“It’s Not a System of Care”: Black Youth’s Stories of Family Separation and Anti-Black Racism in Ontario’s Child Welfare System

Abstract

The Black family unit and community plays a critical role in Black youths’ self-development, cultural socialization, and ability to navigate the impacts of structural anti-Black racism embedded in Canadian society. However, Black families are at an increased risk of separation from their children in Ontario’s child welfare system. Utilizing anti-Black racism theory, this study investigates the narratives of 27 Black Caribbean youth in the Greater Toronto Area with lived experience in out-of-home care. Using a narrative inquiry as a methodological approach, the findings reveal that Black youth in out-of-home care experienced: (1) social, psychological, and cultural isolation; (2) the disregard of their hygiene and unique hair needs and; (3) a critical conscious awareness of anti-Black racism. Recommendations for practice, research, and policy are discussed to adequately respond to the needs of Black children and their families.

Plain language summary

Black youth’s stories of family separation and anti-Black racism in Ontario’s child welfare system

The Black family unit and community plays a critical role in Black youths’ self-development, cultural socialization, and ability to navigate the impacts of structural anti-Black racism embedded in Canadian society. However, Black families are at an increased risk of separation from their children in Ontario’s child welfare system. Utilizing anti-Black racism theory, this study investigates the stories of 27 Black Caribbean youth in the Greater Toronto Area with lived experience in group and/or foster care. The findings reveal that Black youth in in group and/or foster care experienced: 1) social, psychological, and cultural isolation; 2) the disregard of their hygiene and unique hair needs and; 3) a critical conscious awareness of anti-Black racism. Recommendations for practice, research, and policy are discussed to adequately respond to the needs of Black children and their families.

The history of Black communities in North America has demonstrated a legacy of perseverance, resilience, and resistance in the face of enslavement and structural anti-Black racism (Whitehead, 2018). Black communities continue to thrive in systems that place them at increased odds of psychological and emotional harm derived from historical and on-going structural violence and oppression (Mohamud et al., 2021; Whitehead, 2018). The survival of the Black community is in part due to the importance of the family unit, which in some cases spans beyond biological kin (Burton, 1993). The Black family unit has deep rooted historical significance that has enabled the survival of Black people during periods of enslavement as well as their current continued resilience (Gray & Nybell, 1990). Despite this, the preservation of the Black family unit remains under threat by the child welfare system, particularly in the United States and Canada (Clarke, 2012; Dettlaff et al., 2020).

In Canada, the child welfare system has the authority to intervene and apprehend a child when social workers believe they are unsafe and it is in their “best interest” to be placed in out-of-home care (OOHC) (Child, Youth and Family Services Act, 2017). Removing a child from their family and placing them in OOHC is considered one of the most intrusive interventions by the child welfare system (Gharabaghi et al., 2016). OOHC placements can include foster homes, group homes, or treatment centers, where young people may stay on a short or long-term basis until it is deemed safe for them to return home.

Once in contact with the child welfare system, Black families often do not fare well—particularly in OOHC (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021; Evangelist et al., 2023; Merritt, 2020; Mohamud et al., 2021). The shortcomings of Ontario’s child welfare system in the lives of Black families have been documented for years in Canada. In 2018, Black youth (ages 0–15) were overrepresented in Ontario’s child welfare system as they represented 7% of the child population, but accounted for nearly 14% of all child maltreatment investigations (Bonnie et al., 2022). During this period, Black youth were more than twice as likely to be investigated for child protection concerns when compared to white youth. Once investigated, these racial disparities continued for Black youth across the child welfare continuum as they were 16% more likely to be substantiated for child maltreatment, 15% more likely to be placed in OOHC during the investigation stage, but 21% less likely to be transferred to ongoing services (Bonnie et al., 2022). Although only 3% of Black children and youth in Ontario are placed in OOHC (Bonnie et al., 2022), research exploring their experiences and outcomes has unveiled concerns about anti-Black racism in the form of unjust scrutiny, pathologizing, oversurveillance, criminalization, and the invalidation of Black caregivers’ ability to parent (Edwards, Brisbane, et al., 2023; Edwards, Chowdhury, et al., 2023; Edwards, King, et al., 2023; Edwards, Laylor, et al., 2023; Mohamud et al., 2021). Anti-Black racism not only impacts the caregivers’, but also has lasting impacts for Black youth who are taken into state care as it limits contact with their biological families which is associated with longer stays in OOHC (McWey & Cui, 2021).

As a protective factor to support Black youth navigating structural forms of anti-Black racism, cultural socialization is crucial in fostering positive self-worth and pride (Dove & Powers, 2018). Cultural socialization refers to the passing of generational knowledge related to one’s ethnic and racial heritage, typically transmitted from caregivers to their children (Hughes et al., 2006). However, research in Ontario reveals that Black youth in OOHC are often disconnected from their families, traditions, and cultural practices, and lack adequate access to culturally relevant hygienic products and meals (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021; Our HairStory, 2019). Moreover, Black youth have expressed experiencing a “whitewashing” that restricted their positive Black self-expression, leading to feelings of identity confusion (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021).

Existing literature in Ontario lacks an in-depth examination of the impacts cultural loss has on Black youth in OOHC, particularly, as it relates to their familial, community, and cultural connections (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021). This study seeks to fill this gap in knowledge and build on previous studies by empirically exploring the narratives of Black youth navigating OOHC (Our HairStory, 2019). The research questions that guided this study are: (1) How do family separation and placement in OOHC impact Black youths’ sense of self and cultural identity? and (2) How does anti-Black racism shape Black youth’s experiences navigating Ontario’s child welfare system?

Literature Review

The Impacts of Family Separation and Child Apprehension

Research investigating the impacts of child apprehension on families primarily focuses on the experiences of separation between mothers and their children and between siblings (Font & Kim, 2022; Thumath et al., 2021; Wojciak et al., 2023). Child apprehension has been found to have devastating and life-threatening impacts on mothers such as an increased likelihood of suicide attempts and mental health related hospitalizations (Thumath et al., 2021). Mothers who have had their child(ren) apprehended reported feeling their distress was largely ignored by child welfare workers and that they were left without support (Marquis, 2017). These finding were echoed by former youth in care who reported feeling that better action could have been taken by child welfare authorities to support their parents, rather than utilizing apprehension as a first resort (Taussig & Munson, 2022).

Research has also demonstrated that there are detrimental impacts to siblings who are separated in OOHC, and yet they are often not placed together (Leathers, 2005; Schwenke et al., 2006). Sibling separation has been associated with strained sibling relationships, long-term mental health impacts, increased risk of criminal behavior, and lower school achievement (Novak & Benedini, 2020; Wojciak et al., 2023). While there is currently an absence of literature focused specifically on Black sibling relationships in care, Font and Kim (2022) argue that sibling separation may have unique impacts on Black youth given they are more likely to stay in OOHC longer and be placed in transracial placements that do not meet their cultural needs.

Experiences and Outcomes of Black Youth Navigating Ontario’s Child Welfare System

Although there are instances where the child protection system may be helpful to families, research has consistently documented the shortcomings of Ontario’s child welfare system to adequately support Black families (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021; Clarke, 2012; Edwards, Chowdhury, et al., 2023; Edwards, King, et al., 2023). Black families have described how navigating the child welfare system can at times be traumatizing and unhelpful, leading them to question the necessity of OOHC as an intervention (Clarke, 2011; Taussig & Munson, 2022). For example, Black youth in OOHC reported experiencing placement and worker instability, instances of cultural loss, barriers to connecting with their biological families and communities, obstructions to their educational participation, as well as a lack of support that often extended to their transition from OOHC (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021; Edwards, Brisbane, et al., 2023; Edwards, King, et al., 2023; Taussig & Munson, 2022).

Transracial Placements for Black Youth

Transracial placements refer to the placement of young people in OOHC with caregivers whose racial and cultural backgrounds are different from their own (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021). Due to the lack of diversity among caregivers and the limited availability of foster homes, transracial placements often result in Black children being placed with white caregivers. Although transracial placements are not unique to Black youth in OOHC, they pose one of the most significant threats to Black youths’ cultural connections and positive identity development; these placements are also associated with increased externalizing behaviors among Black youth (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021; Jewell et al., 2010). While the full impacts of cultural loss on Black youth in OOHC are not yet known, some research suggests that placing Black youth with Black caregivers may act as a protective factor against cultural loss as they described a sense of familiarity with the environment, having their hygienic and cultural needs met, and receiving support navigating structural and interpersonal forms of anti-Black racism (Akuoko-Barfi et al., 2021; White et al., 2008).

Theoretical Framework: Anti-Black Racism Theory

The state-authorized involuntary separation of Black families dates back to the enslavement of people of African descent as early as the 17th century (Pargas, 2009). During this time, Black families were subjected to the continued denial and devaluation of their right to autonomy. Black families’ encounters with the modern child welfare system can also be understood as deeply rooted in Canadian legacies of anti-Black racism (Adjei & Minka, 2018; Phillips & Pon, 2018). Anti-Black racism refers to a specific form of systemic oppression directed at people of African descent that permeates all aspects of society (Mohamud et al., 2021; Sefa Dei & Rutherford, 2022). Anti-Black racism is perpetuated through white supremacy and capitalism, which are maintained through anti-Black policies, practices, and procedures within Canadian institutions, including the child welfare system (Edwards, McManamna et al., 2023; Sefa Dei & Rutherford, 2022).

Interpreted through a critical race perspective, anti-Black racism shapes individuals’ and families’ lived experiences while at the same time, anti-Black racism as a theory serves as a critical tool to better understand these experiences (Sefa Dei & Rutherford, 2022). Anti-Black racism rests on false notions of racial hierarchies and the attribution of negative stereotypes and tropes to people of African descent. In order to uphold the values of the white setter nation state in Canada, anti-Black racism functions to deny Black communities’ full access to an equitable quality of life while simultaneously ignoring and whitewashing its impacts (Sefa Dei & Rutherford, 2022). This in turn often leaves some Black families in poor socioeconomic conditions and subjected to oversurveillance when interacting within institutions such as the education, health care, and legal systems, which increases their vulnerability to child welfare involvement (Mohamud et al., 2021). In this context, anti-Black racism theory supports the conceptualization and understanding of Black families’ interactions and separation by Ontario’s child welfare system as a symptom of state violence (Dettlaff et al., 2023).

Methods

Sample

This study draws on data collected as part of the Rights for Children and Youth Partnership Project, from July 2018 to January 2020. Data used in this study consist of 27 in-depth interviews with youth aged 16 to 26 that self-identified as Black Caribbean (i.e., Guyanese, Jamaican, St. Lucian, St. Vincentian, and Trinidadian) living in OOHC across Greater Toronto Area. In-depth qualitative interviews lasted approximately 60 min and took place in spaces where young people identified being comfortable (e.g., park, library, or a local university). Seven of the 27 participants in this study identified as members of the LGBTQ+ community, 17 identified as female, and 10 identified as male. The research team received approval from Toronto Metropolitan University Research Ethics Board under protocol #2016-295-1.

This study utilized two sampling methods. The lead author first used a purposeful sampling method that relied on his existing social networks. A snowball sampling method was then used, relying on the social networks of the youth identified during the purposeful sampling stage. The youth were willing to share information about the program via “word of mouth” and distribute the project’s promotional materials among their peers. Youth interested in the study were provided additional information about the project before making an informed decision regarding their participation.

Data Analysis

This study utilized a narrative inquiry approach. Narrative inquiry is grounded in the storytelling process and invokes an informal approach to interviewing (Fraser, 2004). Intentionally engaging with youth in an informal relational approach enabled connections to be fostered, mitigating power imbalances between the researcher and youth. All interviews were audio-recorded and later transcribed. Typographical errors and all identifying information related to participants were omitted to enhance clarity and confidentiality. All names within this article are pseudonyms. NVivo 12 software was used to manage the organization and analyses of collected data. As part of the analytical process, coding in NVivo supported the management and display of emerging phenomena in the data (Coffey & Atkinson, 1996). The lead author listened to participants’ interview audio recordings throughout the coding process to be grounded in the youths’ narratives (Fraser, 2004). The narratives of Black youth inductively revealed the impacts of family separation for Black youth in OOHC, which were thematically organized for the purpose of this article.

Findings

Theme 1: “I Couldn’t See My Mom”: The Impacts of Familial Separation and OOHC Placement on Cultural Identity, Family, and Community Connections

Many Black youth explained that entering OOHC was plagued by uncertainty, with most being unable to remember or being unaware of the reason(s) they were separated from their family. Dave narrated his experience being brought into OOHC by mending together fragments of information and memories from his adopted family. Through this information, he recounted that the orchestration of his apprehension and eventual adoption failed to consider his voice, family, and the preservation of his Black culture and heritage:

From my memory, [I have no recollection of what happened regarding my placement] and because of this I [rely on] this letter [or the memories of my adopted family]. My first foster home was abusive. The foster [parents were two white adults who] had two sons, while fostering me, my brother, and a young Black girl — we were all treated markedly different, which I remember to this day. [My workers interpreted this] as [me being] happy to be placed with my adopted family, but looking back I was happy to be placed somewhere I wasn’t being abused. There wasn’t an understanding or care about racism from child welfare at the time. There was no ‘hey do you understand that you’re going to be placed in the whitest of white places and have no access to your community? Do you understand that you’ll never be able to engage with your birth family’, which is interesting because they did tell my [adoptive parents] that at the age of 16 they could try to reunify me with my [biological family]? I wouldn’t say there was an agenda against placing me with Black people, but there was no level of care or communication put into that. (Dave)

Many Black youth described how being removed from their communities impacted their ability to connect with their families. Alexia shared “I chose to not leave the house because [my parents’ house] was pretty far.” Similarly, Luther recalled his experience moving walking distance from his biological brother, to moving far away and living with a white family where he experienced a completely different culture. This culture shock impacted his mental wellbeing and in part led to his internal challenges being externalized in school, which he was punished for. Luther explained:

I lived walking distance from [my parents] house so I still got to see my brother once in a while. But, now I’m back with a white family and it’s hard. I’m in a situation where the culture’s different and I’m still going through all this stuff with my emotions and getting in trouble at school. (Luther)

Many Black youth in this study also described transracial placements as being unsupportive of their development of a positive Black identity, leading to cultural disconnection. Luther shared that the cultural disconnection he experiences living in OOHC led to challenges finding a sense of belonging when interacting and relating with his Black Jamaican peers who had strong connections to their ethnic identity:

So now I’m going to this school, where [there are] a lot of Black students. I feel a lot more at home, but I’m culture shocked because I’m not use to having that many Jamaican families around me. A lot of these kids were in touch with their Jamaican roots and looking at me like why am I not, not realizing that I lived with so many white families that I haven’t had a chance to anchor myself down. The hardest part was trying to make friends with people at [school], because now at this point, I’m skateboarding to a [school] where everyone plays soccer, basketball, and football. So, when I come with the [skateboard], “they’re like bro, what are you doing? You’re a Black man”. That’s when I started getting into basketball. (Luther)

Participants described living in remote white placements increased their vulnerability to anti-Black bullying and loneliness. Dave recalled instances where he experienced anti-Black racism at school that left him feeling emotionally exhausted and isolated:

I was experiencing racist shit from other kids that my parents didn’t know how to address. It was this colour blindness of “you’re in the family” blah blah blah. I’m growing up in this white ass town experiencing these trash ass white kids who are racist and homophobic as fuck. Even in high school, kids [would write] nigger in my locker and textbooks, or called me “big nig” and “a piece of dirt” consistently for no apparent reason. At some points my parents listened and believed me, but overreacted and went to the teacher not realizing the impact that would have on me. Or [they would] say that I’m the problem, and didn’t know how to get along [with others]. But no, we just live in a racist town and there’s no Black people to support me. That wasn’t my perspective at the time, but looking back it was very isolating and emotionally exhausting. (Dave)

When asked to describe his overall experience in OOHC, Brandon described it as an unbearably terrible experience filled with instability and loss of connection with his mother:

It was hell. Even though there was puppy love with girlfriends, just moving around a lot fucked me up, it sucked. I’d have to fucking leave friends and people I was comfortable with and they were telling me that I couldn’t see my mom — it was just garbage. (Brandon)

Participants in this study narrated their experiences of family separation and living in OOHC was shaped by the loss of culture, identity, peers, family, and community connections. Black youth also experiences limited access to support networks, such as Black peers and role models, which impacted their sense of self and ethnic identity. Even when Black youth were able to make connections in their new placement environments they reported being disconnected, separated, and/or ostracized from these networks. The stories of participants highlight how the child welfare system places Black youth in environments that are socially, physically, psychologically, and culturally isolating. Evident in this study’s findings is that the loss associated with family separation for Black youth has far reaching impacts that extend beyond the family unit, spilling over into their interactions with systems, institutions, and people both within and outside their community. The inability of Ontario’s child welfare system to maintain Black youths’ cultural and familial connections suggests that once taken into OOHC, Black youth are not afforded the opportunity to engage in restorative practices to cope with the multiple losses associated with family separation. Black youth are instead left to grieve in isolation, which at times manifested as externalized behaviors that were often misinterpreted as warranting punishment.

Theme 2: “My Hair is a Part of My Story”: The Significance of Black Hair, Body, and Familial Connections

A notable example of the child welfare system’s failure to meet the cultural needs of Black youth in OOHC rests in the lack of access to appropriate hair care and hygiene products. Many Black youth in this study shared having minimal to no access to appropriate hair care resources, resulting in the deterioration of their overall hygiene. Tash recounted how she and her siblings were denied access to culturally relevant hair products, a balanced diet, and were not taught appropriate hygiene practices:

It was terrible. The house was fine, but the conditions they kept us in were dirty. The kitchen was disgusting. Our diet was bad, we had pop, fattening food, and TV dinners because they wouldn’t cook. There was food everywhere, everything was getting moldy, we weren’t showering at all, and our hair was not being taken care of. We’re Black with thick curly hair. I’m 7 and my sister is 5, what do you expect us to do? We didn’t know how to do our hair, so we ended up getting lice. Our hair would only get done once a month and same with the showering situation. My worker told us we have to start lotioning our skin, but they weren’t teaching us, but you know, they’re white and they don’t lotion their own skin. (Tash)

The lack of consideration and access to culturally appropriate hair care, food, and hygiene support for Black youth in care exposes the neglect and failure to create Black-affirming spaces that are responsive to their needs. For example, Marsha described the disempowering effects that a lack of access to culturally appropriate hair care had on her life:

My hair is a part of my story and I had no one to do my hair — I hated that no one cared. They were putting me in a place where they didn’t even know [how to take care of me]. They are not aware of other [cultures]. (Marsha)

Similarly, when Luther was asked to elaborate on his experiences being placed with a white family he expressed there were cultural differences related to hygiene practices that led to clashes between his white caregivers and his mother’s conceptualization of care:

My mom bathed us every day and used a specific shampoo and conditioner for our hair. The [white caregivers] don’t really know how to deal with Black hair so it was often nappy and out. We had braids and you know how kids are; eventually we’re going to take out our braids because we’re annoyed with them. So now I’m going to school and visits with my mom with my hair [undone] and she’s like “you don’t look presentable, why is your hair all out like that?” So now there’s friction with my mom [and them because she] thinks I’m not getting taken care of properly. (Luther)

When discussing how Black youth would care for their hair Tash explained that: “normally [or I] would go on a visit and my mom [or I would] do my hair. Me or my mom would always have to buy the products with our own money” (Tash). Similarly for Brea, the dismissal of her hygienic needs by her worker and foster parent led her to rely on her sister to obtain culturally appropriate hygiene products:

It’s crazy . . . she’s buying pads, conditioner, and stuff from the dollar store. I’m not wearing it. You have the money and the budget to buy it. My friend will use it because she’s white, but my hair is coarse. The thing is [the foster mom] would always go to the hairdresser and get her hair nicely pressed. The foster mom [is Black] so you’re thinking “hey me and you have the same texture hair you need to buy me some good stuff” but no–I get dollar store hair conditioner. That was a problem for me so my sister was buying my shampoo conditioner and feminine products. Stuff that was [my foster mother’s] job to provide. Cheap! [The social worker] said [to me] “it’s not about the [brand]. You’re not allergic, so what’s the problem?” (Brea)

The dismissal of the hair needs of Black youth by workers and foster parents illustrates how having the capability to meet culturally specific needs does not automatically translate to responsive care—emphasizing the importance of including Black families in their children’s lives. Black youth reported a lack of access to hair and skin care products, culturally specific foods, quality feminine hygiene products, and a lack of guidance in maintaining routine hygiene practices. In instances where the system failed to meet their needs, Black youth relied on their families for access to appropriate hair care and hygienic products. The reliance on Black youth’s biological families for appropriate care outlines a significant paradox in their OOHC experiences. This paradox is revealed where Black youth are taken into OOHC under the pretense that the child welfare system is better equipped than their families to meet their needs; however, the system then leaves Black youths’ families to meet their needs where they failed to do so. In this context, Black families’ presence and ability to meet the needs of their children are acts of resistance, resilience, and radical Black love.

The ability to care for Black hair is an important aspect of Black pride, culture, and identity development. Concerns related to the inability of Black youth to maintain a healthy hair care routine and style their hair as desired goes beyond both hygienic and esthetic reasoning. Black hair is an integral part of the Black identity that is surrounded by both positive and negative narratives (Dove & Powers, 2018). Knowledge related to caring for Black hair is transmitted culturally beginning in childhood through Black parents, adults, peers, role models, and other community members. Black hair care is thus a life skill developed and nurtured through Black cultural connections. For most Black youth in OOHC, particularly those placed in predominantly white spaces, the transmission of hair care knowledge is disrupted as they are separated from their families with limited access to Black community members. However, is it important to acknowledge Black foster parents can also reproduce harm and deny Black youth their rights to appropriate hygienic care. This is underpinned by the fact they are being “cheap” or are in it for the money and not necessarily for the care or betterment of Black youth; this calls into question the ability of the system to engage Black children and youth in OOHC in the cultural socialization necessary to support the development of a positive sense of self and identity.

Theme 3: “It’s Not a System of Care. It’s a System of Constraint and Devaluation”: Black Youths’ Conscious Awareness of Anti-Back Racism in Ontario’s Child Welfare System

The narratives of Black youth throughout highlight the endemic nature of anti-Black racism in OOHC. They expressed being constrained during their time in care, which sometimes felt like being in prison. When asked about his overall experience in child welfare, Dave described Ontario’s OOHC system as:

An anti-Black, dehumanizing, undignifying, tumultuous, conflictual disaster. It’s not a system of care, it’s a system of constraint and devaluation that’s meant to contain and control. It is not a system that is meant to support, just as we say we exist in a colonial state, it is a system that was designed by white women to curate their control over poor white and Indigenous families. This is where our system starts from, brings us today, and will bring us forward. I’m a child welfare abolitionist, the child welfare system is just as incarcerating as the prison system. When you have Black and Indigenous people articulating fleeing and freedom when it comes to child welfare, it is so similar to prison that it’s not a system that requires reform, which is not going to bring us liberation. (Dave)

While reflecting on his experience growing up in a white adoptive family, Dave described the lack of care he received and becoming conscious of anti-Blackness in OOHC, which led him to confront his adoptive parents:

Being a bi-racial light skinned Black person, I needed some correction on my whole self, but I did that and continue to do that work. [This] caused tension with my adoptive family because I understood that I was Black and that a lot of things happened [because] they did not want to [recognize] they were anti-Black. So, I was honest with them and said, “you had no right to raise me and CAS should have never placed me with you”. (Dave)

When Black youth are separated from their families, their immersion in cultural values and practices critical for their ability to navigate anti-Black racism are severed. Marquez shared that his case worker’s treatment toward him was drastically different from his white peers:

My landlord got vexed and gave me a one-month notice before he was going to kick me out the crib. I was struggling at the time and I’m like “fuck, I’m about to be homeless.” So, I call [worker], [saying] “I’m getting kicked out the crib so I’m going to need help with housing”. When you’re in care it’s a little bit easier to get one-bedroom housing based off of your income. I was begging her to help me get that shit done. I know a [youth] and we had the same worker and the [worker] was helping them get their [housing]. All these white kids get the best stuff and their shit done. But us Black kids don’t get shit. I wouldn’t have known none of this if my white homie didn’t show me. We got the same worker, and we’re complaining about the same problems, but when he needs food, his fridge is full. (Marquez)

Black youths’ narratives of living in OOHC are immersed in reports of experiencing anti-Black racism from caregivers, workers, peers, and the surrounding local community. The absence of a strong family connection left Black youth to navigate the anti-Black landscape of OOHC on their own. Reports of racial bias and disempowering experiences from child welfare workers illuminates the multi-level failures within the system. However, Black youth were not passive agents in OOHC and challenged the narratives that surrounded their childhood in order to reconnect with a positive sense of self.

Discussion

Black youths narratives reveal how family separation is shaped by a larger colonial history of anti-Black racism, which negatively impacts their sense of self and cultural identity, and severs connections with their peers, family, and wider community. During enslavement, Black families experienced involuntary family separation and a restriction of their autonomy, particularly as it related to caring for their children (Gray & Nybell, 1990). Although slavery was abolished in 1834 (Winks, 2021), Black families who encounter the modern child welfare system continue to face the threat and reality of family separation, oversurveillance, and a lack of control over their families—leading to heightened experiences of distress and fear (Evangelist et al., 2023; Merritt, 2020). In this context, family separation is understood as the physical separation of children from their parents and the severing of psychological, social, and cultural ties from their biological families and communities.

The goal of the child welfare system is to promote the protection, wellbeing, and best interest of children, but paradoxically for Black families, it recreates historical trauma and conditions where many Black children are neglected and poorly cared for (Edwards, King, et al., 2023). This paradox is demonstrated when the child welfare system removes Black youth from their loved ones and places them in unfamiliar, unhygienic, and anti-Black environments (Edwards, McManamna et al., 2023). The act of removing Black youth from spaces of familiarity and placing them in communities with minimal Black representation socially and culturally ostracizes them and facilitates the erasure of their Black identity (Dove & Powers, 2018).

Community and familial relationships, connections, and resources have historical significance in African traditions as a central protective factor for Black youths development, serving as a defense against anti-Black racism (Dove & Powers, 2018; Fairfax, 2017; Whitehead, 2018). Parents and Black community members pass forward cultural forms of knowledge that are critical to Black children and youths understanding of their heritage, values, and traditions. These values form the basis of Black cultural pride and resilience in the face of anti-Black racism. Given cultural connections are critical for Black youth, the longer they are separated from their family and community, the more likely they are to experience the impacts of cultural loss (Dove & Powers, 2018). Thus, to deny Black youth access to Black communities and their resources, is to deny them of their culture and humanity, increasing their vulnerability to structural, institutional, an interpersonal forms anti-Black racism (Mohamud et al., 2021). This denial leaves Black youth increasingly vulnerable to racial stress that can manifest through an array of trauma symptoms, including decreased cultural pride (Saleem et al., 2020). However, Black youth in this study that became aware of anti-Black racism while in OOHC made the journey to unindoctrinate themselves and reconnect with a positive sense of Black identity.

Black youth within this study also reported having limited access to Black specific hair and skin care products, as well as culturally relevant nutritional foods. While the child welfare system fails to meet the needs of Black youth, Black families did not idly stand by. In these instances, Black families provided their children/sibling with the hair products and services that they would otherwise not have access to. The role that biological families have in facilitating access to culturally relevant hair care products and services highlights the importance of maintaining family connections for youth living in OOHC as a protective factor against cultural loss. It is important to note that the significance of Black hair, body, and familial connections goes beyond hygienic concerns (Essien & Wood, 2021). Historically, Black hair care dates back to pre-colonial African history, where hairstyles were used to express one’s identity and social status (Byrd & Thraps, 2014). However, during periods of enslavement, people of African descent were denied their autonomy, leading to a denial of access to their hair care resources, the right to take care of their hair, and often had their heads forcibly shaved in an effort to strip them of their identities (Byrd & Thraps, 2014). Since the end of the enslavement era, Black populations have been on a collective journey to reimagine what it means to be Black with hair as an important form of expression, as it is one of the most symbolic and phenotypical identifiers of the Black identity (Byrd & Thraps, 2014). In this context, denying Black youth the right to care for their hair as desired not only promotes a culture of anti-Blackness, but also undermines Black youths’ ability to nurture a positive self-view and identity. This is particularly true for many Black youth placed in the care of white adults, as they often do not have the cultural knowledge to support Black youth in their hair care journeys and development of a Black identity (Dove & Powers, 2018). Moreover, research indicates that Black girls in foster care often struggle with accepting and caring for their hair (Dove & Powers, 2018). Failing to critically consider and respond to Black youths’ unique hair needs reproduces colonial logic and anti-Black racism, which seek control over the Black body and the suppression of the Black identity.

Recommendations

Based on the collective narratives of the Back youth in this study, the following recommendations for practice, research, and policy are ideal: (1) Intentional effort must be put into increasing the recruitment of Black foster parents; (2) Black youth should be placed with foster parents of similar cultural identities; (3) Whenever possible, Black youth should be placed within or in close proximity to their community of origin; (4) Black youth should be given a prognosis of what they can expect to experience in a transracial placement and be provided with support; (5) Child welfare workers need to be educated on the unique care needs of Black youth; (6) Child welfare workers should encourage and support biological families in having an active and clear role in Black youths plan of care; (7) Child welfare workers should identify what individuals are part of Black youths’ pre-existing social networks and maintain these relationships; and (8) Consider alternative interventions for family separation such as shared family care (SFC) where children are placed in OOHC with their parents (Barth et al., 2023).

Strengths and Limitations

This research study has several strengths and limitations that should be considered. A noteworthy strength of this study is that it is one of the first studies that investigates the narratives of Black youth navigating Ontario’s child welfare system and the impacts of family separation on their wellbeing. A limitation of this study is the sample size is relatively small and not generalizable to all Black youth across child welfare contexts. Also, this study did not capture the perspectives of parents, child welfare workers, and other professionals who may have worked alongside Black youth.

Conclusion

Throughout the enslavement period, Black families faced systemic oppression, violence, and the loss of autonomy over their children. Currently, the child welfare system continues to reproduce the colonial legacy of family separation with Black families. Findings from this study suggest that the increased involvement of Black youth’s biological families and communities in the provision of their care—when appropriate—may support in reducing the risk of cultural loss. It is imperative that the voices of Black youth and their families are heard and included in decision making, particularly as these families step in to address the shortcomings of the child welfare system. Black youth deserve to engage freely in their culture, access culturally relevant resources, and find belonging with family and community. For child welfare to better support the best interest of Black youth their interventions must be reimagined. While limited, some research has suggested that SFC may be an effective alternative to child apprehension and family separation, future research should investigate its impacts for Black families to better understand how risks related to family separation can be better mitigated.