It’s Time to Put Real Support into Supportive Housing for Foster Youth
Youth aging out of the foster care system in New York City receive meager and only conditional support during their transition into adulthood. Building off of personal experience, here is my take on the values that should govern urgent reforms to these services.
When most high school students dream about their freshman year of college, they imagine a spotless dorm room full of their personal effects, symbolic of their new, independent life. For me, the reality was much different when I was at this stage in life. Although I was out on my own, my living situation was far from ideal. Instead of a comfortable shower, I had water that I could not consistently count on to get warm. Rather than eating in a clean dining hall, I had to contend with roaches and rodents rummaging through my food. And in the place of friendly, collegial common spaces, my building featured unsafe conditions where my packages were constantly stolen. But I am not unique. Everyday, thousands of youth who have aged out of the foster care system face similar challenges in securing the most basic of needs: an adequate place to live.
The former foster youth who do secure supportive housing must contend with poor housing choices, often in badly maintained buildings and dangerous, resource-limited neighborhoods.
While the conditions above may sound like they describe a unit in a slumlord’s flophouse, they actually describe my “home” in city-provided housing when I was 19. Like me, thousands of young people between the ages of 18 and 24, who are supposed to be embarking on one of the most exciting phases of their lives as they transition out of foster care and onto independent living as a young adult, live in substandard housing. By law, foster youth in New York City are required to be provided with all of the essential support and services normally provided by a parent. Recognizing that significant obstacles exist for foster youth who age out of care at 18, New York City provides some opportunities for youth to secure supportive housing, which offers a combination of housing and social services intended as a cost-effective way to help people live more stable and productive lives. Yet too often, the former foster youth who do secure supportive housing must contend with poor housing choices, often in badly maintained buildings and dangerous, resource-limited neighborhoods.
What Does New York City Owe Transitioning Foster Youth?
As mentioned above, New York City has obligations to foster youth as their official guardians, even beyond the age of 18. But which entity owes what, and under which circumstances, is a patchy and messy business. Here I’ll gloss the status quo in the legal rights owed to transitioning foster youth—as meager as those rights may be.
In New York City, youth in foster care are in the custody of the Commissioner of the Administration for Children’s Services (ACS) as soon as they officially enter the foster system. Until the age of 18, this means that ACS owes them comprehensive care, including safe housing, proper nutrition, access to medical services, and educational opportunities. In theory, these obligations are meant to ensure a high level of foster youth well-being and provide them with opportunities comparable to those of their peers who are not in the system. In practice, that’s obviously far from the case, as documented by various reports highlighting the frequent failures of ACS to meet these basic needs. In 2015, over 20 percent of youth who exited foster care between the ages of 13 and 18 in New York City entered either a Single Adult Department of Homeless Services or Family with Children Department of Homeless Services shelter within six years of their exit. Furthermore, 53 percent of respondents in a study by the Center for Innovation through Data Intelligence reported that they stayed overnight in jail or a juvenile detention facility. These statistics underscore the systemic inadequacies and highlight the dire consequences faced by many foster youth.
For foster youth transitioning out of the system, not only is that support scant at best: it’s also offered on a highly conditional basis.
These legal obligations fall off a cliff at the age of 18, and youth usually are left to deal with everything after this point on their own. While it is true that 18 years old is the legal age of adulthood, most young adults receive financial and material support during this transitional phase in life (some might even receive these privileges from their parents/caregivers until they approach 30 years old). But for foster youth transitioning out of the system, not only is that support scant at best: it’s also offered on a highly conditional basis.
When a youth expresses their readiness and desire to live in independent housing once they are over the age of 18, foster youth are met with a maze of contradictory, competing, and confusing options, some of which are available to people other than them, some of which are available only to older foster youth. If they are at risk of homelessness, they undergo a psychosocial assessment that is conducted to determine their eligibility for various types of supporting housing. This assessment can feel intrusive and bring up childhood memories not many foster youth want to revisit, but it is just one of the many steps we must take to avoid homelessness. And as we’ll see, these alternatives to homelessness are far from the secure, stable home environments that everyone, foster youth included, need and deserve.
A Glimpse into the Labyrinth of Supportive Transitional Housing
Assuming that one has qualified, there are a few key options for supportive housing available to youth exiting care. One of them is the New York/New York III (NY/NY III) program, so named as a result of a Bloomberg-era cooperation agreement between New York City and the State of New York. NY/NY III established a total of 9,000 units for various vulnerable populations and created two sub-categories that pertain to foster youth aging out of care. First, 200 congregate units were created for youth “who have a serious mental illness.” For young adults aged 18 to 25 at risk of homelessness who do not have serious mental illnesses, the agreement established 200 scattered-site units located all over the city and managed by four foster care agencies—whereas in 2023, not all of the youth who applied to supportive housing received it.
Another supportive housing avenue for youth aging out of the foster system is New York City 15/15 (NYC 15/15), so named because of a de Blasio-era commitment to create 15,000 affordable supportive housing units over fifteen years. NYC 15/15 caters to those with a diagnosed persistent mental illness (PMI). There is also the newly launched Empire State Supportive Housing Initiative (ESSHI) which offers broader supports but has a much broader eligibility than the programs mentioned so far, making it much less likely that foster youth will be successful in obtaining placement. These options are either scattered-site housing across New York City or congregate care, where multiple youth live in the same building with on-site services.
The city’s 15,000-unit plan is comprised of a projected 7,500 newly-developed congregate (single-site) apartments and a projected 7,500 scattered-site apartments, whereas only 247 scattered-site units are specifically available to young adult individuals ages 18–25. In particular, they are set aside for young people who are “Runaway Homeless Youth (DYCD RHY), or Administration of Children’s Services (ACS) Foster Care [youth with] … risk factors including but limited to: duration and episodes of homelessness, health and/or behavioral health conditions, complex trauma, vocational/educational challenges, and other barriers to independent living.” While some youth have expressed positive experiences in these programs (others have mixed experiences), the limited number of overall available units relative to the vast need limits the impact of this one-time NYC 15/15 cooperation agreement.
These “supportive” housing placements confront us with issues like leaks, rat infestations, roaches, building landlords who refuse to fix security cameras, package theft, and other tenants urinating in common spaces, perpetuating the cycles of neglect and abandonment that so many foster youth are trying to put behind them.
For those youth lucky enough to get access to housing via any of these avenues, many face substandard living conditions that are far from the support structure they had been promised. These “supportive” housing placements confront us with issues like leaks, rat infestations, roaches, building landlords who refuse to fix security cameras, package theft, and other tenants urinating in common spaces, perpetuating the cycles of neglect and abandonment that so many foster youth are trying to put behind them.
My Own Journey through the Labyrinth
I am one of these youth, and in 2020, I embarked on my own journey toward independence, leaving behind an unsuccessful kinship placement. Filled with optimism, I embraced the freedom to live on my terms, alone and unbound by others’ rules. The prospect of decorating my space, mastering meal prep, and enjoying the safety and cleanliness of my own home while exploring my neighborhood at leisure was exhilarating. I was ready to carve out a sanctuary where I could thrive, balancing school and a full-time job with the promise of a comfortable retreat at day’s end.
I navigated the limited resources available to me, such as Section 8 vouchers, NYCHA, and other programs, only to discover that I was eligible for just one type of supportive housing. Despite my initial excitement at the prospect of finally having a stable home, I soon realized that the reality fell far short of my expectations. Men far older than me and other strangers loitered in the lobby as well as in front of the building, constantly drinking and smoking, which made me uncomfortable walking into and leaving the building. There were no security cameras in the building, and the elevator reeked of human urine every day, not to mention the frequent power outages that spoiled everything in my fridge that I had cooked and bought. These living conditions were far from conducive to my well-being and development.
Upon conducting further research, I discovered that several of the buildings I had been placed in had numerous violations. After expressing my concerns to the city council speaker and detailing my stressful circumstances, the organization relocated me. However, I couldn’t shake the knowledge that another young person would soon face the same challenges I had endured, since these kinds of programs cycle one youth in after one “graduates.” I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else experiencing the distress of rodents devouring their groceries. While I recognized my privilege in being able to advocate for myself and secure a transfer, I knew that many others in similar situations lacked such agency towards getting change made.
It became evident to me that while the names of youth in these programs may change, our narratives, stories, and experiences remain unchanged unless meaningful reforms are implemented.
It became evident to me that while the names of youth in these programs may change, our narratives, stories, and experiences remain unchanged unless meaningful reforms are implemented. I joked with myself about the irony of the term “supportive” housing, which felt anything but supportive, and which I dreaded returning to daily.
When young people in these situations speak up, they are oftentimes met with responses that they should be “grateful for any housing at all” or “start living in the real world.” These interactions highlight a disturbing gap between the promise of support and the reality of what is delivered, and bring into question the system’s effectiveness in safeguarding the welfare of its most vulnerable. Such responses also contradict the foundational goals of the child welfare system. Expecting gratitude in the face of neglect and substandard living conditions ignores the dignity, respect, and care these individuals are entitled to. It overlooks the state’s role as their guardian, which should ideally position them for success, as any parent would do for their own child, and unfortunately, this is a privilege that most of us youth in the system do not have.
My Fight for What Foster Youth Need to Thrive
Equating any form of shelter with adequate care neglects the impact of living conditions on the youth’s health, education, and future opportunities. It fails to recognize that providing a safe, nurturing environment is a legal and ethical obligation of the system. The narrative that youth should feel lucky merely for being housed does not hold when weighed against the system’s responsibility to offer much more than just shelter. It’s about ensuring that the housing contributes positively to their well-being and future prospects, aligning with the broader mandate to support and uplift these young individuals.
The narrative that youth should feel lucky merely for being housed does not hold when weighed against the system’s responsibility to offer much more than just shelter.
Achieving this standard requires more than just providing shelter: it calls for a strategic approach to ensuring that the housing youth receive meets fundamental quality benchmarks and is embedded in supportive communities. My work with Next100 is going to do just that. For one, the housing options youth are offered should be located in safe neighborhoods with access to essential amenities, transportation, and supportive services tailored to their unique experiences. Stricter regulations and quality standards must be enforced to ensure that housing provided to youth aging out of care meets adequate safety and cleanliness standards. Regular inspections, the presence of security measures like surveillance cameras, and prompt response to maintenance issues are essential in creating a safe and supportive environment. Another idea would be to create an ombudsman who advocates for youth in these housings and ensures their needs and concerns are heard and addressed promptly.
Currently, the Department of Health and Mental Hygiene (DOHMH) admits that their monetary contributions to these programs only cover the low end of the “fair market rate.”1 This funding strategy inherently contributes to the substandard living conditions experienced by these young individuals. The city, state, and involved agencies must be held accountable, with rigorous oversight needed to ensure these housing initiatives fulfill their role. Proper oversight is essential not only to maintain standards but also to assist these young people in transitioning successfully into adulthood. By investing adequately and wisely in the housing and support systems for youth, we can contribute to their blossoming into successful, well-adjusted adults.
It’s Time to Make Good on the Promise of Support
Ideally, when youth transition from the foster care system to independence, they should step into a world brimming with opportunities and support. In reality, former foster youth who are aged 18-26 encounter a starkly different scenario—substandard housing that barely meets their needs, much less nurtures their growth. This discrepancy not only questions the government’s role as a caretaker but underscores a profound failure to fulfill its most basic obligation. What does it say about a society when its most vulnerable members are met with conditions that echo the neglect they were supposed to have been rescued from?
What does it say about a society when its most vulnerable members are met with conditions that echo the neglect they were supposed to have been rescued from?
Some critics might respond by saying, “there is a housing crisis everywhere,” or “this is New York City.” While it’s true that urban centers like New York City are grappling with widespread housing crises affecting countless residents across various demographics, the situation of youth exiting the foster care system is distinct. Although the housing crisis is a pervasive issue, youth who have had experience in the child welfare system are in a unique position of vulnerability: lacking family support and often without a safety net, these young adults do not have the luxury of fallback options. Their placement in substandard housing is not just a matter of market failure, but a policy failure of the system that’s supposed to act as their guardian. This differentiation is crucial in understanding why the standard ”this is all New York City housing” excuse falls short of justifying the conditions many of them face. More often than not, these organizations are asking youth who are less ready, to be more ready and stable than their peers. The measure of our progress lies not in the challenges we face, but in the courage and commitment with which we rise to meet them, ensuring that every young person leaving foster care steps into a world where they are not only safe and supported but valued and empowered to succeed.