Urban Matters | Pandemic Lockdown Traumas Were Temporary. Child Welfare Traumas Have Lasting Effects

Urban Matters | Pandemic Lockdown Traumas Were Temporary. Child Welfare Traumas Have Lasting Effects

In the early months of the coronavirus pandemic, governments imposed widespread social distancing measures to slow the spread of the virus. For me, the pandemic offers a powerful lesson for both the public and policymakers because it provides a window into the cruelty of alienation that many families endure daily under the so-called child welfare system or, as the family advocacy movement more accurately calls it, the “family policing system.” While Covid-era isolation was understood as temporary and necessary, the isolation imposed by the family policing system is indefinite and punitive.

To convey what that ongoing enforced isolation feels like for families entangled in this system, consider the onset of Covid. Offices, once brimming with activity, fell silent as workers retreated to their homes. Previously full of student life and the commotion of ambitious young adults, colleges and universities shut their campuses, turning these miniature cities into ghost towns. Hospitals barred visitors, forcing patients to undergo procedures and recover in isolation, without the comfort of loved ones. Striking up friendly conversations in coffee shops and lounges vanished. Countless other social spaces, such as bars, restaurants, and clubs, also closed indefinitely. Events of all kinds, including weddings, baby showers, parties, and sporting events, were canceled, severing people from celebratory social rituals.

These changes were not without consequence. In private, many sought professional help to cope with depression, anxiety, and a profound sense of lost community. Publicly, conversations about loneliness and isolation flooded social media. The reality of Covid-19 was sobering. While it has long been understood that human beings are social creatures, the dwindling down of connections revealed just how deeply isolation and alienation wear on the human spirit.

It is precisely such enforced isolation that makes the family policing system so cruel. Through a range of policies and practices, this system sorts, separates, and confines families, functioning as an isolation machine designed to break bonds and sever support. Instead of lockdowns, it imposes separation through constant surveillance, shaming, control, and the ever-present threat of child removal (all justified in the name of safety). The result is the systematic alienation and isolation of families.

Decades before the pandemic made isolation and alienation a mainstream concern, it was already central to how my family and countless other families had experienced the family policing system. In the early 2000s, my family entered New York City’s shelter system. Understanding how housing insecurity can entangle a family with Child Protective Services (CPS) is crucial, as housing instability is one of the top reasons for child removals nationwide. (In New York City, CPS activities are carried out by the Administration for Children’s Services, or ACS.) Not all shelters share records with CPS directly, but many maintain internal files and are required, as “mandated reporters,” to report any suspicion of neglect or abuse. Because economic hardship and lack of access to family wellbeing support is systematically viewed as neglect by CPS, the shelter system becomes another layer of surveillance for families already burdened by poverty and instability. The rigid structure of shelters, with their strict curfews, limited visitation hours, and the constant vulnerability to staff discretion, compounds this pressure.

Like shelters, other institutions that claim to support families, such as mental health services, often function as extensions of the family policing system. Mental health professionals – therapists, social workers, counselors – are also mandated reporters. Their legal obligation to report suspected abuse or neglect can turn therapeutic spaces into sites of scrutiny. Many parents are left in an impossible position: speak honestly and risk being reported, or withhold information and lose access to the very resources they need. This Catch-22 corrodes the possibility of trust. Support becomes conditional, and families remain isolated, unable to fully access care without fear of surveillance.

Then there’s the enduring stigma of CPS involvement itself. Child protective agencies have had a stranglehold on the public narrative, presenting themselves as family-centered institutions committed to protecting vulnerable children. As a result, onlookers like educators, neighbors, and even family members often assume that any parent under investigation must have been, in some way, neglectful or abusive. Even when allegations are unsubstantiated (and in New York City nearly 80 percent of all reports are unfounded), suspicion can linger. Many parents describe feeling embarrassed, judged, and having their reputations permanently damaged. CPS involvement is a difficult label to shake, and that perception only deepens the alienation families already experience.

The fight against the alienation and isolation caused by CPS and the broader child welfare system has been ongoing for decades. The Narrowing the Front Door (NTFD) Work Group is building on that legacy by continuing and driving deeper the work of those who have long called for systemic change. NTFD is composed of system-impacted youth, parents, and family members, along with lawyers, academics, government employees, and leaders from philanthropic and nonprofit organizations. The Center for New York City Affairs, JMACforFamilies, and civil rights attorney Angela Burton are its co-chairs. Through their collective work, the group aims to “…critically examine the current approach to child protection and family support – identifying what works, exposing systemic failures, and offering recommendations to end arbitrary, abusive, and unwarranted government interventions in families.” Their work also includes “establishing mechanisms for accountability for both historical and ongoing harm inflicted by the family regulation system…”

The coalition is collaborating with the New York City Commission on Racial Equity (CORE) to establish an Accountability Council and with the City Council on a resolution that acknowledges harm. Community members will comprise the Accountability Council, taking the lead in a public dialogue to identify harm and implement reforms.

Another priority of NTFD is to move support for families into communities and away from the surveillance and stigma of ACS and other government agencies. Families in poverty need direct cash assistance, essential goods, mental health and crisis support, along with all the other various resources children need to thrive – from quality education to dance classes. Another lesson from the pandemic was the capacity of grassroots and mutual aid organizations to meet the needs of our neighbors. Public resources must be shifted to communities, with flexibility for them to determine how to best meet those needs.

Other strategies to end the alienation and overreach of the system are included in legislation to end anonymous reporting (currently pending Governor Kathy Hochul’s signature). A proposed Family Miranda bill would require CPS to inform families of their rights at the start of an investigation, similar to the way police must read so-called Miranda rights. (A rally at the State Capitol earlier this year supporting this legislation is pictured above.)

There’s also a class action lawsuit, led by the Family Justice Law Center, challenging ACS for investigating families without court orders; The case, Gould v. City of New York, argues that this practice violates Fourth Amendment protections against unwarranted searches of private homes. These efforts are driving a growing understanding of family policing and a shift towards genuine support for families.

As the call to change this system becomes louder, we must also carry forward the lessons of the Covid-19 pandemic, chief among them being: alienation and isolation wear on the human spirit.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.