In the Department of Social Services' (DSS) early days, the role of state custody was easy to grasp, even if it wasn't always easy to carry out. Today it's neither.

The needs of abused or neglected children in state care—whether in foster homes, group facilities or residential programs—have always mirrored those of other children. Protection from harm, along with adequate food and shelter, are the most visible requirements, and probably the easiest to meet. But since the inception of DSS nearly 30 years ago, the task of guiding children into adulthood has become increasingly intensive. Today's parents are expected to invest heavily in their youngsters' social and emotional development and to offer support throughout young adulthood, which has prompted a recurring question among those who serve children in DSS care: should the state's role change as well?

"For all intents and purposes, the Commonwealth is a parent," said Brian Condron, Director of Advocacy, Public Policy and Public Affairs at The Home for Little Wanderers, a Boston-based agency with roots dating back to 1799 that deals with children in need of support services. Condron is one of the authors of a statewide report, Preparing Our Kids for Education, Work and Life, released last week. "What we'd like the state to do," he said, "is to match the way parenthood has evolved."

The 36-page report, released on June 5 by the Massachusetts Task force on Youth Aging Out of DSS Care, is based on the experience and research of a group representing nearly 50 statewide government agencies and nonprofits, including DSS and The Home For Little Wanderers. Funding came from the Boston Foundation and the Community Foundation of Western Massachusetts, among other organizations.

The task force identified some of the reasons foster teens often enter adulthood unskilled, unemployed, and homeless, and why they are significantly more likely to become victims of crime or to enter parenthood shortly after leaving state care. The reasons are not hard to identify: a lack of ongoing, supportive relationships with concerned adults, a disconnection from the communities in which the teens come of age, and inadequate educational and life-planning skills. Between 600 and 700 foster children age out of the system each year in Massachusetts. Nearly half have lived in 10 different homes or institutions during their time in state custody.

Joan Wallace-Benjamin, president and CEO of The Home for Little Wanderers and one of the co-chairs of the task force, said protecting children is critical, but it's not nearly enough; in today's highly competitive economy, the state must also focus on preparation for the future. "To assume that at 18 you can be independent without supportive relationships is unrealistic," she said. "The days where the state could say to 18-year-olds, 'Go join the service or a union,' are over. The world has changed around us."

Half the state's foster children are over the age of 12, and Western Massachusetts is home to a disproportionate number of them. The Western Region has 20 percent of the state's adolescents in DSS care, compared to the Boston Region's 14 percent and Metro Region's 16 percent. (The Central Region is separate, with 12 percent.) Considering this area's high rate of child poverty, which puts stressed families at increased risk of instability and rupture, this probably makes sense. But it also means the preparation that children receive in state custody matters greatly to our local communities, since the goal for three quarters of these children, by the age of 18, is "living independently" (as opposed to being reunited with their families or going into long-term care). Over time, successful implementation of the task force's recommendations could have a profound impact on our region's workforce and demographic trends, to say nothing of the human benefits.

A number of the report's recommendations would require legislative or regulatory changes, such as expanding the state's adolescent outreach program and requiring all school districts to enroll foster children immediately. Others would require DSS to make changes, such as increasing "time-out" options for teens, which could help to avoid rupturing otherwise successful placements and moving teens into lockup facilities unnecessarily.

Still, when it comes to the intangible aspects of child rearing, such as the emotional investment or sense of continuity that all kids require, it can be tough to imagine the exact role the state can play.

"It's not a core function of government," said Senator Stanley Rosenberg (D-Amherst), a former foster child himself. "It's been on the margin. But we have, from time to time, had programs to help people learn good parenting skills. In this case, we are the parents, and we have a responsibility to ensure that children are provided with what they need. The way I view it, if a child is removed from the home by the state, the state has become their family."

Condron agrees that legislation can only go so far, but he believes the potential impact of small changes is enormous.

"There's a plethora of things we can legislate, even if there are some that we can't," he said. "You can legislate twice-yearly check-ins about progress in finding [permanent placements], or a one judge-one family policy so that a child doesn't have to keep seeing different judges. You can legislate that a child will have school records follow them in every school district that they go to, and that they have someone in the schools who focuses on foster children."

Rosenberg's administrative aid, Bryon Hefner, said he particularly appreciates the report's recommendation that adolescents play a role in deciding where they will live. He recalls that three years ago, he sent letters to transitional programs on behalf of a foster child who was floundering, a teen who needed skills for independent living and was in a program that simply wasn't working out. Hefner, barely 18 at the time, was especially relieved when his wish was granted, because he was the foster child in question.

"I fought tooth and nail to get what was best for me," says the college student, who now lives independently and works under Rosenberg as a summer intern at the statehouse. "Social workers told me that there was nowhere else for me to go, that no one wanted me. But they were wrong. People did want me."

Thanks to his initiative, Hefner was accepted into a transitional program through The Home for Little Wanderers. In most of his 10 or so previous placements, he says, it seemed like "the staff was just there as bodies, and I didn't feel wanted or needed." But he describes his experience at the Home as "probably the best experience of my life."

"The staff was nurturing, and they cared," he recalls. "Whether you were excited because you got a part in a play or just needed someone to understand how tired you were after going to school and then working 30 hours a week, they were right there. There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for us. And even a few months ago, when I had a problem getting a doctor's appointment, I went back there because I didn't know who to call, and they helped me with that. It's a support system that will never go away."