Invisible Child: Poverty, Survival, and Hope in an American City

by Andrea Elliott

There are many ways to map a city. Geographers rely on the standard compass of north, south, east, west. Dasani charts her city in a different way. It is a parallel map, seen only by certain people. Each borough corresponds to a particular code. The Bronx is DHS (the Department of Homeless Services). Queens is HRA (the Human Resources Administration). Brooklyn is ACS (the Administration for Children’s Services). These three agencies form the triumvirate of Dasani’s life. They are part of a sprawling social service system known intimately to the poor. Their acronyms entered Dasani’s vocabulary when she was still learning to spell. She says “ACS” (child protection) or “DHS” (homeless services) the way a migrant child knows of “ICE” (immigration enforcement). Each agency represents a separate pillar of power, with its own offices, workers, and labyrinthine lines, its own shade of fluorescent lighting. But to Dasani’s mother, they are one and the same. They are limbs of a monolithic body called “the government”—a system that profits off the poor, says Chanel, while punishing them for that very condition. It is also one of the nation’s most generous systems. This stems from a Depression-era amendment to New York’s constitution, declaring that the “aid, care and support of the needy are public concerns and shall be provided by the state.” By almost any measure, the system is vast.