing I wouldn’t be going back. DCF called the school and instructed them to let me go. They told no one where I would be. They made no placement. They left a 17-year-old disabled boy — a child in their legal custody — homeless, scared, and alone in the middle of the school day.
That one decision would shape the rest of my life.
I was left to deal with a world I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t have support. I didn’t have resources. I didn’t even have anyone who gave a damn. What followed was years of chaos: I cycled through jails, institutions, and psychiatric hospitals. I struggled with trauma that no child should be expected to carry, let alone survive. I lost count of the nights I didn’t think I’d make it to the next morning.
And for decades, I blamed myself.
But then, in February 2025, I received documents through a formal records request that changed everything.
Michael FitzPatrick, General Counsel for DCF, sent me redacted records in response to my request. But those redactions weren’t secure. I didn’t hack anything. I didn’t break the law. I simply used basic tools — copy and paste, Optical Character Recognition (OCR) — and I uncovered the truth they tried to bury.
The documents revealed that DCF didn’t just abandon me — they lied to cover it up.
They created false entries to make it look like I refused services. They rewrote events to make me look violent or unstable, rather than a traumatized child reacting to years of abuse. They made it appear as if I was choosing homelessness, when in fact I was begging for placement every 15 minutes. The documents show it. They recorded it. And then they tried to bury it under black bars and silence.
Even more disturbing? The Massachusetts Public Records Division — the office tasked with ensuring transparency and accountability — refused to act. Despite the overwhelming evidence of misconduct and redaction abuse, they chose to shift legal frameworks mid-process, denying me a ruling under the Public Records Law even though DCF responded under it. They’ve ignored FIPA complaints. They’ve ignored their own mandates. And they’ve ignored me.
That’s why this website exists.
I’ve created www.fuckdcf.com, www.fuckdcf.org, and www.fuckdcf.net because I won’t be silent anymore. I will not allow them to erase me. I am posting the documents. I am posting the redacted and unredacted versions. I am showing you exactly what they tried to hide — word for word, line by line.
I invite you to read it all. To learn what they did. To see the truth for yourself.
And I invite you to come forward. If DCF has hurt you, silenced you, or buried your truth — your story matters here. This is a place for survivors. A place for the unheard.
Michael FitzPatrick and those like him may think they can hide behind legal language and public indifference. But I’m making sure the world sees what they’ve done.
He can be found on LinkedIn at: Michael FitzPatrick
Help me expose this corruption.
Help me demand justice.
Help me protect the next child who might be discarded like I was.
Welcome to Fuck DCF.
About Me
My name is Rebecca Gomes, but everyone calls me Bex. I’m a mother of seven beautiful children—my greatest joys, my heart and soul. I birthed each one without medication, breastfed them for over two years, and homeschooled them during the day while working nights—just so I could give them every bit of love, attention, and peace they deserved. I poured my entire being into raising them with care and intention.
But despite all my sacrifices, we were brutally and unjustly torn apart.
This is my story—a painful look at how a system built to protect families can end up destroying them.
My childhood was already shaped by trauma. I grew up navigating a broken family court system that was supposed to protect me from an abusive father—but it failed. Those failures left deep scars. And like too many who carry unhealed wounds, I found myself repeating painful cycles, trapped in relationships with men far more abusive than the one I tried so hard to escape.
I sought help. I went through every channel I could. But I was met with silence, indifference, and neglect. I endured every kind of abuse: emotional, financial, physical, even spiritual. I was isolated, controlled, and left without a voice.
When I finally broke free, I had nothing—no home, no safety net—but I still had my seven children who needed me. So I turned to the one place I thought would help: the Department of Children and Families (DCF). I believed they existed to protect children like mine. I was wrong.
After their father—an abusive man who had broken our bones, whipped us with wires, and stolen everything—kidnapped our children, I begged DCF for help. Instead, they failed to investigate, ignored critical evidence, and shockingly handed custody over to him—a known drug user and abuser.
That decision shattered our lives.
My children have since lived through horrors no child should endure: shootings, drug raids, and ongoing abuse. And it wasn’t just their father who hurt them—it was the system that enabled him. The trauma and PTSD we carry is deep and lasting.
My only "crime" was speaking out—telling the truth. I pointed out DCF’s failures, their false reports, their violations of their own rules, and their blatant disregard for child safety. Their response? Retaliation. They turned on me instead of correcting their wrongs.
But I refuse to be silenced.
Their attacks didn’t break me. They fueled me. Now, I’m fighting back—not just for my own children, but for every family who’s been failed by this system. Because the truth is, I’m not alone. There are thousands—maybe millions—of parents worldwide who have been betrayed by the very institutions meant to protect them.
We’re rising up. Together.
We’re exposing the corruption, the negligence, and the abuse of power inside child welfare agencies. And we’re building something better—a movement to give families real, compassionate, judgment-free support. A safety net that lifts families up, rather than tearing them apart. A community that stands as a shield against injustice.
Our mission is clear: to demand accountability, create change, and make sure no other family experiences what mine has. We won’t stop until these systems finally do what they were created to do: protect, support, and uplift the families they serve.
With strength and purpose,
Bex