Earlier this year, a coalition of federal lawmakers re-introduced longstanding legislation that would create a federal commission to develop reparations proposals for Black descendants of enslaved Americans. At a time when equity-focused initiatives are under attack, doubling down on reparative projects is crucial to protect gains and continue building support for them. And connecting across movements and issues to form strong coalitions is needed more than ever.
My organization, Black Families Love and Unite (BLU) is comprised of families impacted by Child Protective Services (CPS), which we refer to as the family policing system. BLU recently released a report, Families Belong Together: Families Demand Repair, calling for reparations for family policing and to urge organizers and activists to make family policing a central part of the conversation about reparations.
The family policing system touches a stunning number of American families. Every year, millions of parents are reported to CPS for suspected child maltreatment. In 2023, CPS received over 4 million reports. Most of the parents and children that are the subjects of these reports are people of color, and nearly all are low-income.
I don’t seek to convince anyone that the family policing system is racist, unjust and fails to protect children from abuse; others have compellingly made these points. In fact, Black and Latinx CPS workers in New York City acknowledged this in an internal report in 2020. Instead, I aim to share my community’s dreams and visions for a future where Black and brown families can find healing and support.
When I emerged from my own experience with the family policing system, I knew I had to heal my family, but wasn’t sure what that would look like. An apology from my doctor, who unnecessarily subjected me to CPS surveillance, wouldn’t heal the trauma from his threat. And healing the trauma from his threat does not guarantee that he would not do it again to someone else. Medical personnel contribute about 26 percent of CPS reports in any given year. I found myself imagining a world where these harms never took place. Though I was aware of the long history of reparations efforts relating to slavery for Black Americans, I wondered why family policing has not been more central to those conversations.
So, in the spring of 2024, BLU hosted a convening to address this question. There, impacted families shared their stories with family policing and imagined what a reparations framework might look like. This led to the creation of a zine and report that plants the seeds for the long-term project of repair.
Many people conceive reparations narrowly, as cash transfers to people historically wronged. While material redress is important to reparations projects, BLU’s visions — and those of the many other activists and organizations — are broader world-making projects. They center on the United States’ foundation in slavery, its long-term impacts, and present-day carceral structures like mass imprisonment, immigration enforcement and family separation. These projects demand a commitment to acknowledge and apologize for harms, structural changes to prevent future harms and investment into communities historically impacted.
In the context of family policing, impacted people have concrete ideas about what addressing harm might look like. Restitution and compensation might include reunifying families, providing targeted job support for affected parents, direct payments to survivors, and offering culturally relevant, non-judgmental programs to build and sustain generational wealth.
Impacted families should also have meaningful opportunities to heal trauma. This could look like no-strings-attached access to high-quality holistic health services, community-wide healing initiatives and more. These programs would help build community — and community power — in the face of a system that depends on families’ isolation. Or, as one convening participant put it, “Systems are isolating, [they] make you feel ashamed.”
Reparations for family policing also calls for government divestment from the family policing system and reinvestment into culturally relevant and trauma-informed community programs. This shift in priorities is essential: it would end or lessen the system’s punitive approach and cede power to communities to develop systems of care and support. Concrete systemic reform is necessary for the system to stop terrorizing communities of color.
One immediate change in this direction would be to end mandated reporting, a legal system requiring certain professionals to report suspected abuse or neglect. Changing or repealing other laws would also help. For example, ending terminations of parental rights, known as the “civil death penalty”, limiting the scope of family policing investigations, and expungement of criminal records for people convicted of crimes of survival, like domestic and sexual violence survivors.
Just like the U.S. has never fully acknowledged slavery’s impact, our nation as a whole has not acknowledged the harms of the family policing system. Government decision-makers and society at large often admit the detriments of foster care, but not everyone understands the system’s origins, its everyday practices and impact on the Black and brown community at large. Educating people about the racist foundations and punitive framework underlying family policing, and accountability for misconduct by players in the system is critical.
Reparations are not just symbolic, and they are not just about payments to impacted people; this alone will not suffice. For instance, the Protecting America’s Children by Strengthening Families Act allows child welfare funds to be used to help families with housing, transportation and other basic needs. But, direct payments alone fail to create alternatives to a harmful system, like well-funded community groups that offer various support services such as restorative justice training to promote community healing. BLU’s vision of reparations encompasses these projects and more.
Today, I reflect on my own experiences and those of the countless other parents who shouldered brutal intervention by the family policing system, and I find myself lucky to be with my son. While I no longer have an open child protective case, the experience has lasting effects. In a time when it is clear that our current systems do not support family well-being, and programs to address the accumulation of disadvantage are banned, I urge us to incorporate family policing into the conversation on reparations for Black Americans. Building a world in which all families can thrive is possible.
