The Infamous "Black Bag" Story
The Housing Insecurity that Often Awaits Former Foster Youth
I entered the foster care system at age 9; shortly thereafter, I heard the “Black Bag” story for the first time. Over the course of my decade in the system, I would hear this story too many times to count, from social workers, foster parents, and foster siblings. For those who know me, I’ve talked about this story on several occasions (including in an interview with Bloomberg) for a very simple reason: it directly led to me enlisting in the United States Navy.
It is a simple tale. As a matter of fact, it could be told in a single sentence: when a foster kid turns 18 and graduates from high school (if they graduate high school), they return back from graduation to find that all their belongings had been stuffed into black bags and placed on the curb. In short, you’re out on your own, and Lord help you if you have nobody to call.
I thought little of it when I first heard it. To be frank, there were many more immediate horrors for me to worry about — group homes, abusive foster parents, placement instability, and many others — and the notion that I might be homeless one day, years into the future, wasn’t exactly a salient threat. But that changed as I started to see it happen to my fellow foster youth. It changed as I inched ever-closer to that “aging out” date. It changed as I began to grapple with the very limited housing options available to me after I emancipated from the system. I was told about these glitzy transitional housing units I could access — apartments, essentially, dedicated to former foster youth — but the people I knew that actually lived in these places painted a rather bleak picture of what went on there: rampant drug use, violence, thievery, among other horrors.
But, by enlisting in the United States Navy, I was able to avoid all that. Several foster youth — particularly those that aged out prior to 2012, when California implemented legislation that extended foster care to age 21 — weren’t so lucky. I know so many who ended up couch surfing at best or on the streets at worst. This newsletter is dedicated to them. It is a newsletter dedicated to the issue of homelessness and housing insecurity for young people whose only crime was being placed in the foster care system.
Let’s step back from the stories for a second and dive into the numbers.
A Well-Studied and Well-Known Crisis
Let’s kick this section off with the most relevant and the most damning statistic: 20% of foster youth become instantly homeless upon emancipating from the system. To put that number in perspective, approximately 18,538 foster youth emancipated from the system in 2022. Of these, roughly 3,707 youth aged out into immediate homelessness, according to the aforementioned stat. 3,700 young adults — constituting around 1% of all children in the system that year — kicked to the curb. For these kids, the Black Bag story isn’t a story at all, but a tragic reality.
However, the issue of homelessness doesn’t exist strictly amongst the recently emancipated: a landmark 2013 study found that between 31% and 46% of youth who age out of the foster care system experience homelessness at least once by age 26. For reference, only about 10% of Americans between the ages of 18 to 25 will experience homelessness at some point within a year. The fact that nearly a third (at minimum) of foster care alumni experience homelessness undercuts the notion that this system succeeds in protecting children and safeguarding their welfare.
Former foster youth not only face a heightened risk of homelessness, but when they do become homeless, they tend to experience it for a longer duration than their peers without a history of being in the system, averaging 27.5 months compared to 19.3 months. Really think about what this means: some folks experience 8 additional months of being homeless simply as a result of having been involved in the foster care system. That’s roughly 240 additional days of struggling to find a safe place to sleep, of contending with constant uncertainty, and of enduring the substantial physical and emotional toll of being without stability.
This compilation of statistics — among others — contributes to a gobsmacking reality: according to the National Foster Youth Institute (NYFI), 50% of the homeless population in the United States spent time in foster care. While the exact number of homelessness Americans is difficult to ascertain with any certainty, the Department of Housing and Urban Development conducted a point-in-time estimate and found that on a single night in 2022, roughly 582,500 people experienced homelessness. I am well-aware — via research and my own personal experience — of the monumental challenges that former foster youth confront as they age out of the system, but even I find it difficult to wrap my head around the fact nearly 300,000 homeless folks in America have touched the foster care system at some point in their lives.
Let’s now take a look at some of the causes of this crisis.
Forging the Foster Care-to-Homelessness Pipeline
Perhaps the most obvious contribution to this crisis is the fact that foster youth, in many instances, do not have robust networks of support as they transition to adulthood. By definition, foster youth have been removed from their families (in most cases), and families in the United States are a key source of support for young folks. Don’t just take it from me: according to the Pew Research Center, approximately 59% of parents with children ages 18 to 29 report giving their children a lot (29%) or some (30%) financial help. Foster youth don’t have that luxury. I know I didn’t.
When I was on the precipice of emancipation, my mother was incarcerated and my older brothers were in no position to take me in: one lived out of state, one was nowhere to be found, and one was shacked up in a rented room with his girlfriend and infant. Outside of them, I had nobody I could rely on, or at least that’s how I felt. My situation wasn’t exactly uncommon.
Even in the best of circumstances, transitioning into adulthood is challenging; absent these familial networks of support, it becomes infinitely more difficult. But a series of interlocking challenges are often layered atop this lack of support. Children in foster care, as I have written about in previous newsletters, are subjected to a range of difficulties relative to their non-relative peers. For example, foster youth experience significantly greater rates of sexual abuse compared to to the general population, are twice as likely as US combat veterans to struggle with PTSD, and for 17 and 18 year olds, are disproportionately likely to suffer from “lifetime and/or post year mental health disorders.”
These issues all have significant implications for homelessness. One academic, for example, interviewed 184 homeless former foster youth in Hollywood, California, and found that a significant number reported experiencing abuse in foster care, including physical, sexual, and verbal abuse. These findings are backed up by the results of another study, which found the following characteristics are associated with an increase in the relative risk of becoming homeless following emancipation:
Running away while in the foster care (“going AWOL”)
Greater placement instability (bouncing around from home to home)
Being male
Having a history of physical abuse
Engaging in delinquent behaviors
Having symptoms of a mental health disorder
This constellation of challenges along with a lack of familial support combine to form a highway to homelessness for former foster youth.
Pathways In and Out of Homelessness
To contextualize these statistics, I collected some stories (and received permission to share them) from a few former foster youth — friends and previous colleagues of mine — who experienced bouts of homelessness upon aging out. Their stories, I believe, show that even when you check all the right boxes, it is still exceptionally easy to slip through the cracks. All of them, I might add, had at some point heard the Black Bag story, or at least a variation of it.
Pedro — or “Pelon”, as he was called on the account of his buzz cut — was in the San Bernardino County foster care system for six years and aged out in 2013. His stint in the system was pretty conventional: a few moves and a dozen social workers, with parents who were out of the picture. But he was able to evade the harshest of outcomes, and upon emancipating from the system, moved to Bakersfield (about a three hour drive away) to be closer to his younger brother, who lived with his paternal grandparents. He had a plan: he had already enrolled at Bakersfield College and was going to crash on the couch of a friend until he could lock down his own spot. Things started off reasonably well — he got a job at AutoZone, nailed down a 3.0 GPA in his first semester (a significant improvement on his high school performance), and even bought a car using his financial aid. But then his friend moved, and Pedro was thrust into an unsolvable predicament: he didn’t have enough cash on hand to get an apartment of his own, but even if he did, he had no one to cosign for him (he had no official rental or credit history). He, then, ended up sleeping out of his car, persisting in school for several years and joining the approximately 20% of California community college students who experience homelessness each year. After several years of alternating between his car and various couches, he was finally able to find semi-permanent lodging in 2017, with the assistance of his college and a local non-profit.
Sharice had a rocky five year stint in the system, in Illinois. After living in a few abusive group homes, she ran away. She was apprehended, and then she ran away again. Eventually, she aged out. Having experienced nothing but harm from the system, she wanted nothing to do with it, so she said good riddance and never looked back. She moved in with a boyfriend. They had a volatile relationship, and their ups and downs corresponded with Sharice’s bouts of homelessness. Eventually, she’d spend a year on the streets, often alone. She struggled with substance abuse for a while, and lacked access to the medication she needed to address several of her health issues. Fortunately, her aunt found her on Facebook and paid for her to move a few states over, at her home in Ohio. Now 24, she’s doing quite well for herself, but the specter of homelessness forever haunts her. She feels as if she’s always one mistake away from returning to the streets.
Alysha’s journey oscillated between tentative hope and despair. Upon emancipating from the system, she moved into an apartment provided to her by the county she was raised in. She was grateful for this option and the independence it provided, but upon arrival, she discovered that this refuge left much to be desired. She experienced what I was forewarned about: a setting rife with violence, drug use, and hopelessness. Worse yet, she was located about an hour away from her community via public transit, a distance that eroded the social capital she was able to accumulate over the last few years. She worked at Walmart and took night classes for about a year before the situation at this facility got the best of her and she split. She moved in with her biological sister a few towns over, closer to where she went to high school. Before long, her sister’s landlord discovered another adult was living in his unit, and demanded that Alysha leave. She’d spend the next three years couch surfing and living out of a car until she earned an associate’s and got a job as a secretary in a law office. She’s doing fantastic now — living in a studio apartment with her boyfriend and their three-year old.
Finally, we have Devonte, from California. He aged out in 2017, went off to college, did terribly his first semester, and dropped out. He spent two months on the streets. He reached out to his former social worker, who promptly helped him get back on his feet. He got a part-time job at McDonald’s, enrolled at a local community college, and used a state-provided housing stipend to rent a room from an elderly couple near his school. Had he emancipated from the system in 1997 (or even 2007) rather than 2017, he might’ve never recovered after falling into homelessness, as the policy infrastructure wasn’t in place to facilitate a return to the system after leaving it.
Before continuing on to solutions, I want to make one brief point regarding the above stories. At least in California, there are a litany of resources available to former foster youth, and a few of the folks above were eligible to receive these resources yet did not. In these cases, the fault doesn’t lie with the system itself. Pedro, for example, states the following:
“I ain’t even know I had these options, you know? Like it ain’t even occur to me that I could tap into the system and get some help. I wasn’t from Bakersfield, I didn’t know that foster care benefits, like, come with you when you move to another county. I just thought I was on my own, or that I had to move back to Colton to get help.
Some might also question the decisions these folks made. Alysha, for example, has always fielded questions about her decision to leave the county-provided apartment. But some of these folks had few ‘good’ options available to them. What kind of choice is it, for example, to decide between staying in a place where one feels unsafe or risking housing insecurity by moving in with a loved one? However, even if one were to accept the premise that these decisions were bad, young folks make questionable decisions all time. When you're an alumni of the foster care system, the consequences of making a bad decision is amplified to a considerable degree, as there are fewer safeguards in place to catch you if this decision backfires.
All in all, these stories should illustrate the human dimension of this wickedly complex challenge.
Deconstructing the Foster Care-to-Homelessness Pipeline
In my opinion, this issue has had more energy dedicated to it than any other issue in the child welfare system. A recent explainer by the Bipartisan Policy Center provides an in-depth look at the litany of policies, programs, and initiatives in place that are designed to prevent foster youth from falling into homelessness. I highly recommend you check it out. Given how comprehensive this explainer is, there isn’t much I can add, but I figured I’d chip in and offer my two cents on what I believe can help reduce the risk and incidence of homelessness for former foster youth. Much of the below, I might add, are already in place in several states and localities.
Give Folks Cash!: A recent article in The Imprint highlights the efficacy of giving young people cash in preventing homelessness. It discusses the development of Direct Cash Transfer Plus (DCTP) pilot programs “that provides young adults ages 18 to 24 with no-strings-attached cash transfers over a 24-month period, with the aim of providing enough support to cover the cost of shared housing.” Imagine, for example, if Alysha was given cash to find her own lodging (which is the case with SILP in California)? She’d have the flexibility and autonomy necessary to track down housing that is right for her.
Give Folks A Place to Crash!: I know I have spoken of government-provided housing for former foster youth in rather harsh terms, but let me balance my critiques a bit. I have spoken with several people — across multiple states — who have lived in these types of housing and they’ve had wonderful experiences. The primary complaint I’ve heard from these folks is that occasionally these facilities are a bit far from their friends and former communities. Some lament the distance, and as we have seen, some would rather gamble on an increased risk of instability — by staying with a friend or partner — in order to be closer to the only people that care about them. To the extent possible, these housing options must be embedded in the existing communities where these foster youth live, which would go a long way in marrying the stability provided by housing with the support provided by their friends
Stop Telling the Black Bag Story!: We must change the narrative. Not only is it cruel to tell young foster children — particularly those likely to age out of the system — that homelessness is their destiny, it is also counterproductive. It engenders a sense of hopelessness in a system already devoid of hope. Let’s tell foster youth better stories, where they’ll be supported and loved as they navigate the transition into adulthood, and then work our damndest to ensure that this story becomes their reality.
Foster children are, collectively, our children, and each time one slips into homelessness should boil our blood and spur as to action. I’m grateful to all those work tirelessly to prevent this from happening — the social workers, advocates, policymakers, and organizations. There’s been so much progress made on this front, and let’s keep at so we can once and for all stuff this issue into its own black bag.
In conjunction with last week’s newsletter, I’ll conclude by saying the following: I look forward to building a system where homelessness is neither a cause of entry into foster care nor a consequence of being a foster kid.
Thank you so much for reading, and I will see y’all in August!
Current Read(s):
I’m currently reading a biography of Earl Warren, a former governor of California and former Chief Justice of the US Supreme Court. Warren has a towering legacy, as his court was responsible for some of the most transformative cases and decisions in US history, including but not limited to the following:
Brown v. Board of Education: Ruled racial segregation in public schools is unconstitutional.
Loving v. Virginia: Found that laws banning interracial marriage violated the Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.
Miranda v. Arizona: You’ve heard it on TV (or perhaps even in person): “You have the right to remain silent…” This case established that law enforcement must inform folks of their constitutional rights prior to interrogating them.
Gideon v. Wainwright: Requires states to provide attorneys to criminal defendants who are unable afford their own. Big deal for public defenders!
Griswold v. Connecticut: Found that Constitution protects a general right to privacy, with implications for contraceptive access.
I’m leaving a ton on the table, but all told, Warren’s fingerprints are all over some of the most important cases in US history.
What’s going on in the world of child welfare?:
Judge Seeks Input from 5,000 Oregon Foster Children as Lawsuit Presses to Improve Care (Oregon Live) — If you know anybody from Oregon with foster youth, spread the word: these kids have a chance to lend their voices to the effort to improve the system!
What Missouri’s Vulnerable Children Need — And What They Don’t (Missouri Independent) — An op-ed arguing against the subsidization of residential treatment facilities, which have been called “Warehouses of Neglect” by some.
U.S. House Lawmakers Unveil Child Welfare Legislation (National Association of Counties) — A component of this proposed legislation is very near and dear to my heart: providing families with the resources needed to address poverty-driven neglect. It’s a small step, but a step nonetheless.
New Zealand’s Inquiry Into Systemic Abuse Follows 2 Decades of Similar Probes Worldwide (Associated Press) — I’ve been doing a ton of reading on New Zealand as of late, and this article popped up in the process: a six-year inquiry found that hundreds of thousands of people experienced abuse or neglect while in state care between 1950 and 1999.
Cash Transfers: An Effective Way to Curb Youth Homelessness (The Imprint) — I touched on this a little earlier, but this op-ed argues that cash transfers can help reduce homelessness amongst young people.
Poor Black Kids Are Doing Better. Poor White Kids Are Doing Worse (The Atlantic) — A new study (co-authored by Raj Chetty, a giant in the field) found that Black families have seen tremendous gains economically over the last few decades, while white families have (largely) experienced the opposite.
First Nations in Canada Achieve Historic Settlement to Reform Child Welfare (The Imprint) — Some big changes are afoot north of the border, with Canada taking some steps in addressing at least some of the historic disparities experienced by Indigenous families.