BROOKLYN, N.Y. _ When it first opened in February, locals viewed it with suspicion. For starters, with its comfy sofas and flat-screen TV, the vibe at "The C.R.I.B." _ aka East New York Family Enrichment Center _ is more living room hangout than social service agency. And secondly, in this rapidly gentrifying neighborhood, longtime residents don't always view new things as harbingers of good things to come.
People would poke their heads in the door and say, "What are you doing here?"
And every time, Lettice Layne, the center's director, would respond, "What do you want us to be doing here?"
In time, people stuck around _ and brought their kids. One elderly gentleman came every day, camping out in front of the TV for hours, not saying a word. After days, weeks, of this, he spoke up. "My Social Security check didn't arrive," he told Layne. "Find out what happened to it."
Layne, a licensed clinical social worker, did a little happy dance. Finally, the man trusted her enough to let her help him. And that, she says, is the purpose of C.R.I.B., which stands for "Community Resources in Brooklyn."
"I want to help people how they want to be helped," says Layne, elegant and willowy with a fluffy Afro puff.
You could call the C.R.I.B., one of three new "family enrichment centers" in New York City, an experiment in community engagement. Here, clients are "community members." And those community members have a say in everything, from what services to offer, to when to hold family movie nights.
My Social Security check didn't arrive," he told Layne. "Find out what happened to it.
The goal is to break the poverty-related cycle of abuse or neglect that pushes kids into the foster care system. To do so, New York and a handful of other cities are creating drop-in support centers for families in need. There are no caseworkers tracking clients in a database. No court-orders requiring parents to do X, Y or Z _ or risk losing their kids. Everything's voluntary.
The new centers are opening at a time when child welfare officials are placing a greater emphasis on preventing family crises, rather than performing triage after the fact. That approach is reflected in a new federal law, too. In February, President Donald Trump signed into law the Family First Prevention Services Act, which effectively blows up the nation's often troubled foster care system _ the most extensive overhaul of foster care in nearly four decades. This new law codifies the focus on keeping families together _ and keeping kids out of foster care.
The family enrichment centers show great potential that they "will provide early support for vulnerable families before they experience a crisis," according to Allison Blake, a senior fellow with the Annie E. Casey Foundation and the former commissioner for New Jersey's Department of Children and Families.
The philosophy behind family enrichment centers: Plop them in high-poverty neighborhoods with high rates of involvement in the child welfare system. Offer a "safe space" where parents can come for advice; take part in a men's support group; take a financial literacy class; get help with housing or writing resumes _ or just meet other parents.
"People are more connected now," says Maria Ducasse, 33, who lives across the street from the C.R.I.B. "I can come in as a mom and talk to other moms, and my 14-year-old can come in, and hang with other teenagers and complain about me."
"That way we won't kill each other," she says, laughing.
