The Fight to Be a Father: Jeremy Quasius and the Push for Family Court Reform
- Markola Williams

- Dec 7
- 5 min read
In Wisconsin, the numbers paint a clear picture long before anyone steps inside a courtroom. A study from the Institute for Research on Poverty at the University of Wisconsin–Madison found that 89 percent of physical custody awards historically went to mothers in Wisconsin and Michigan. Nationally, nearly 80 percent of custodial parents are mothers, while fathers hold only about 20 percent of custodial arrangements. Even when fathers actively pursue custody, they are granted primary placement in only about 17 percent of cases, highlighting systemic barriers for men seeking equal parenting time. These statistics are not abstract. They translate into real families, real losses, and in some cases, real trauma.
That is the world that Jeremy Quasius, a father from Manitowoc, Wisconsin, has been fighting his way through for years. Jeremy has spent nearly a decade inside the family-court system trying to preserve a meaningful relationship with his son. His story is not uncommon, but the depth of what he has lived through makes the bigger issue clear: Wisconsin’s family-law structure is not just outdated, it is actively harming parents and children.
Jeremy remembers the earliest days of his case with a clarity that cuts. “They started the campaign that I was mentally ill,” he says. “I went and took a forensic mental-health evaluation. There was absolutely no mental illness. I actually took two.” Both times he was cleared, yet each time the results were dismissed as “invalid.” At the same time, Jeremy was still learning the legal system. “I didn’t understand the procedures. I was emotional. Who wouldn’t be when your child is being taken from you?”
He describes one moment that still sits in his chest. During an argument where the child’s mother was allegedly passed out drunk with their child present, Jeremy used a curse word. The judge responded: If you don’t respect the mother, you don’t need to see your child. “It didn’t make sense,” Jeremy says. “They have to have grounds to remove your child. You can’t take someone’s kid for a curse word.”
After months of fighting, he gradually rebuilt parenting time, until the day his son confided something that changed everything. His son, four years old at the time, told Jeremy he had been locked in a mudroom. “He was shaking and crying harder than I’ve ever seen a child cry,” Jeremy recalls. “Four years later, he still talks about it.”
When Child Protective Services declined to intervene, Jeremy did what many desperate parents do: he protested. He emailed police first, confirming his right to peacefully picket. But his protest lasted only moments before his ex-partner’s attorney crossed the street and warned him, “You’re never going to see your son again.”
What followed was 15 months of withheld placement. “I was punished for protesting CPS, for doing something my constitutional rights protect.” During those 15 months, Declan remained confused, frightened, and disconnected from his father. Jeremy compares the separation to grieving a death. Anger, sadness, depression, all natural responses, he says, but ones the court later used against him.
Even after the court ultimately found the 15-month separation “completely unreasonable,” Jeremy says the judge still blamed him for his emotional reactions to the situation. “They said I was angry,” Jeremy says. “Well, I was grieving my child. That anger is normal.”
What frustrates him most is the lack of accountability among the professionals involved. The guardian ad litem, he says, dismissed evidence, contradicted doctors, and wrote letters calling him “mentally unstable” even after a licensed evaluator verified he had no mental illnesses and was a loving, fit parent. When the doctor took the stand, the narrative fell apart, but by then the damage was already done.
At one hearing, Jeremy attempted to cite constitutional law, state statutes, and case law. He says the judge cut him off and reminded him of who was “the boss.” “He didn’t want to hear any of it,” Jeremy says. “If you know the law, they take it as you telling them what to do.”
But Jeremy’s experience is not an isolated example of judicial power being used unchecked. Audio obtained from a separate courtroom incident involving Judge Robert DeWane shows just how absolute a judge’s authority can become. In that recording, DeWane can be heard berating a litigant during a routine hearing. When the litigant let out a brief laugh, something he later said was an attempt to control his frustration rather than disrespect the court, the judge immediately ordered him jailed. No warning. No pause. Just instant incarceration for a momentary human reaction.
Meanwhile, Jeremy’s son's trauma has deepened. Now eight years old, he has been hospitalized twice this year alone for suicidal ideation. Research shows that children who experience prolonged separation from a parent are more than twice as likely to develop anxiety and depressive disorders, and children in high-conflict custody cases show significantly higher rates of self-harm behaviors. “I don’t think any parent can hear those words about their eight-year-old and not break inside,” Jeremy says. Still, he says his concerns are brushed off; any attempt to raise issues results in accusations of “harassment.”
“I just want to help my son,” he says quietly. “That’s it.”
Despite everything, Jeremy is still fighting, not just for himself, but for other parents trapped in the same system. He believes the issue goes beyond individual judges or attorneys. “This isn’t about the children,” he says. “The system is just set up to get through the day. They don’t know us. They don’t know our kids. They don’t care.”
He calls for statewide reform: clearer laws, more accountability, and a system that truly prioritizes children over litigation strategy. He wants fathers and mothers to stand together, not against one another. “Our kids need us to fight,” he says. “A lot of dads give up. Don’t. Your kids need you.”
Jeremy has been found a fit parent in court, a legal status that should limit the court’s power over him. Yet he says he continues to face restrictions and orders that he believes violate Wisconsin law. “This shouldn’t be happening in America,” he says. “When a parent is fit, the court is supposed to be hands-off.”
His message is simple but urgent: “I don’t want to bury my child because of a broken legal system.”
Jeremy’s story is one man’s experience, but it is also a window into a larger national crisis, one that demands public attention, legislative reform, and accountability. If Wisconsin’s custody statistics tell us anything, it is that his story is not an exception. It is a reflection of what is happening to parents across the state, and across the country, every single day.






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