Feb 28 Silent Suffering: The Adultification and Parentification of Black Girls in Child Welfare

Feb 28h in Bold Voices by

(February 28, 2024)

This Bold Voices blog post was written by Ivory Bennett, a young woman who experienced 17 years in the child welfare system. Ivory is now an advocate for child welfare and education equity, and works for Fostering Media Connections. The Allies for Children team asked Ivory if she would be willing to share some of her thoughts and experiences about her time in the system. The following blog post was written by Ivory, in her own words. Please see the end of the post for Ivory’s full biography. Ivory has also kindly provided further resources on some of the topics she discusses.

We want to offer a trigger warning as you proceed – some of the topics covered in this post are intense and may be difficult for some readers.

If I had a mysterious ancient lamp with which I could rub and be granted three wishes, I would use one to eradicate the need for the child welfare system – in its place, I would create societies that value community in its institutional practices. Effortlessly, there would exist in these mystical utopians unlimited support for families, for parents, but most of all, for children.

And while fantastical imaginings have served me well and allowed me to creatively envision a beautiful, successful future and life for myself, in spite of countless adversities and seemingly insurmountable statistics and stereotypes, I do have access to something quite powerful, tangible, and dare I say it, magical – my words! I will use my words to educate and to advocate for the betterment of all children, especially those impacted by the child welfare system.

To be clear, it is not lost to me that many people who encounter my advocacy think my pedagogy is far too whimsical, far too impractical – to the cynical naysayers: look to the data of my life and find the credibility that your investment in white supremacy culture so desperately requires of you for validation.

One of my core beliefs is that child welfare should be proactive, rather than reactive. Proaction requires an historical understanding of the past, a detail-oriented, diverse understanding of the present, and a comprehensive, multifaceted approach to the future that plans for the well-being of children before, during, and after systems involvement.

I urge all public servants within the child welfare system to proactively protect black girls from adultification and parentification.

2023 was the second worst year of my life! Second only to the year I aged out of foster care as a student at the University of Pittsburgh. 2023 was the kind of year that completely defeats people – I called into question everything about myself, about my life. 2023 sucked immensely.

In January I found out that I would be laid off from a job with a great salary and nearly impossible benefits, such as unlimited PTO. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to secure a job with a similar or greater starting salary. I was also unwilling to compromise my mental and emotional health and well-being by going back into the classroom as an educator or as an administrator. In April, my maternal uncle, my father figure, died unexpectedly in a motorcycle crash. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle. He was supposed to hold my first born. Suddenly, he was gone forever.

I am well-versed in loss. I have very little artifacts from my childhood. I attended a dozen K-12 schools; 3rd grade was the first time I experienced an entire school year at the same school. Foster care and grief are inseparable. However, 17 years of child welfare experience did not prepare me for the loss of my Uncle Leslie. This grief ravaged my body – it made me physically weak. This grief catapulted me into depression and anxiety. This grief led me back to Pittsburgh. I needed my sisters – they are my soft landing space. My peers and my siblings have always been my biggest support systems. And I desperately needed them. They needed me, too.

At this point, you might be wondering, “well, what does this have to do with the adultification and parentification of black girls in foster care?”

I quickly realized that every single one of my sisters was healing from their experiences with adultification and parentification. I, too, was confronted with feeling and processing the enormity of my own lived experiences.

My first child welfare related memory happened at the age of 4, I was told that I needed to “take care of my baby sister.”

At the age of 7, I started cooking and cleaning for the entire household – a role I would maintain throughout my time in care. 7 was also the age when I was asked to have sex by an adult male – he wanted to “touch my private parts,” that is all I heard before I ran away. At 8, I had my first period and hid it from my mother. At 10, I grew c-cup breasts and was molested while watching Spongebob on the television. At 11, I hand-washed my clothes nightly for school and hung them in front of the vents with the hopes they would dry before morning. At 12, I was an overnight babysitter to infants and toddlers. At 13, I was a minister of dance and music and responsible for half a dozen youth.

At 14, I learned about health and fitness and lost 50 pounds on my own because I was fearful of developing Type 2 Diabetes. At 15, I became an English teacher and peer coach at a community-based organization. At 16, I was responsible for keeping myself alive and well with the development of Type 1 Diabetes (also known as Juvenile Diabetes), but not responsible enough to get my license because it inconvenienced my kinship caregiver. At 18, I was responsible for applying to, interviewing for, and accepting admission into college. And at 20, I was the power of attorney for my mother who fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck during my sophomore year of college – at 20 I had the power of life and death in my hands, while carrying 15-18 credits, while being a resident assistant (of a co-ed dorm floor – we had a suicide that year, by the way), while transitioning to insulin pump therapy, while being in a toxic relationship to an emotionally and financially abusive young man, while being a sister who was contacted by caseworkers to find her baby sister who had run away from congregate care, all while preparing to age out of foster care.

Adultification (noun): the process or fact of treating or considering a child as if they are an adult, usually in a way that is wrong or harmful.

Parentification is often referred to as growing up too fast. Typically, it occurs when a child takes on parental responsibility for their siblings or even their parents, taking care of a sibling or parent physically, mentally, or emotionally. This can damage a child’s mental well-being and lead to long-term mental health conditions such as depression and anxiety.

Black girls are often perceived and treated as adults. Frankly, people have been speaking to me as if I was a 57 year old woman my entire life. The adultification and parentification of black girls erodes their natural order of childhood development and progression – going from infancy to middle-age is abnormal, to say the least. Furthermore, the adultification and parentification of black girls positions them to be perceived as less innocent than their white peers. The consequences of such behavior results in more punitive parenting, schooling, and systems engagement. Again, perceiving black girls as adult women disrupts their holistic development. A reliance on the maturity of black girls perpetuates harm by allowing child welfare systems to underserve, neglect, abuse, and exploit black girls. Black girls deserve to be children before becoming parents, caregivers, homemakers, community leaders, or elders!

Historically, the United States of America has a long, sordid history of adultifying and parentifying black girls through systemic racism and oppression. In slavery, black toddlers were the caregivers and companions of their masters’ children. Young black girls were beaten, auctioned-off, raped and impregnated by adult men. Enslaved black girls were responsible for tilling the fields, cooking, cleaning, sewing, bearing, birthing, and raising children, amongst other developmentally inappropriate tasks. The USA is founded on the legacy of chattel slavery, which was devastatingly harmful to black girls who are still living with the impact of epigenetic trauma, cultural and communal degradation, and oppressive institutions, including but not limited to child welfare.

The implicit bias in child welfare systems affects the decision making processes involving black girls, which in turn perpetuates harmful stereotypes, fear-based practices, policies, and procedures, and inadequate services. In fact, black and brown children are disproportionately represented in child welfare – cultural competency training for child welfare practitioners with an emphasis on adultification and parentification are crucial when considering a restorative justice approach to the work of child welfare reform.

Black girls deserve restorative justice within the child welfare system. Training and education for vested stakeholders must be culturally competent. Lived experts are the leaders for spearheading proactive strategies to improve the experiences of those impacted by child welfare. Policy reform must call for changes that address systemic inequities and promote equitable treatment of black girls. Community engagement that emphasizes the importance of involving lived experts in the decision-making process: pay lived experts equitably, give them full benefits, and treat them with the respect they deserve. Lastly, comprehensive support services need to be accessible to black girls and their families to address trauma and promote healing.

This is a call to action for all child welfare professionals to be proactive about addressing and eradicating the systemic adultification and parentification of black girls in foster care. A restorative justice approach is necessary to dismantle the harmful stereotypes that plague black girls and to co-create systems of support that enable and sustain the well-being of black girls. The potential for positive change is unlimited when stakeholders work together to create a more equitable and just child welfare system.

 

Resources

Adultification

Parentification

Ivory Bennett’s pronouns are she, her, and hers. She is originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where she spent 17 years in foster care across three different counties (1 urban and 2 rural). She lived in about 10 different foster homes, in 4 kinship-care homes, and in 1 shelter. She attended around 12 different K-12 schools, as well.

Ivory has a Bachelor of Arts dual degree from The University of Pittsburgh in Africana Studies and English Literature with a minor in Theatre Arts (Performance). She also has a Master of Education Administration and is an aspiring Doctoral student.

Outside of work, Ivory has a strong commitment to foster care and education equity and advocacy. Aside from belonging to several education and child welfare organizations and boards, Ivory does a great deal of advocacy through writing and speaking, as well.

Ivory has a sincere passion for holistic health and well-being through a trauma-informed lens with a particular focus on epigenetic impact. Ivory also has Type 1 diabetes (also known as Juvenile Diabetes), a motivating factor for her overall commitment to holistic well-being.

On a fun note, Ivory loves to travel internationally, try new vegan dishes, and tend to her plants!