The Fight for Neurodivergent Children’s Rights Runs Through the Juvenile Legal and Foster Systems
I have the honor of parenting two neurodivergent children – wonderful, unique, vibrant human beings. I learn so much from them daily. While raising them, I have seen how society must grow and stretch to be affirming, inclusive, and supportive of difference.
In our family, we talk a lot about unexpected behavior – how a tic or a meltdown might be perceived by others as erratic or scary. I’ve talked to my older child about managing verbal defiance to strangers, with a creeping fear of potential for police interaction who, as a white child, is more likely to be given the benefit of the doubt.
I bring this lens to my work at Juvenile Law Center. The children in the juvenile legal and foster systems, through over-policing and surveillance, are predominantly Black, Brown, Indigenous, poor, and/or disabled.
Through policies and practices, more neurodivergent and differently abled children are pulled in and punished at higher rates than their neuro- and developmentally typical peers. Often, this contact with police or the legal system originates when behaviors that are a part of their disability are misunderstood by system actors. Children – especially Black and Brown – with disabilities are more vulnerable to arrest, removal from their homes, and placement in facilities. A recent study found that over sixty percent of children in juvenile placement are neurodivergent. Schools with high police presence regularly refer autistic children and other children with disabilities to the juvenile system; for Black children, this occurs at twice the rate of their white peers.
Neurodivergent Black and Brown youth are physically assaulted by staff in these facilities at 120% the rate of their white, neurotypical peers. While youth incarceration is down overall nationally, disparities are getting even worse for Black neurodivergent children, who in addition to abuse experience a lack of supportive services for communication and mental health needs specific to their disability.
In the foster system, thousands of children with complex mental health and disability are thrust into the system because their families lack resources to meet their behavioral and mental health needs. Many parents turn to the foster system as a pathway to services and resources when they cannot access them through their health insurance or Medicaid/CHIP. With smarter policy and community investment, these needs could be addressed in children’s homes and communities. Parents are desperate for help and resources, but the reality is, once a child enters the system with a disability, they are less likely to come home than their neurotypical peers.
I empathize with these parents, having challenges accessing services despite excellent health insurance, access and information. I know firsthand what it is like to fight for your kid to get what they need – at school, in their community, and in social situations. Given how hard it is for me with the deck stacked in my favor, I am especially aware of all the barriers families with less privilege and access to resources face.
Even the ability to access a diagnosis for one’s child feels inequitable. I waited months and months for my kid’s autism screening and was finally given a last-minute appointment for the extensive six-hour testing when a cancellation arose. Though I could show up the next day, most working parents do not have that luxury and flexibility.
Our work to transform the juvenile legal and foster systems is inherently a fight for disability justice. We must create the political will to keep children with disabilities in their homes and communities with supportive resources and positive connections.
