GUEST POST: Torn Apart: How the Abolition Movement Destroys Foster Youth – And How Listening To Us Can Build A Safer World

by Patty Flores

I am grateful to be publishing this essay by a gifted and needed young voice in the child welfare space. Liliana “Patty” Flores, MSW is a clinician, researcher, advocate, educator, and motivational speaker. Her intersectionality and affiliation with marginalized identities such as being an undocumented Salvadoran female, LGBTQ+, foster youth, homeless, and cycling in and out of juvenile jails, have shaped the way she sees social issues. Patty was born in El Salvador and migrated to the U.S. at age 10. She spent half of her life in foster care, struggling with substance abuse. Patty turned 18 years old in jail. She eventually graduated high school and enrolled in college while still incarcerated. She now has an A.A. in Social and Behavioral Sciences, an A.S. in Administration of Justice from Pierce College, a B.A. in Sociology from UC Riverside, and a Master’s in Social Work from Smith College. Her goal is to empower those of similar backgrounds like herself. Read more about Patty and her work at www.defyinglabels.com. –Marie Cohen

Imagine going to school with bumps on your head and bruises on your back and legs from being repeatedly punched and kicked; this was my reality as a kid. Youth with lived experiences in foster care face countless challenges, even when the abuse finally stops – one way or another. For me, it stopped because at age 12 I reported it. I then found myself in foster care and having to navigate the complicated child welfare system, speaking little English and knowing nothing about how the child protection system (CPS) works in this country. Although my experience in care was hard for numerous reasons, including substance use, incarceration, homelessness, and being undocumented, I am alive only because this country has a system of protection in place for children and youth like me who have been victimized by their parents.

The movement to abolish the current child welfare system –spearheaded by the organization upEND and its co-founder, Alan Detlaff–has sparked useless controversy and divided the community of people who are concerned with child safety, permanency, and wellbeing. Former foster youth like me, who are pursuing college and graduate education, are silenced in our classrooms. Also silenced are our allies, who are shamed for wanting to pursue a career in child welfare. The child welfare abolition movement originated from academics like Detlaff who have no lived experience of foster care. Who are these ivory tower elites to tell anyone that foster care is unnecessary and should be eliminated when they’ve not lived through it themselves?

The child welfare abolitionists have chosen to ignore those of us with lived experience of child abuse and neglect who refuse to endorse their program of eliminating the child protection system. Are they too uncomfortable to talk about the cruel truth of being an abused or neglected child? Do they fear this conversation will thwart their efforts to abolish the system? It’s much easier to ignore the issues of child abuse and child deaths, to avoid engagement with survivors, and to see only the adult perpetrators as victims, than to recognize the reality of child abuse and neglect. It is also much easier to talk about tearing a system down than to grapple with the question of how to build one up that truly promotes child safety, permanency, and well-being. It is harder to acknowledge the harms of child maltreatment and work together with us to find solutions that ensure our safety, stability, and well-being. Abolitionists are choosing the easy, less messy way out. They argue that foster care is not the answer. But for some of us, it is the only answer after experiencing abuse and neglect without extended family support.

I was born in El Salvador and am a descendant of the Pueblo Pipil, an indigenous group of people in El Salvador. I migrated to the United States as an unaccompanied minor at the age of ten. My background is rooted in a history of civil war and the struggle of oppressed indigenous people to overthrow those in power. In the United States, child welfare abolitionists often label themselves as “revolutionary” or claim to be engaging in “revolutionary” social work, but they are mistaken. True revolution occurs when the community rises up against oppression from those in power, not the other way around. These are the lessons I have learned from my revolutionary ancestors.

Child welfare abolitionists use the term to brand themselves as social justice warriors and silence those with lived foster care experiences. They discuss child protection and foster care among themselves, excluding the very people most affected. It is an abuse of power for the “abolitionists” to neglect the voices of those with lived experiences in foster care, while enhancing their own prestige within the elite ivory tower.

Advocates for abolishing the child welfare system (or as they call it, the “family policing system”) argue that collective efforts and community involvement are the solution in cases of child abuse and neglect. Yet nearly five years have passed since the inauguration of upEND, and the child welfare abolition movement has not provided specifics about how this would look in practice. Nor have I heard Dettlaff or other child welfare abolitionists discuss the experiences of young people like me who endured abuse and neglect. Are they afraid of the harsh realities we’ve experienced? How can they even talk about the child welfare system when they refuse to acknowledge our existence?

I keep asking myself these questions: where was the community when I witnessed my mother being violently attacked, with a gun held to her head by my father? Where was the community when Gabriel Fernandez lost his life? Where was the community when Danieal Kelly was starved to death by her mother? Or much more recently, as four-year-old Jahmeik Modlin, slowly starved to death in an apartment stocked with food? Where is the community when children continue to lose their lives at the hands of their caregivers daily? When I’ve spoken to community members about their role in intervening when child maltreatment or violence on the streets occurs (a “solution” prescribed by the “abolitionists”), they’ve expressed fears of retaliation or concerns about getting themselves into dangerous situations where they could be attacked by the perpetrators.

The child welfare abolitionists have manipulated many young people, students, and activists into adopting oversimplified, Black and White narratives that erase other ethnic groups and the intersectionality children like me experience. To support their argument, they assert that the media is responsible for over-emphasizing cases of abuse and deaths, which they contend are infrequent. But when you grow up witnessing so much violence, abuse, and neglect firsthand, you don’t have to watch the stories on the news. In fact, I did not grow up watching any TV. I learned about all this violence because I lived it.

College and university professors who support abolition (and who have never worked in the system) consistently push the narrative that CPS serves only to break Black and Brown families apart. They rarely if ever acknowledge the suffering endured by the over half a million children and youth who are abused and neglected annually and the need for a system of child protection in this country. As a young person with lived experience in an abusive family, I felt compelled to speak up in the classroom. And I did, immediately standing out with my thick accent and visible head tattoos. Fortunately, many of my classmates, including peers with experience in foster care, supported me and together we pushed back against professors’ biases and prejudice. I felt powerless growing up, and I still feel powerless as I navigate the racist, sexist, and classist world of academia.

In Defying Labels: From Negative Credentials to Positive Credentials?, an article I wrote for a newsletter at UC Riverside, I explained that society often shifts blame to the child for revealing family secrets in cases of abuse and neglect. The last thing I want as an adult is to keep being torn down and silenced by those in positions of power – professors, researchers, policy analysts, lawyers, and others. The abolition movement is tearing foster youth apart. Why not actually listen to what we have to say? This is the only way toward a safer world for all.

Diverse opinions not accepted: Censorship by a contractor of the U.S. Children’s Bureau

Instances of censorship and restrictions of free speech from both ends of the political spectrum have drawn increasing concern as the country’s polarization has increased. I have been very grateful that a digest of child welfare news and opinion articles funded by the federal government has for years been sharing my work–which often takes aim at the ideology prevailing in child welfare. But last July, the government contractor that prepares these digests declined to share one of my opinion pieces–while continuing to share other commentaries with a different perspective. My attempt to get an explanation has resulted in a series of bizarre communications that only heighten my fears that a government-funded organization is censoring the views that it shares.

Child Welfare in the News (CWN), a daily email sponsored by the US Children’s Bureau, has contributed significantly to Child Welfare Monitor‘s growth from its creation in 2016. CWN is an “email subscription service that provides a daily collection of news stories and opinion pieces from across the country and around the world.” It is an activity of the Child Welfare Information Gateway (CWIG), which is part of the Children’s Bureau and is managed by a consulting firm called ICF. For several years, I have been sharing links to Child Welfare Monitor commentaries with the ICF librarians who put together CWN and they have in turn provided links to these pieces, along with excerpts, in their daily mailings. At least until last July.

On July 24, 2023, I published The Misuse of Lived Experience in Child Welfare. The gist of the piece was that while all lived experiences are valid and valuable, their use can be problematic when experiences that support a particular perspective are highlighted and those that contradict it are not, or when evidence from data and research are ignored in favor of curated narratives. When I shared the blog post with the CWN staff as usual, I received a message saying “We’ll get back to you in a few days with a response on this article.” This was unexpected. When I checked for an update on July 31, an ICF librarian responded that “we are still working to review this article, and expect to have a response soon.” I emailed again on September 7 and heard that “We’ve not yet received a response or decision on this article.”

I replied asking to whom my commentary had been submitted and why, what the review criteria would be, and when I could expect a response. Receiving no answer, I wrote on September 14 to the Communications Director of the Administration on Children and Families, parent agency of the Children’s Bureau. I also submitted a Freedom of Information Act request asking for any emails that contain my name or that of Child Welfare Monitor.

On September 22, I received a response from Kai Guterman, the “Senior Manager of Knowledge Management” at ICF, which included the following: “As you know from your past submissions, The Child Welfare Information Gateway is a service of the Children’s Bureau and as such, as part of our standard process our team reviews all requests submitted. Upon our review, this request was not selected for posting as it contains personal fundraising links.” I was totally baffled by this response. I was not aware of any “personal fundraising links” in my piece, but an alert reader informed me after I published this blog that the photo I used of the family of Vanessa Peoples (the mother whose bad experience with CPS was cited by Dorothy Roberts in her book), came from a GoFundMe page set up to help her and her family. Not realizing that at the time I replied, asking Mr. Guterman to describe these links so I could remove them and allow the post to be shared by CWN. Thirteen days later I received the following response:

Thank you for following up and agreeing to exclude the fundraising link.

We have conducted a review of the Misuse of “Lived Experience” in Child Welfare blog submission request. While we appreciate your submission, it has been determined that it will not be included in the Child Welfare in the News since this specific blog post has a strong emphasis on storytelling, calls out individuals [sic] names, makes personal opinion statements about individuals, and focuses on editorial and opinion-based content.

As you consider future submissions, please review how much editorial or opinion-based content is included and ensure the content is not driven by or connected with fundraising purposes.
Email from Kai Guterman, Senior Manager of Knowledge Management, ICF, October 5, 2023

This message from Mr. Guterman was even more confusing than the previous one. It is certainly true that my blog post names several individuals, including the writer Dorothy Roberts and several people who have shared their lived experience with the child welfare system in writing and/or in oral testimony, and I included links to all of their writings. But not many news or opinion articles shared by CWN fail to name individuals. And my post does not make any “personal opinion statements” about these individuals other than summarizing or quoting their views and saying that other types of experiences also exist. The “strong emphasis on storytelling,” leaves me totally baffled. Indeed, the major point of the essay was to question the use of individual stories to make policy. Is it possible that Mr. Guterman missed the point of my blog or did not read it at all? Moreover, removing articles that tell stories would probably exclude more than half the content that is currently included in CWN–pretty much every news story and many opinion pieces as well.

And finally, Mr. Guterman asserts that my piece “focuses on editorial and opinion-based content.” Yes, most of my blog posts are opinion pieces and are labeled as such in the CWN emails, along with opinion pieces by other authors. Since I published my lived experience blog, the newsletter has shared numerous opinion pieces. At least four of these commentaries were by a writer named Richard Wexler. From beginning to end, Wexler’s essays “focus on editorial and opinion-based content,” as Mr. Guterman put it. Here is one example from Child abuse: the surge that wasn’t, a commentary from August 17, 2023 that was shared by CWN.”The American family policing system, a more accurate term than “child welfare” system, is built on ‘health terrorism’ – misrepresenting the true nature and scope of a problem in the name of ‘raising awareness.'” Some of Wexler’s pieces “have a strong emphasis on storytelling.” For example, in Child Well-Being Doesn’t Require Family Policing, also shared by CWN, Wexler devotes seven paragraphs to the story of one family that he says was victimized by a false accusation of child abuse.

As far as “calling out individuals,” CWN shared a piece by Wexler entitled Attn: New Hampshire “Child Advocate – there are horrendous institutions in your state too.” In that commentary, Wexler “calls out” the New Hampshire Child Advocate by name, telling readers that she was “understandably proud of herself” for getting two New Hampshire teenagers out of an abusive institution. But she “took matters too far” when she said according to a local news station that she and her staffers could finally get a good night’s sleep after removing the two teenagers from the institution. But nobody should be getting a good night’s sleep as long as “children are institutionalized,” according to Wexler. “And [the Child Advocate], of all people, should know it” because last year her predecessor issued a report exposing abuse at a New Hampshire institution. He goes on to label as “disheartening” her proposal to form a commission to address the issue of residential care.

It is noteworthy that Wexler’s pieces tend to endorse the prevailing ideology about child welfare, albeit often in an extreme way, while mine tend to challenge it. But Wexler is not the only author of opinion pieces that tell stories and mention individuals and nevertheless are shared by CWN. In addition to commentaries by Wexler, the newsletter has shared opinion pieces with titles like “The Child Welfare System Is Failing Children, Separating Black and Brown Families,” and “What To Do When Children’s Services Comes to the Door,” which also endorse the prevailing view. But my essay has been rejected, ostensibly for the same characteristics that these pieces display. Could it be that the creators of CWN are discriminating based on viewpoint?

As Mr. Guterman mentioned, ICF produces CWN under contract for the Children’s Bureau, which has wholeheartedly endorsed the prevailing view of child welfare promoted by a group of well-heeled foundations and nonprofits, consulting firms and influential commentators. This narrative portrays a racist child welfare system that disproportionately investigates, intervenes with and separates Black children and families. It disregards the evidence that the need for protection is also much greater among Black children, suggesting that they are more likely underrepresented in relation to their need. The dominant viewpoint asserts that foster care is harmful and rarely necessary and that “prevention services” including financial aid can eliminate the need for most child removals. It holds that children should almost never be placed in non-family placements such as group homes or residential treatment centers. Proponents of this perspective hailed the Family First Act, which has failed to add significant preventive services while catastrophically reducing the availability of placements for the most troubled and traumatized young people, resulting in an explosion in the number of youths staying in offices, hotels and other inappropriate placements.

In my censored commentary, I provided examples of how the child welfare establishment and its preferred authors tend to share only the lived experiences that support their views, while ignoring experiences that support different viewpoints. And I gave examples of foster care alumni who have shared experiences of foster care and group homes that contradict the ones that have been repeatedly highlighted. Instead of choosing only the personal stories that support preferred views, I suggested that it is more useful to survey large samples of foster care youths or alumni. And I reported that such surveys result in much more positive views of foster care and group homes than those of the individuals who have been highlighted.

Over the years, Child Welfare Monitor has consistently expressed views that sharply question those of the child welfare establishment. But the CWN staff has never declined to share a piece because of its content. The website description of CWN states that the inclusion of a link “does not imply endorsement of any view expressed in a story and may not reflect the opinions of Child Welfare Information Gateway, the Children’s Bureau, or either organization’s staff.” So they clearly do not need to vet submissions for viewpoint.

The reason for the sudden change in practice (without notification or a change in the website language) remains a mystery, but one might speculate that it has something to do with a decreased tolerance for diverse views. But ICF or the Children’s Bureau would be violating the spirit and possibly the letter of the First Amendment if it were purposely excluding from a government publication content that does not fit the prevailing view. The Supreme Court has ruled that the government cannot discriminate against speech based on viewpoint, stating that: “When the government targets not subject matter but particular views taken by speakers on a subject, the violation of the First Amendment is all the more blatant. Viewpoint discrimination is thus an egregious form of content discrimination. The government must abstain from regulating speech when the specific motivating ideology or the opinion or perspective of the speaker is the rationale for the restriction.”

The possibility of viewpoint discrimination by the federal government or its contractor is deeply disturbing. But ICF’s dishonesty is also concerning. I was told for weeks that the article was still under review. When I persisted, I was told that my piece was censored because of “personal fundraising links” that I could not identify. When I asked to be shown the links so I could remove them, I was then given an entirely different explanation. And the new explanation was equally absurd, citing issues with my blog that either did not exist or were common to many other pieces shared in CWN. So there must be another reason they have not given me, and discrimination based on viewpoint is the only one that comes to mind.

It is unfortunate that my attempt to tell the truth about child welfare has finally come up against the increased intolerance for diverse views, even in a government-funded clearinghouse. Unless I find an organization that wants to take my case to court, it is unlikely that “The Misuse of Lived Experience” will be published in Child Welfare in the News. I’ll have to rely my readers to share my writing with their colleagues. Please share this blog and my censored post and urge people to follow Child Welfare Monitor. We cannot let the censors win.

The misuse of “lived experience” in child welfare

Vanessa Peoples: Gofundme, https://www.gofundme.com/f/nb2wut-help-vanessa-get-back-on-her-feet

“Those closest to the problem have the answers to solving it. Every child welfare policy and project should prioritize incorporating the expertise, perspectives and experiences of the people whose lives have been directly impacted by the system. We call this ‘centering lived experience.'” There is a lot of truth in these words from an organization called Think of Us and a lot of good in the current focus in child welfare and other fields on considering the actual experience of people affected by systems when developing new policies and practices for these systems. But the emphasis on lived experience has potential pitfalls. When experiences that support a particular perspective are highlighted and those that contradict it are not, and when evidence from data and research are ignored in favor of narratives that may be outliers, there is a risk of adopting policies and practices that hurt, rather than help, children and families.

As described in a brilliant article by Naomi Schaefer Riley and Sarah Font, it is “individuals and groups with a platform” like foundations, government agencies, and journalists, that “select the people with lived experience to serve on advisory boards, testify to Congress, give media interviews, or otherwise disseminate their story.” The “lived experiences” that are selected tend to support the views of what I call the “child welfare establishment,” which includes federal, and many state and local child welfare agency leaders; foundations and nonprofits; consulting firms; and influential commentators and writers. They tend to believe that foster care is harmful and rarely necessary, and that on the rare occasions when children are youth must be placed in foster care, they should almost never be placed in “congregate care” placements such as group homes or residential treatment centers.

Let us start with the idea that foster care is rarely necessary, and the child protective services (or the “family policing system” as author Dorothy Roberts and others put it) removes children from loving parents who just need a little bit of help, thus harming rather than helping children. The story of Vanessa Peoples illustrated this thesis so well that it was shared by numerous media outlets before being picked up by Dorothy Roberts to begin her book, Torn Apart, about how the child welfare system “destroys Black families.” Peoples was a mother of three small children who was apparently doing everything right; she was married, going to nursing school, about to rent a townhouse and was even a cancer patient. But Peoples attracted the attention of both the police and child welfare and ended up hogtied and carted off to jail by police, placed on the child abuse registry, and subjected to months of monitoring by CPS after she lost sight of her toddler at a family picnic in June 17 when a cousin was supposed to be watching him.

From the information provided by Roberts and others, it sounds like Peoples’ was the victim of a hyperactive agency and police department, but it is also possible that critical details were omitted from the narrative. Moreover, Roberts did not include any narratives from people with a very different experience, like this one from Kiana Deane writing in The Imprint: “For me, meth became the pernicious thief that stole my home, my sense of belonging and, at times, my well-being. Being placed in a foster home saved me. Though foster parenting is not for everyone, I couldn’t imagine a world without the protection of the foster care system.” The Kiana Deanes are not asked to testify before Congress, highlighted in books by trending authors, or interviewed by the mainstream media for stories on foster care. (But kudos to The Imprint, which has published many narratives from youths who are grateful that they were placed in foster care.)

Then there’s the issue of group homes versus foster family homes. We all “know” that group homes and residential treatment centers are houses of horror because that is the only thing we ever hear. In the two hearings it held on the Family First Act, the Senate Finance Committee heard from only one person with “lived experience” in a group home, and that was Lexie Gruber, who told Senators about the locked food cabinets, punitive disciplinary system, over-medication, and the lack of emotional support that characterized her group home experience in Connecticut. But Senators did not hear from anyone like Imani Young, who wrote in The Imprint: “Eventually, OCFS (the Office of Children and Family Services) brought me to a wonderful placement called St. Christopher’s. …While in the NY child welfare system, I wanted to feel safe, comfortable, respected and not neglected, and St. Christopher’s made me feel all of THOSE above. They taught me independent living skills, helped me manage my money, got the counseling I needed, and taught me that there’s more to life.”

Other than the selective presentation of lived experiences to be highlighted, another problem with using individual narratives to develop policy is that each person presents their own version of their story, which may leave out crucial details. It is rare for a journalist, author, or Congressional committee to check up on the accuracy of a story that supports the broader narrative they are seeking to portray. Vanessa Peoples’ wanted to portray herself as an innocent victim who did nothing to merit the intervention of CPS, and Roberts had no interest in finding inaccuracies in her story. Lexie Gruber, too, was intent on making the case against group care. She did not talk about the support that she must have gotten from the group home in order to get into college, or any other positive aspects of the care she received.

When the media, congressional committees or advocacy groups select only one set of lived experiences to highlight, real harm can result. Take the passage of the flawed Family First Prevention Services Act (FFPSA) in 2018 after only two hearings with a “curated” group of invited speakers who were clearly chosen to support passage of the bill. Lexie Gruber was the only former foster youth who spoke at the hearing on group homes and other congregate care placements, which was titled No Place to Grow Up: How to Safely Reduce Reliance on Foster Care Group Homes. When it was finally passed in 2018, FFPSA contained drastic restrictions on federal reimbursements for group homes and other residential placements. I wrote in a recent post about how those restrictions have contributed to a placement crisis around the country, with the most troubled foster youth spending weeks or months in offices, hotels, jails, hospitals and other inappropriate and harmful settings. I don’t claim that hearing from Lexie Gruber caused Congress to impose drastic restrictions on group homes, but it was certainly used to support that action.

Don’t get me wrong. Every individual’s story has value. Such stories allow us to visualize the reality behind dry data and statistics. But, to make policy, we need to know whether a story we hear is an outlier or representative of the average experience. It’s not that outliers don’t matter; we need to have protections to ensure that the worst possible outcomes (like the killing of 16-year-old Cornelius Fredericks in a residential treatment center run by Sequel Youth and Family Services) don’t occur. But making policy assuming the outliers represent the majority can lead to disastrous outcomes, like the congregate care provisions of FFPSA.

In contrast to individual narratives, surveying a representative sample of people with lived experience in a particular setting or system can provide information that is useful for policy purposes. Such information is not guaranteed to be accurate; survey response rates are often suboptimal and those who do respond may differ systematically from those who don’t. Nevertheless, such surveys are a much more accurate way of assessing lived experience than relying on individual anecdotes.

And it happens that in child welfare, surveys of older foster care youth and alumni present a much more positive picture than what has been presented by the child welfare establishment and the media. In four studies of former foster care youth reviewed by Barth et al, majorities said that they were lucky to have been placed in care. Most recently, the CalYOUTH study followed a cohort of 727 youth who were in foster care at age 17, with personal interviews every other year until they were 23 years old. At 23, 68.4 percent of the 621 respondents said that they were lucky to have been placed in foster care. And 57.4 percent were “generally satisfied” with their experience in foster care.

There are few studies of youth perspectives on residential care, but a recently published study in a leading child welfare journal reports on the experience of 450 youths placed in 127 licensed residential care programs in Florida between 2018 and 2019. The youths responded to a validated quality assessment that asked them to rate their facilities on elements of service quality in seven domains based on evidence and current best practice standards. Overall, youth provided high ratings of their residential programs on all seven domains. The mean ratings indicated that youths felt their facilities were “mostly to completely” meeting the standards across all domains.¹

This does not mean that there are no children who could have stayed safely with their families and not been placed in foster care had the right help been provided. Nor does it mean that there are no terrible group homes. The current placement crisis (to which FFPSA has contributed) means that more youths will be placed in neglectful or even abusive homes or facilities than if this crisis did not exist. But when advocates of one point of view choose to share only those experiences that support their viewpoint, the use of lived experience to support particular policy proposals can lead to policy choices that are harmful to the people they are intended to help.

Note

But not all surveys are based on large, scientifically-chosen samples. For example, the nonprofit,Think of Us, which has the aim of “centering lived experience,” published a report called Away from Home: Youth Experiences of Institutional Placements in Foster Care. That report is based on the responses of 78 young people residing in what it called “institutional placements, which included group homes, homes for pregnant and parenting teens, and therapeutic residential treatment facilities around the country. Among the conclusions of the report were that institutional placements were prisonlike (“carceral”), punitive and traumatic for their residents and failed to meet child welfare mandates to provide safety and wellbeing. The methodology section, relegated to an Appendix, reveals that the 78 participants were recruited through an “open call for participation through youth advisory boards and community partners.” Assuming that these are advisory boards and community partners of Think of Us, and knowing that the nonprofit and its CEO are associated with the dominant viewpoint on group care, one has to wonder whether the recruitment process produced an unbiased sample.