Resilience, Not Dependence
From my longtime perch in rural Illinois as a journalist and community activist, I have observed that our well-intentioned, wide array of social programs may be fostering dependence rather than resilience in struggling households. If I am right, what can we do about it?
Overwhelmed by the depth of our Great Depression nearly a century ago, private charity has been steadily augmented, now largely supplanted, by federal government programs. Today, there are so many discrete programs that local, state, nonprofit agencies are falling all over one another in efforts to provide support to struggling families.
For example, just one local agency, out of many, offers 20 [check fact] separate programs aimed at alleviating poverty; the Tri-Counties Opportunities Council—a good group—offers (a partial listing) programs for foster grandparents, Head Start, health, housing, energy, scholarships, weatherization. The State of Illinois has [fact check] seven different social service agencies—all at different physical locations(!)—serving Peoria, a mid-size city.
I am not faulting any individual program, and I also want to help alleviate poverty. But how’re we doing at it? And what kind of poverty: Of money? Of spirit? Of capacity?
The most critical indicator, to my mind, is that of the persistent large gap in educational achievement between poor whites, blacks, browns with those higher up the income scale. This is pointed out glaringly in the 2019 report by Eric Hanushek and others for the National Bureau of economic Research. Hanushek makes it clear the gap has not been narrowed.
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There are at least four fundamental problems with American social policy as I see it:
The fragmentation of programs, noted above. Years ago, in the wake of Newt Gingrich’s welfare reforms of the mid-’90s, I volunteered with 11 single parents who were required to work or go to school in return for federal services. These young women lacked their own “wheels.” Going from agency to agency by bus took big chunks of their time.
We need “one-stop shopping” for the panoply of social services. This would also assist the discrete agencies in collaboration, or so one would hope.
Our focus is in the wrong place. Many programs are aimed at buttressing the opportunities for pre-kindergarten and older children, when the focus should be on the parent(s). If the parent succeeds at her (and his) job, the child is likely to do so as well. But too many single mothers I have observed lack parenting skills, skills that eroded as passed down from one generation to the next.
Ill-educated and generally without a strong, positive support network, these mothers fall behind and become lost in the stressful task of rearing children. Too many of these mothers use government programs to fulfill “wants” rather than needs. Stressed out, they often turn to drugs and alcohol for support.
These young mothers need parent coaching, savvy “abuelas” (skilled, often unrelated “grandmothers,” as in the movie “In the Heights”).
Government asks nothing in return for its largesse. Deep-down, most people are—or should be—uncomfortable receiving something for nothing. It diminishes them. Why not require parent coaching (call it child development, if you wish) in return for social program support?
Social programs lack incentives to succeed; indeed, the programs punish success, by pulling Medicaid and other supports as soon as a young mother gets a job. This makes it hard for a young mother to stabilize her financial situation, and makes the option of welfare appear more appealing than unrewarded efforts to get off it.
American social policy programs have proliferated like topsy. We need a major re-set, which will have to come from the president and our governors, as there will be great resistance from our multitudinous, self-protective agencies.
