Every child welfare social worker has at least one case that haunts and influences them their entire career. Mine came early on, and it called my attention to social isolation as a risk factor for children.
The court appointed my agency to follow up on a case where there was a young child living with a mother whose mental health issues were well known to her neighbors and family members. The call came regarding the fact that no one had seen either the mother or the child for several weeks. The child was not enrolled in any school program and there was no medical “trail” of service.
On my third try, the mother reluctantly allowed me in to talk. What I found was a home with a kitchen with literally no outside wall — only a blue plastic tarp nailed to the ceiling to keep out the elements. The one bathroom was barely functional and filthy. There was no gas in the home. There was food in the kitchen, but the room was in deplorable condition.
The mother was hostile, halfway incoherent and not in full control of herself. More tragically, her youngster was undernourished, unable to communicate and emotionally vacant.
Eventually, the child was removed and the home was declared unfit. But the experience of stepping into the middle of that situation was my introduction to the perils of isolation.
I learned then, and was reminded many more times, how dangerous disconnections can simmer slowly and then have dramatic results. I was subsequently involved with situations involving a 10-year-old child who never set foot in school, others unable to read or contextualize anything they might be seeing on television.
There were kids who were selectively mute, or who had eating disorders or fits of uncontrollable rage and eventually, medically resistant levels of depression. Children whose spirit and soul were as fragile as their scrawny arm muscles. I eventually participated in child fatality reviews. Social isolation was a factor contributing to the child receiving timely, proactive help.
But even at a time when studies show that families and communities are becoming more isolated by the day, the issue of social disconnection seems to be completely ignored as a harbinger of danger in child welfare. If anything, we are moving in the opposite direction, developing laws and policies that restrict the level of investigative interventions and mandatory reporting. This makes it harder to shed light on families who are cut off from supports and safeguards, because we want to be minimally intrusive.
The circumstances that warrant a child’s removal into foster care are a focus of intense discussion, and rightly so. But in my experience, it is never safe to keep a child at home when we know there’s a real concern and it’s clear the parents have shut out the rest of the world.
Child welfare trailblazers Ray Helfer and Henry Kempe, and later James Garbarino and Candice Odgers, documented the dangers inherent with socially isolated families many years ago. Even the first high-profile child maltreatment report, the famous Mary Ellen Wilson case, involved a little girl who was regularly locked in a closet.
When did we start thinking that families need to be left alone, then become desperate, before we acknowledge the early stages of isolation and child maltreatment?
It’s an established practice when considering risk; isolation is every bit as critical to consider and remediate as it is to provide the essential supports like food, clothing and shelter. We could supply a truck full of support to a family, but if the adult caregivers are detached from other family and kin, formal and informal communities and institutions, we have no way of knowing if the kids are thriving or struggling.
Child welfare agencies need to assess if economic supports are working and preventing further stress within a home. That isn’t possible if no one is interacting with the child and their parents.
Without connections, families reach their limits more quickly. They cannot function effectively in isolation. Even the most able parent among us requires encouragement, guidance and guardrails when difficulty arises. The lines to safety become thinner in isolation because there are no new solutions to family problems, nor sunlight for children.
We don’t debate nearly enough the value of creating social ties as part of the repertoire of actions necessary before we even consider removing a child from their home. It’s an underestimated flaw in our system that has resulted in long-term psychological trauma of children and even child deaths.
Two pieces on this issue provide multidisciplinary child protection teams and family support advocates food for thought.
A 2019 study found that increased opportunities for positive childhood experiences improved the mental and relational health of their adult caregivers. We are exposed to so many studies about adverse childhood experiences as a determinant in a child’s life. I prefer this study that articulates and affirms how to frame the positive factors for children, with a focus on creating family, community, cultural relationships and connections as part of the seven factors for relational health. These are foundational for neighborhood-based family support and prevention programming.
Another recent article published by the American Enterprise Institute is also germane to the involvement of child welfare agencies supporting families with limited income who are socially isolated. The authors note that the recent American Neighbor Survey found that people “with less formal education have experienced the sharpest decline in neighborhood social experiences … and are less able to rely on their neighbors for critical support. Only one in three noncollege mothers feels comfortable relying on a neighbor to watch their children in an emergency.”
It continues: “One reason for the disparity may be a lack of access to many of the social infrastructures that foster conversation and community with our neighbors. Access to neighborhood amenities, such as coffee shops, public parks, and community centers, provides more opportunities to meet with neighbors and cultivate a sense of belonging.”
We should radically rethink our approach to social isolation when it comes to children at risk of entering the child welfare system. No one can seriously believe that fragile families left alone will thrive. The quantity and quality of social connections should be documented in all safety plans, even if that disturbs the sensibilities of advocates who argue for less intervention. Adults who are in control of a child’s environment have the responsibility to keep children safe. Kids generally do not have full agency over their own well-being. The only shot they have at a level playing field, when their home life is compromised, is the presence of another adult who can help.
It is crucial we continue to better parse what is actual child neglect and what is truly a solvable poverty issue. Requiring essential social connections for families, however, should not be debatable.
Child welfare agencies must be prepared with food, clothing and shelter as a first step in stabilizing a family. With those resources at the ready, there is a better chance of further engaging a family and helping them to improve their life situation. Families will almost always respond to these incentives and resources because the instinct and need is so basic.
But some might not be motivated, nor see the value of interacting with others. Parents can willingly choose seclusion. So, let’s also expand our access to recreational, cultural and educational experiences as an option for families.
It is not wise or safe for us to withdraw from child-centered interventions with families who are detached from the outside world in the cause of a parent-first ideology.
Ultimately, the development of social connections benefits both kids and their adult caregivers. For child welfare professionals, creating paths to other family, friends and healthy relationships enhances the likelihood of short-term child safety and long-term family stability.
Again, it’s not debatable. That’s our job.
