At the height of the pandemic, Ed Center and his husband’s 10-year-old adoptive son Hoku had been inside for days, sullen and addicted to YouTube. Hours-long tantrums followed requests to turn off the iPad or to take a bath. Some episodes escalated into violent outbursts with the boy breaking plates and punching holes in the wall.
The pair were desperate for help in 2021, when a worker at an adoption assistance center suggested a crisis hotline for foster and adoptive parents. So the next time a meltdown felt out of control — a tussle had ensued at teeth-brushing time — Center dialed (833) 939-3877, for the Family Urgent Response System.
One hour later, a counselor walked in the door to their San Francisco home, her own toothbrush in hand. She challenged Hoku to see which of them would be able to finish brushing their teeth first, the beginning of a gentle unwinding. As the relieved parents looked on, she calmed the boy down and put him to bed.
“For a long time, we were caught in a downward spiral,” Center said. “At that moment, it felt like we were no longer alone.”
For the past three years, the Family Urgent Response System has provided in-person help like this to current and former foster youth and their caregivers throughout California during family conflicts and mental health crises. Young people living in homes with families, residential facilities or independent apartments are eligible, as well those who have recently reunified with their parents.
The goal is to stabilize foster care placements, and prevent hospitalizations and calls to police. A mobile-response team is located in all 58 counties in the state, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. At night, when challenging situations often unfold, social workers don’t usually answer their phones and few other mental health professionals are available on-call.
But with California mired in a deep budget deficit, dozens of state programs are slated for elimination. Gov. Gavin Newsom’s $292 billion spending plan released in January proposes zeroing out the annual $30 million investment in the hotline known as FURS.
As a result, more than 1,000 advocacy groups, child welfare agencies and community-based organizations are sounding the alarm. They’re being told the desperately needed program could be dismantled as soon as next year.
“If we weren’t able to take these calls, they would be going to 911, law enforcement, fire — creating much more havoc for the foster kids and families who are already dealing with instability and trauma,” said Gabriel Skydancer, a veteran Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services social worker and director of its urgent response team.
Skydancer said in his county, FURS interventions are successful most of the time in stabilizing foster care placements. As a result, fewer foster youth end up in shelters and on the streets.
Skydancer described one example of note. On the drive to school, a foster youth leaped out of a moving car and into traffic. His grandmother was terrified, and had no idea where he had gone.
Skydancer’s team was dispatched, and when they finally found the high school senior, they discovered why he had run off: The teen was embarrassed. He only had two pairs of pants and three shirts, and his only pairs of shoes had holes in them. As a result, he was being bullied at school.
The urgent response team learned that although his grandmother had taken him in, a family member had been intercepting the benefits she was owed to care for the boy. The team helped transfer the monthly payments to the teenager’s current caregiver, helping better support the high schooler’s needs. FURS staff provided him with new clothes and shoes, and shortly thereafter, he was back in school.
“This is so much more than a hotline,” Skydancer said.
