Maryland’s Family Courts Are Failing Families

In theory, Maryland’s family courts are supposed to be the guardians of justice for families in crisis—handling divorce, custody, support, and domestic violence with impartiality and compassion. But in reality, they’ve become a bureaucratic maze riddled with inefficiencies, financial hurdles, and questionable practices that harm the very families they claim to protect. And despite the glossy brochures and polished websites, Maryland’s Judiciary continues to ignore the warning signs.

This isn’t just about inefficiency—it’s about a system that’s slowly losing the trust of the people it serves.

1. Justice Delayed Is Justice Denied

Let’s start with the obvious: Maryland’s family court system is overwhelmed. In places like Baltimore City, families wait months—sometimes over a year—for hearings that determine where their children sleep at night. The courts blame caseloads. But what they don’t address is the emotional and financial trauma that comes from waiting endlessly while your life hangs in limbo.

Temporary “pendente lite” orders? You’re lucky if you get one before your child starts high school. If a child is in danger or a parent is being alienated, “just wait” isn’t a solution—it’s a sentence.

2. Pro Se Means Pro Struggle

Family law is supposed to be accessible to everyday people. But unless you have a spare $10,000 to hire a lawyer, good luck navigating it. Maryland’s Family Help Centers are well-meaning, but limited. They can hand you a form—but they can’t argue your case, ensure fairness, or correct judicial bias.

This creates a two-tiered system: the legally literate and the desperate. And the latter often lose not because they’re wrong, but because they don’t know how to file an “exception” or decipher a magistrate’s footnote.

3. Bias Behind Closed Doors

Family courts are notorious for operating in secrecy—ostensibly to protect children. But that secrecy also protects judicial misconduct, rubber-stamped custody evaluations, and court-appointed professionals who sometimes seem more interested in collecting fees than protecting kids.

There are growing reports of biased decisions based on gender, income, or disability status. Marylanders are told to trust the process—but what happens when the process is broken?

4. Financial Gatekeeping Disguised as Services

Mediation, custody evaluations, parenting classes—many of these are court-ordered. And many cost hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars. Yes, some counties offer waivers. But if your income is even modest, you may fall through the cracks and be forced to choose between legal compliance or paying your rent.

Low-income families are especially vulnerable, and the courts rarely make exceptions for people trying to comply but unable to afford the “services” mandated by judges.

5. The Misuse of Domestic Violence Claims

Domestic violence is a serious issue. But in Maryland courts, protective orders are sometimes handed out with little scrutiny—and used as tactical weapons in custody battles. Judges often err on the side of caution, issuing temporary orders that label one parent an abuser without due process.

Meanwhile, the falsely accused suffer permanent reputational harm, are denied access to their children, and are forced to fight uphill to restore basic rights.

6. Children Are an Afterthought

Despite programs like KidShare and parenting classes, support for children in the legal process is inconsistent at best. Some courthouses don’t even have supervised waiting areas for kids. Mental health support? Only if parents can pay out of pocket. And when custody is decided by rushed evaluations or overburdened magistrates, children’s long-term needs are often overlooked.

7. Tech Upgrades, But Still Technologically Backward

Maryland boasts about the MDEC e-filing system. But for many litigants—especially older, disabled, or rural residents—these tools are confusing and inaccessible. Remote hearings have helped reduce travel, but if you don’t have reliable Wi-Fi, you might miss a hearing entirely. The court doesn’t care; your case will be dismissed anyway.

8. Systemic Allegations Deserve Attention

Social media is littered with Maryland parents sharing horror stories: children placed in foster care on flimsy allegations, parents barred from medical records, judges who won’t listen. Are all these stories true? No. But the volume of them—uninvestigated, unanswered, unresolved—points to a deeper problem: a culture of judicial impunity and administrative opacity.

9. The False Promise of “Best Interest”

Judges claim to operate under the “best interest of the child.” But how is that determined? Through custody evaluators who may never see the child with both parents? Through biased GALs who are paid by only one party? Through a court order written by a magistrate after hearing 45 minutes of rushed testimony?

In truth, “best interest” has become a vague mantra used to justify nearly any decision, no matter how one-sided or destructive.

A System in Need of Overhaul

Maryland’s family courts don’t need a tweak—they need a transformation. That means:

• Mandatory judicial transparency: Audio or video recordings of all family court hearings.
• Court-appointed counsel: For indigent litigants in high-stakes custody or protective order cases.
• Disability access compliance: Including ADA accommodation enforcement, training, and oversight.
• Parental rights protections: With penalties for proven false accusations and misuse of protective orders.
• Audit and review: Of all court-appointed professionals—evaluators, GALs, therapists—for financial conflicts of interest and outcome bias.

It’s time to stop pretending Maryland’s family courts are “helping families.” They are, in many cases, tearing them apart—with no accountability, no transparency, and no consequences.

If family court reform is ever going to happen in Maryland, it will require the public to speak out, demand answers, and challenge a system that has operated in the shadows for too long.

It’s not about partisan politics—it’s about parental rights, child welfare, and constitutional accountability. And the clock is ticking.