U.S. Children Are in Crisis—Relief Must be Permanent

ONE OF THE most most frustrating times as a parent was when one of my toddlers would begin to cry and I was in the next room. Of course, I would rush right over. But once I got there, I wasn’t sure whether they were sick or had bumped into the couch. Between the pain, early language development, and their weeping, it was hard to diagnose the situation. I relied on a question my toddler could answer by pointing: “Where does it hurt?”

As we—adults, parents, faith leaders, and communities—rush to enter a post-pandemic reality, we would do well to pause and ask young people how the last year and a half has impacted them. Patient listening may lead to prophetic grief. As the prophet Jeremiah reminds, “For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me” (8:21).

For 30 years, the Children’s Defense Fund (CDF) has plumbed the best available research to answer this question for young people: Where does it hurt? CDF’s “State of America’s Children” report, released this spring, analyzes this data and paints a picture of child well-being and our challenges ahead. The information makes clear that our children have not been immune to the crises of public health and racial injustice we have faced. As of February of this year, 13 percent of the COVID-19 cases in the U.S. were children. They are hurting physically, socially, emotionally, and economically.

Frankly, we were not meeting children’s needs before these crises. Black and brown children bore the brunt of our neglect. Children are the poorest age group in the country. Nearly 1 in 7 children live in poverty and nearly 71 percent of them are children of color. More than 1.5 million students in public schools experienced homelessness during the 2017-18 school year—but Black youth were 83 percent more likely than others to be unhoused. Nearly 11 million children live in homes without reliable access to sufficient and nutritious food. Black and Hispanic children are twice as likely to lack nourishment than their white playmates.

It’s enough to make us weep and mourn. But, as theologian Otis Moss Jr. argues when reading Jeremiah, “Prophetic grief is different from pathetic grief.” In prophetic grief, “we stand inside of the other’s wounds, and hurt, and blood, and tears, and sorrow, so deeply that it becomes our own. We ask others, ‘Where does it hurt?’”

The last year magnified longstanding inequities and pain. It also stirred empathy—the beginning of action. This empathy led Congress to expand the Child Tax Credit (CTC), the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, housing vouchers, and other emergency relief for families in March as part of the stimulus package. The increased investment in well-being could cut child poverty in the U.S. in half and must now be sustained for our youth and future.

As we feel the pain of our progeny, let us envision a nation where marginalized children flourish, leaders prioritize their well-being, and communities wield the power to ensure children thrive.

In this vision, the expanded CTC would be made permanent to ensure a guaranteed income for households raising children. Congress would expand housing vouchers and affordable housing for every family who needs it. Permanent, universal, free school meals would make access to nourishment possible so children can learn and grow. Imagine the smiles on children’s faces these changes would bring.

Change is possible now (and with this Congress) if people of faith will turn pathetic grief into prophetic grief. It begins by asking our children, “Where does it hurt?”