Fostering Kinship

An International Perspective on Kinship Foster Care

Roger Greeff

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781138321717
• eBook ISBN: 9780429839658
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Social Policy
• Index: Politics & International Relations

First published in 1999, this work draws together a multi-national collection of papers, and aims to stimulate the development of policy and practice in this often neglected area. It aims to offer examples of good social work practice, informed by relevant theoretical insights; to give a voice to kinship foster carers and young people so that practice can be informed by an understanding of their experience; to share the results of current research; to highlight issues for policy makers; and to place the issues in the wider international context of developing social policy, ideology and social change. There are contributions from the UK, Poland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Ireland, the US and NewZealand.

Part I
The Policy Dimension

1 Kinship, Fostering, Obligations and the State

Roger Greeff
Britain

When, over the last fifty years, social workers in western Europe and North America have talked about fostering, they have almost invariably meant placements with foster carers unrelated to the child. In fact, though, some of the placements they have been working with have always been placements with members of the child's extended family. The 1980s have seen a serious recognition of kinship foster care for the first time, and positive developments in its use, in, for example, Sweden, the Netherlands, the United States and Britain.

There are, though, very different patterns in other social and economic contexts. In the developing world - the economic 'South' - the care of a child often still rests with the kinship network and the local community, and the emphasis in fostering services is on developing for the first time a system of non-relative fosterers to deal with those situations where the traditional system of care cannot cope.

In southern Europe, even with a welfare state in place, social workers may struggle to introduce non-relative fostering. Triseliotis (1994) observes that in these societies there are strong extended family systems where 'the boundary line between members of the extended family appears very loose, allowing for support and exchanges, including the care of related children.' 'However,' he continues, 'the boundary line between the extended family system and the outside world is rather rigid, leading to . . . some reluctance to look after non-related children' (1994: 4).

Finally, in central and eastern Europe, until the liberalisation of the 1980s, substitute care for children rested mostly either with the extended family, or with State institutions. Now, social workers in these countries are, like colleagues in the South, seeking to fill the gap by developing non-relative foster care, but should the extensive kinship care which already exists now be regarded as foster care?

Who are kin?

It may be helpful to be clear at this stage what this book will be taking into account as 'kin'. We will be considering any relative, by blood or marriage, apart from the parents of the child in question. But the possibilities are in fact wider than this; it has been pointed out that among African-American families, as many as two-thirds had 'fictive kin' - people who are not related either by blood or marriage, but who are none the less clearly treated as kin. Similar attributions will apply, to a greater or lesser extent, in most cultures. Such people may not carry any moral or legal obligation to the child in the way that actual relatives may, but if we are concerned to identify who matters to a child or young person - and who may be able to offer a supportive home - then surely we must allow our focus to widen on occasion to include 'fictive kin'.

One factor of which we must be aware in a collection of papers such as this is the way that patterns of contact and commitment between kin will vary considerably in different communities and in differing eras. Any discussion - and certainly any sensitive social work practice - must take care to tune into the particular dynamics of the specific community to which this individual child belongs. We must therefore take care not to universalise from any one model or discussion within an international collection such as this. Ideas from Poland or New Zealand may be very relevant to social work in Sweden or Britain, but those paradigms may need significant adjustment to the different social patterns in a different society.

Sociologists have devoted much debate to the question why family forms have varied as society has changed. In pre-capitalist societies, do we note some relics of a 'feudal' family form, or is there even here the emergence of the nuclear family unit? Is there an inevitable movement, if a society adopts more intensely capitalist and individualist patterns, from kinship and community to a more limited network we may call the 'extended family', and from that to an isolated nuclear family unit with rather uncertain levels of support from a very few close kin?

Over against the tendency to regard kinship as a rapidly declining aspect of family life in modern societies, writers such as Greer (1985) have argued that it is in fact the extended family which has endured, albeit making adjustments to changing social circumstances, through generations of change. She sees the tension not as pre-capitalist vs. capitalist, but rather between 'traditional community' forms and 'the doctrine of instant gratification' prevalent in the consumerist West. It is possible to identify communities within capitalist societies which are still genuinely communitarian.

Similarly, Finch (1989: 85) argues that 'Industrialisation and urbanisation did not destroy either domestic relationships or kin relationships but clearly they did . . . transform their character.' She points out that although the particular patterns of support may have changed, extended families in modern Britain still operate to offer a whole range of support - with finances, accommodation, physical/health care, stress and relationship problems, and of course with child care.

She suggests that what alters over time is on the one hand, the particular pattern of 'need' for support, and on the other hand the 'capacity' of relatives to offer help. Both 'need' and 'capacity' are affected by the prevailing social, economic and demographic conditions at any particular time:

In reality the amount and type of support that kin give each other varies with the particular historical circumstances within which family relationships are played out. .. there is variation both in people's need for support and in the capacity of relatives to provide it. (Finch 1989: 81)

One further question is whether the pattern of support within kinship networks is now defined more narrowly in intergenerational patterns, from parent to child to grandchild, with a decline in involvement from 'lateral' relatives such as aunts, uncles and cousins? Lengthening life expectancy means that, for instance, by 1962 in industrialised countries one in four older people with children also had great-grandchildren (Shanas et al. 1968). For a far larger proportion of families than ever before, there are as many as three other generations of family members to relate to. Morgan (1975: 81) suggests that 'generational relationships' are of first importance - the primary relationship and sense of obligation is from parent to child - followed by sibling relationships, and then wider kinship. This analysis represents another example of ideas which need to be tested in differing social contexts; for instance, even in Britain, the link between sisters-in-law may be very important in communities of South Asian background (Wilson 1978).

This last point is helpful in pointing up the contrasts and changes in patterns of marriage and divorce, and their effects upon family networks. Some societies now see something close to 'serial monogamy', with the consequence that children may have step relationships and links with more than one family of 'in-laws'. Some of these relationships may be tenuous and insignificant; others may matter a great deal, and amount to real attachments.

Finally, Finch (1989: 86) offers a reminder that kinship support is 'patterned by the position of individuals in wider social structures - their class position, their gender, their ethnic identity.' In particular, the question must be asked whether in pursuing the cause of kinship care, we may be perpetuating the subordination and exploitation of women? In societies structured by patriarchy, Dalley (1988) may be right in arguing that in the end any care arrangement based on a familial model will inevitably perpetuate inequalities between women and men. I would want to argue that any practitioner planning care arrangements for children should be monitoring the effects of their intervention on the position of the women (and men) involved, and attempting to ensure that the responsibilities are shared in anti-sexist ways. For instance, the ecology of an extended family should not be defined in terms of men in authority and women as carers we should not be scrutinising the network of a child looking for a woman with a sense of obligation.

The question of ethnicity is dealt with later in this chapter at a political level, but it must be acknowledged here that most societies are now clearly pluralist, and there is therefore an obvious need to recognise the particular patterns of closeness and distance, freedom and obligation which apply within different communities, and to work with, not against them.

The needs of children

The fundamental justification for kinship foster care is that it is often the best way of meeting the needs of the child, particularly the needs for continuity of experience and for a clear sense of identity and belonging.

When parents are unable to carry on with the immediate care of the child, the kinship network often steps in quite naturally and without any involvement from social workers or the State. A particular example of this phenomenon in recent British history would be the experience of children in the Caribbean who stayed on with grandparents when in the 1950s and 60s their parents came on ahead in the move to living in Britain. In some cases, several years went by before the child was reunited with her parent in Britain. What is interesting about many of the accounts of this process is to note that the child often seems to have adapted relatively easily to the loss of the parent - the child was still in the same place, with the same friends, cared for by a familiar figure, within the same community. What was actually very difficult was the move to Britain, and the readjustment involved in re-forming a relationship with your parent, at the same time as coping with a new country, new school, completely different way of life and an appalling climate (Riley 1985).

Too often, the experience of children who are admitted to public, State care can be similar to that of the child arriving from the Caribbean, Although foster carers have been carefully selected, the move from home may involve the loss of almost everything that is familiar. You find yourself with new carers in a new home, in a neighbourhood you don't know, with no existing friends, feeling lost (Winter 1977).

White (1983) suggested that some key themes which emerge when theorists and practitioners try to identify the prerequisites for growth, development and fulfilment in a child are a secure base, significance and community. Arguably, if alternative care is needed, then kinship care can provide a new base which is contiguous with the old one, a sense of significance (mattering enough to a relative for them to welcome you) and a sense of community, ideally the opportunity to remain within the same neighbourhood. Hegar (1993) has suggested that the three key factors to be taken into account in planning a child's placement are the child's emotional attachments, her need for 'permanence' and security and her kinship relationships.

We are learning that, in planning alternative care for children and young people, one of the key hazards for the child is the sheer extent of the disruption involved in the move. A child will be carrying a personal sense of security which rests upon the reliability and continuity of a whole range of factors, including, along with parenting, their network of friends, their school, a sense of place which centres upon their family home and the neighbourhood where they play, and a patchwork of familiar people teachers, neighbours and of course, relatives.

If the damaging effects of a breakdown in parenting are to be minimised, then the greater the number of elements of the child's sense of self and security we can leave in place, the better. It is in this context that social workers and others have come to realise that a placement within the existing family network is often the first choice. Research in Sweden, Israel and the UK suggests that kinship fostering leads to positive identity outcomes for the young people involved.

Recent policy guidelines in England and Wales demonstrate the growing recognition of the child's need for continuity:

A child's need for continuity in life and care should be a consistent factor in choice of placement. In most cases, this suggests a need for placement with a family of the same race, religion and culture in a neighbourhood within reach of [the child's] family, school or day nursery, church, friends and leisure activities. Continuity also requires placement in a . . . home which a child can find familiar and sympathetic and not remote from [her] own experience in social background, attitudes and expectations. (Department of Health 1991: 4.4)

This statement spells out very clearly the reasons why, in the child's best interests, kinship placements should be high in the list of alternative care arrangements for many children.

Trading in children?

We have considered the costs to the child when she is separated from her parents and family, but there is another side to the equation: the loss of the child matters to the community to which she belonged. When parents are unable to continue with the care of their child, there is a danger that the child will be lost - temporarily or permanently - not just to the parents, but also to the community.

Children are important members of any community, and represent very clearly, the potential of the community: to lose its children is to lose its future. This concern has been voiced very forcefully in Britain and the US by the Black communities, who have seen disproportionate numbers of their children entering the care system. Until recently, those children were too often 'transplanted' into white families or institutions; they then grew up without any clear sense of themselves as Black, and they seldom had any significant contacts with the Black community, nor any real sense of belonging to it. 'These Black children have been made white in all but skin colour' (Gill and Jackson 1983:137). Children are effectively being 'exported' from the Black community to the white community: 'The one-way traffic of Black children into white families begs fundamental questions of power and ideology' (Small 1986: 83).

One example of this phenomenon is the experience of the aboriginal community in Aotearoa/New Zealand. The Maori community has experienced extreme marginalisation and economic and social deprivation: one effect of this has been that a disproportionately large number of Maori children and young people have been placed in care. Many of these children were then placed in foster homes, often with white foster carers. In 1989, ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Dedication
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Notes on Contributors
• Tables and Figures
• Introduction
• Part I The Policy Dimension
• Part II The Social Work Role
• Part III Race, Gender and Welfare
• Conclusion – Clear Policy and Good Practice in Kinship Foster Care
• Index