The Criminalization of Families of Color in NYC’s Family Policing System

New York County Family Court entrance where hundreds of parents enter in anticipation every day. Photo courtesy of Ajay Suresh.

Shalonda Curtis-Hackett's never-ending nightmare began with a phone call. In 2021, a staffer from New York City’s Administration for Children’s Services (ACS) contacted her, informing her she was under investigation for mistreating her children. They then forcefully entered her home and investigated her refrigerator and children’s sleeping arrangements, examined her bathroom, and even issued an order for her children to receive physicals. The investigation found nothing. 

Curtis-Hackett’s experience is common among families of color in New York City, who are disproportionately scrutinized by child welfare agencies. These agencies claim to investigate court cases of possible child abuse and neglect, provide services to families that need assistance, and arrange for foster care and reunification. However, a closer look at the child welfare system reveals striking parallels to the injustices of the legal system, particularly in policies that tear families apart. These realities reveal a more accurate label for New York City’s child welfare system: a “family policing system” that, despite claims of protecting vulnerable children, frequently criminalizes and devastates families of color, perpetuating racial inequality, poverty, and hardship.

The system is often described as a means to protect vulnerable children. Over the past two decades, ACS has expanded preventive services designed to support families and keep children safely at home. These services include family therapy, substance abuse treatment, mental health counseling, and domestic violence interventions. This effort has reduced the number of children entering foster care from nearly 50,000 in the 1990s to under 8,000 today, while also expanding equitable access to services across neighborhoods.

Despite ACS's progress, there is clear evidence of racial disparities that demonstrate systemic bias in its practices. The city itself reports that Black children are seven times more likely than white children to be the subject of a child protective investigation. Additionally, almost 45 percent of Black and Latino children in NYC will face an ACS investigation by their 18th birthday, compared to just 19 percent of white children. Black families are also more likely to experience harsher outcomes, with Black children being ten times as likely as white children to be removed from their homes and placed into foster care. An analysis of 2019 zip code-level data reveals that these disparities persist even when controlling for socioeconomic status, as Black families are investigated at higher rates despite similar economic circumstances to their white counterparts. This pattern reveals systemic double standards, where families of color face harsher interventions than white families in similar circumstances, perpetuating racial inequities in ACS practices.

ACS further traumatizes families through coercive and intrusive investigative tactics that often infringe upon their rights. The Fourth Amendment guarantees individuals protection from unreasonable searches and seizures, requiring caseworkers to have consent, exigent circumstances, or a court order to enter a home. Families also have the right to refuse entry unless these legal conditions are met. However, ACS often bypasses these protections by exploiting families' lack of awareness of their rights. This systemic overreach is further compounded by ACS standards that reflect white, middle-class norms, which often deem Black parents unfit based on subjective judgments rather than objective risk. Behaviors or conditions deemed acceptable in white families, such as cluttered homes or reliance on extended family for childcare, are often labeled as neglect in Black families. This can be seen in cases like Ronisha Ferguson’s, where a caseworker arrived unannounced, “pounded like police,” and forced her children to lift their shirts and pull down their pants to check for bruises—all without a warrant. These invasive visits occurred multiple times, along with numerous appearances in family court, where assumptions about her ability to care for her children shaped the way her case was handled. This left Ferguson humiliated, fearful, and trapped in a system that presumed her guilt rather than protecting her rights. 

In response, state and local organizations have begun mobilizing to address and minimize the disproportionate impact on families of color. ​​For example, Nassau County's ACS previously exhibited stark racial disparities, with Black children being 14 to 15 times more likely than white children to enter foster care in 2010. To combat this inequity, the county implemented a blind removal process. In this process, investigative staff present case details to a multidisciplinary committee of supervisors, managers, and an attorney without disclosing demographic identifiers such as names, race, ethnicity, or addresses. If the committee determines that removal is necessary, home-finding staff—who are privy to the family’s demographics and neighborhood information—immediately begin locating kinship or community-based placements. However, these staff do not participate in removal decisions, ensuring that the process remains impartial. After five years of implementing this process, the removal rate for Black children dropped from 5.5 per 1,000 in 2009 to less than 2.0 per 1,000 by 2019. This model offers a path toward a fairer system. 

Another solution suggested by New York State Assemblymember Andrew Hevesi involves the elimination of anonymous reporting, a practice that currently allows individuals to report suspected child abuse or neglect without revealing their identity. This measure is supported by advocates who argue that one parent often weaponizes the current system against the other in custody battles or by abusers seeking to maintain control in abusive relationships. Additional proposals include adding a secondary level of screening for calls to ensure the credibility of reports and eliminating criminal penalties for mandated reporters, such as teachers and doctors legally required to report abuse, who choose not to call the state registry to make a report. These measures aim to reduce unnecessary interventions while maintaining a focus on genuine cases of abuse or neglect.

Ultimately, New York City’s family policing system exposes a cycle of inequality and harm that undermines its mission to protect. True reform not only requires incremental changes but a fundamental reevaluation of how families of color are treated, prioritizing equity and genuine support. To prevent further harm to families like Curtis-Hackett’s and Ferguson’s, the root causes of family struggles need to be addressed in conjunction with the implementation of narrow reform efforts. Along with policy changes, the city should focus on community-based support systems that address underlying issues like poverty, housing instability, and limited access to mental health care. By focusing on prevention and equity, the system can actually work to support those it serves. True justice demands a child welfare system that protects families, not punishes them.

Sheza Sheikh (BC ’27) is a staff writer from Queens, New York, majoring in political science. She is interested in the intersections between business, law, and social justice. Sheza can be reached at ss7030@barnard.edu.