Beyond Reform in Youth Justice: Conceptualizing Carceral Seepage Across Youth-Serving Systems

Introduction

The United States child welfare system (CWS) has long been a site of scholarly and policy debate, particularly concerning its role in perpetuating systemic harm against marginalized families (Roberts, 2022). While some argue for its reform, others call for its abolition (Dettlaff et al., 2020), recognizing how the CWS historically and materially functions as an extension of state control rather than a mechanism for care or social welfare. Yet, a broader analysis of how the CWS intersects with and operates alongside other punitive youth-serving systems, particularly the juvenile legal system (JLS) and the school-to-prison nexus, is missing from much of this discussion (Kolivoski et al., 2017). These systems, rather than existing in isolation, work in concert to police, punish, and marginalized youth, particularly Black and Brown children. Rather than addressing the needs of young people, they function as sites of surveillance and containment, entangling families in webs of systemic oppression (Lovaas, 2016; Meiners & Winn, 2012).

To capture the interconnectedness of these systems, we draw on the concept of carceral seepage—the institutionalization of carceral logics and practices that compound across youth-facing systems (Serrano, 2024). While scholars have examined the expansion of punitive frameworks beyond traditional sites of incarceration, there has been little exploration of how researchers should engage with and study this phenomenon. Carceral seepage does not simply refer to the growing influence of punitive policies in responding to social problems or populations deemed “problematic” (Meiners, 2010; Serrano, 2024), but illustrates the ways in which the ideologies of criminalization, surveillance, and control permeate across institutions that ostensibly exist to support youth. In this conceptual article, we develop a framework for applying carceral seepage to practice, illustrating how these systems overlap and cohere as an apparatus of governance that criminalizes youth, and argue for the necessity of studying systems together rather than as discrete entities.

By tracing how the CWS, JLS, and school discipline policies sustain and reinforce one another, we argue that a research agenda rooted in abolition must not only document these systems’ harms, but actively work toward dismantling these structures of youth governance that foreclose life-affirming possibilities for youth. In doing so, we also call for a reconsideration of how scholars approach the study of youth-serving systems, urging a shift away from reformist framings that isolate institutions as discrete entities to be salvaged and toward methodologies that foreground abolitionist commitments.

Carceral Seepage as a Conceptual Frame

Carceral seepage captures the ways in which punitive logics expand beyond the traditional boundaries of incarceration, embedding themselves within systems that claim to provide care, protection, and education. Rather than existing solely within prisons or police forces, carceral ideologies shape the practices, policies, and interventions of institutions designed to support youth and families (Serrano, 2024). This insidious diffusion ensures that schools, child welfare agencies, and the JLSs operate as extensions of carceral control, entangling marginalized youth in webs of surveillance, punishment, and exclusion (Love, 2019; Meiners, 2010; Roberts, 2002; Serrano, 2024). While these institutions are often framed as distinct, each with its own policies, bureaucracies, and intended functions, they are, in reality, deeply interconnected, reinforcing one another to maintain a broader system of racialized social regulation.

This phenomenon is not incidental but rather a structured and systemic feature of governance in the United States, rooted in the country’s long history of racialized control. The expansion of carceral logics into non-carceral institutions reflects a deliberate design, one that ensures that Black, Brown, Indigenous, and poor youth remain enmeshed in state oversight from early childhood through adulthood (Meiners, 2016; Roberts, 2022; Sojoyner, 2016). Black and Brown youth are more frequently removed from their homes and separated from their families and communities, disproportionately policed in their schools, and funneled into the JLS at alarming rates (Hill et al., 2023; Couvson, 2018; Roberts, 2022; Shedd, 2015; Washington et al., 2021; Weaver, 2007). These patterns are not the result of individual failures, behavioral deficiencies, or community deficits; rather, they are structurally embedded in the very logic of these systems, which prioritize surveillance, discipline, and risk management over holistic care or larger conceptions of welfare. Carceral seepage ensures that youth who enter one system, whether through school discipline, a child protection report, or a minor legal infraction, are far more likely to experience intervention from others, creating a seamless trajectory from state oversight to incarceration (Serrano, 2024).

The pervasiveness of carceral seepage has often been overlooked in mainstream scholarship, where analyses of these systems remain siloed. Traditional approaches to social work, education, and the JLS tend to treat child welfare removals, school suspensions, and youth incarceration as separate issues, failing to recognize how these systems cohere into an interconnected matrix of control. This fragmented perspective obscures the extent to which punitive logics (Brent, 2019), move across institutional boundaries, reinforcing exclusionary practices rather than addressing the material conditions that lead to youth system involvement (Gray, 2005; Meiners, 2011). Carceral seepage as a framework allows us to challenge this compartmentalization, compelling researchers and practitioners to examine how these systems function collectively to criminalize and regulate marginalized youth (Serrano, 2024).

Recognizing the role of carceral seepage demands a fundamental shift in how we frame our inquiries. If we are to take abolitionist perspectives seriously, we must move beyond critiques of isolated institutional harms and instead interrogate how these systems actively reproduce carceral ideologies under the guise of care. This shift requires not only a reconceptualization of how youth-serving systems operate but also a transformation in the methodologies used to study them. Rather than merely documenting the failures of child welfare, education, and juvenile justice, research must actively work toward dismantling the conditions that allow these systems to persist. This means foregrounding the voices of system-impacted youth and families, centering community-led interventions, and resisting the co-optation of reformist narratives that seek to make punitive institutions more palatable rather than eliminating them altogether (Critical Resistance, 2021; Love, 2019).

As carceral seepage permeates youth-serving systems, it is critical to examine how this phenomenon unfolds within specific institutions that claim to protect and support young people. The CWS, the JLS, and the school-to-prison nexus each reflect distinct yet deeply interconnected manifestations of carceral control (Goldman & Rodriguez, 2022; Kolivoski et al., 2017; Krueger-Henney, 2014; Meiners, 2010; Rios, 2011; Roberts, 2012). The CWS, for example, frequently mirrors criminal legal interventions, treating families under surveillance as inherently suspect and regulating parental behavior through the threat of child removal (Fong, 2023; Roberts, 2012, 2022). Similarly, the JLS has shifted away from its rehabilitative origins to embrace a punitive model that treats marginalized youth as inherently criminal, imposing restrictive conditions that increase their likelihood of long-term incarceration (Washington et al., 2021). The school system, under the influence of carceral logics, increasingly relies on exclusionary discipline, zero-tolerance policies, and school-based policing, transforming educational spaces into pipelines to confinement rather than sites of support (Couvson, 2018; Skiba et al., 2014).

Each of these systems reinforces and amplifies the other, forming a feedback loop of punishment that disproportionately targets marginalized communities. A child who experiences a Child Protective Services investigation may be more likely to face disciplinary action in school due to heightened surveillance, just as a youth entangled in the JLS may encounter educational barriers that increase their risk of recidivism (Rios, 2011; Roberts, 2022; Shedd, 2015; Skiba et al., 2014). These interlocking mechanisms of control ensure that carceral logic is self-perpetuating, continuously justifying its own expansion under the guise of protection and risk management.

By analyzing how carceral logics shape the policies and practices of these institutions, we can better understand how they sustain state control under the pretense of intervention. More importantly, we can identify opportunities to disrupt these punitive frameworks by advancing abolitionist alternatives rooted in collective care (Washington et al., 2021). If we are to build systems that genuinely support youth and families, we must reject reformist solutions that seek to soften the edges of carceral control while leaving its fundamental structures intact (Kaba et al., 2021; Washington et al., 2021). Instead, we must invest in non-carceral, community-based responses that prioritize self-determination, healing, and the redistribution of resources to those most affected by systemic harm (Kaba et al., 2021).

The following sections explore how carceral seepage materializes within child welfare, juvenile justice, and educational institutions, highlighting the urgent need for transformative, community-centered solutions. Through this analysis, we argue that addressing carceral seepage is not simply a matter of mitigating harm within existing systems but of actively working toward their abolition and the creation of alternative frameworks that support youth outside the grasp of state control.

Abolitionist Perspectives on Child Welfare

The CWS has long been framed as a protective institution designed to safeguard children from harm. However, in practice, it functions as a mechanism of social control, disproportionately targeting Black and Indigenous families and mirroring the oppressive legacies of slavery, segregation, and colonial violence (Dettlaff, 2023; Roberts, 2002). Rather than addressing structural inequities that contribute to family instability—such as poverty, inadequate housing, and health care disparities—the CWS criminalizes those conditions, often leading to unnecessary family separation. The overrepresentation of Black children in foster care, their prolonged stays in the system, and their decreased likelihood of reunification compared to white children are not reflections of higher rates of abuse, but rather of systemic racism embedded within child welfare practices (Cho & Fleckman, 2023; Font et al., 2012; Harp & Bunting, 2020).

The logic of carceral seepage is evident in how the CWS operates: punitive logics of surveillance and punishment, characteristic of the criminal legal system, have infiltrated what should be systems of care. Mandatory reporting laws, for instance, transform teachers, health care professionals, and social workers into agents of the state, creating a direct pipeline between families and the carceral apparatus of child removal (Harrell & Wahab, 2022). Once inside the system, families are subjected to restrictive service plans, monitoring, and compliance requirements that often fail to address their actual needs (Roberts, 2022). Rather than receiving tangible support, parents—particularly mothers of color—are punished for their circumstances, reinforcing cycles of state control and family destabilization.

Abolitionist scholars and activists argue that true care requires dismantling the punitive aspects of the CWS and replacing them with community-centered alternatives (Dettlaff, 2023; Fong, 2023; Roberts, 2022). Rather than responding to economic hardship with child removal, resources should be directed toward financial assistance, accessible mental health care, housing stability, and culturally responsive family support. Consequently, abolitionist approaches reject state-led reforms that merely rebrand existing punitive structures and instead center the leadership of those most impacted in creating sustainable solutions (Brock-Petroshius et al., 2022; Kaba et al., 2021; Washington et al., 2021). Only by dismantling the current system’s reliance on policing and surveillance can we begin to build genuine systems of care.

Abolitionist Perspectives in the JLS

The JLS was originally intended to serve as a rehabilitative alternative to the adult criminal legal system, recognizing that young people’s developmental stages require different approaches to justice (Mills, 1996; Washington et al., 2021). However, the JLS has since evolved to mirror the punitive nature of adult incarceration, disproportionately targeting Black and Brown youth and subjecting them to cycles of surveillance, confinement, and institutional neglect. Today, the United States incarcerates more young people than any other nation, with devastating effects on their psychological well-being, education, and long-term opportunities (Boch et al., 2024; Silver et al., 2023).

Carceral seepage is evident in how the punitive reach of the JLS extends beyond courtrooms and detention centers, shaping policies in schools, child welfare agencies, and community spaces. Over-policing in marginalized neighborhoods ensures that youth of color are placed under heightened scrutiny, with minor infractions leading to legal system involvement rather than community-based interventions (Goff et al., 2014; Hill et al., 2023; Washington et al., 2021). The school-to-prison pipeline exemplifies this entanglement, as educators and school officials work alongside police and probation officers to funnel students—particularly those from underfunded schools—into the JLS rather than providing necessary academic or social support (Sellers & Arrigo, 2018). Even after release, young people remain ensnared in carceral control through probation, electronic monitoring, and restrictions that limit their ability to reintegrate into society, further reinforcing cycles of criminalization.

Abolitionist perspectives reject the notion that incarceration can ever be a solution to social harm. Research consistently demonstrates that juvenile incarceration exacerbates trauma, disrupts education, and increases the likelihood of future system involvement rather than addressing the underlying causes of youth behavior (Washington et al., 2021). Instead of detention and punitive surveillance, abolitionist frameworks call for transformative justice approaches that emphasize community healing, harm reduction, and restorative justice (Kaba et al., 2021). Investments should be redirected toward youth programming, community mediation, and economic opportunities that address the root causes of system involvement rather than reinforcing the very structures that harm marginalized youth.

Abolitionist Perspectives in the School-to-Prison Nexus

The school-to-prison nexus highlights the ways in which educational institutions have become entangled with punitive carceral systems, particularly through the expansion of zero-tolerance policies, school-based policing, and exclusionary discipline practices (Couvson, 2018; Shedd, 2015). Rather than serving as sites of growth and learning, many schools—especially those serving predominantly Black, Brown, and low-income students—function as extensions of the criminal legal system (Gardner et al., 2024). Under the guise of maintaining order and discipline, these institutions criminalize student behavior, pushing young people out of educational spaces and into carceral institutions (Berlowitz et al., 2017; Couvson, 2018).

The presence of carceral seepage within schools is unmistakable. Metal detectors, security cameras, armed school resource officers (SROs), and routine police presence have transformed many educational spaces into heavily surveilled environments that more closely resemble prisons than places of learning (Couvson, 2018; Shedd, 2015). Minor disciplinary issues—such as talking back to a teacher, skipping class, or violating dress codes—can result in suspension, expulsion, or even arrest, disproportionately affecting Black and disabled students (Skiba et al., 2014). Research has shown that rather than creating safer school environments, punitive disciplinary measures increase dropout rates, decrease academic performance, and heighten student alienation (Losen, 2015). The normalization of surveillance and punishment in schools serves to acclimate students—especially those from marginalized communities—to a lifetime of carceral control.

Abolitionist educators and organizers argue that dismantling the school-to-prison nexus requires removing carceral structures from educational institutions and replacing them with holistic, community-based models of discipline and support (Love, 2019). This includes eliminating SROs, abolishing zero-tolerance policies, and investing in social workers, restorative justice coordinators, and culturally responsive educators who can support students’ social and emotional development rather than punishing them for struggling in systems designed to fail them. Schools should be places of possibility and empowerment, not training grounds for incarceration (Love, 2019).

Bridging the Framework to Abolitionist Solutions

As we have demonstrated, carceral seepage operates as a structuring force across youth-serving systems, embedding punitive logics in institutions that claim to provide care and support. This phenomenon ensures that marginalized youth—particularly Black and Brown children—experience constant surveillance, discipline, and exclusion, whether in their homes, schools, or communities. Rather than receiving resources that facilitate well-being, they are subjected to state interventions that prioritize control, regulation, and punishment while instituting barriers to care. To address these entanglements, abolitionist approaches demand a reimagining of youth-serving systems that center community-based support, restorative justice, and material investments in the conditions that foster stability and security. The challenge is not merely to reform existing institutions but to dismantle the structural mechanisms that criminalize youth and replace them with practices that affirm life, autonomy, and self-determination.

Abolitionist solutions to carceral seepage require divestment from punitive institutions and reinvestment in community-based infrastructures that offer meaningful support. Instead of relying on child welfare agencies that separate families or JLSs that confine youth, resources must be directed toward housing stability, accessible health care, well-funded schools, and economic security—elements that reduce system involvement in the first place. Youth-serving institutions must be entirely restructured to shift away from their embedded carceral logics and become sites of genuine care rather than surveillance (Rios, 2011). This means removing police officers from schools, eliminating predictive risk assessments in child welfare, and dismantling probationary oversight structures that act as pipelines to deeper system entanglement.

Restorative and transformative justice approaches must be prioritized in responding to harm, moving beyond the criminal legal system’s reliance on punishment. Schools should replace exclusionary discipline and school-based policing with restorative justice models that emphasize conflict resolution, relationship-building, and mediation rather than punishment. Communities must be supported in developing alternative crisis response teams that do not rely on law enforcement, ensuring that young people in distress receive care rather than criminalization. In cases where harm occurs, particularly in schools and child welfare settings, transformative justice models offer pathways for accountability and healing without state intervention. Rather than forcing families into the carceral gaze of mandated reporting and family regulation, communities must be resourced to develop their own family support networks, ensuring that interventions are non-coercive, culturally responsive, and free from punitive oversight.

Building toward an abolitionist future also requires addressing the root causes of system involvement (Kim et al., 2024; Washington et al., 2021). Much of what the state currently labels as child neglect is simply poverty criminalized under a racialized framework (Roberts, 2012, 2022). Rather than increasing surveillance and punitive interventions for struggling families, abolitionist approaches demand policies that ensure housing, food security, and financial stability for caregivers. Similarly, youth criminalization often emerges from systemic disinvestment in education, employment opportunities, and mental health services (Brown, 2007). Redirecting funding away from carceral institutions and into youth-centered programming—such as free after-school activities, mentorship programs, and trauma-informed mental health care—prevents the conditions that lead to system contact.

A key element of abolitionist approaches is ensuring that those most impacted by carceral systems are positioned as leaders in shaping solutions (Kaba et al., 2021). System-impacted youth, families, and communities must be at the center of policy decisions, advocacy efforts, and program design. Grassroots organizations and mutual aid networks already engage in abolitionist work by providing direct resources and care without reliance on state intervention. These community-led initiatives demonstrate that care and accountability can exist outside of punitive structures and that people, when given the tools and resources, are fully capable of supporting one another without police, courts, or state-mandated interventions.

Dismantling carceral seepage requires a rejection of reformist frameworks that seek to make punitive institutions more palatable rather than eliminating them altogether. Reformist solutions—such as implicit bias training for child welfare workers, increased diversity among police officers in schools, or enhanced oversight within juvenile detention centers—fail to address the fundamental problem: that these institutions exist to regulate, punish, and control rather than to provide meaningful care. Instead of reinforcing state institutions with minor adjustments, abolitionist approaches demand an entirely new vision of care rooted in community autonomy and self-determination. This requires a long-term commitment to dismantling carceral institutions and investing in alternative infrastructures that allow youth to thrive outside the reach of punitive control.

Discussion: Toward an Abolitionist Research and Policy Agenda

The continued expansion of carceral seepage across youth-serving institutions demands urgent intervention. The CWS, JLS, and school-to-prison nexus are not merely flawed systems but are inherently designed to perpetuate cycles of punishment and exclusion. Any attempt at reform that does not directly address the structural nature of these systems risks reinforcing the very harms it seeks to mitigate. Instead, abolitionist scholars and organizers call for the dismantling of these punitive institutions and the creation of alternative structures that provide genuine care, healing, and community investment.

One of the core challenges in addressing carceral seepage is that research on youth-serving systems remains siloed. Traditional policy analyses often focus on individual institutions rather than recognizing how these systems function collectively. An abolitionist approach necessitates a holistic and intersectional analysis that examines how carceral logics manifest within individual institutions and how they are reinforced and sustained through their interconnections. Research must move beyond single-system critiques and instead interrogate how these institutions operate in concert to criminalize youth. By applying the framework of carceral seepage, scholars can better capture the full scope of punitive entanglements and propose strategies that disrupt these patterns.

In addition, much of the current discourse on youth-serving systems is dominated by reformist narratives that seek to improve existing structures rather than dismantle them. Reformist policies—such as increasing surveillance within the CWS under the guise of child safety, expanding probationary oversight in juvenile justice, or implementing softer versions of punitive discipline in schools—often exacerbate carceral control rather than alleviating harm. A critical intervention of this article is to challenge the assumption that these systems can be salvaged. Instead, we argue for divestment from punitive institutions and reinvestment in community-led solutions that address the material conditions driving system involvement.

Policy and Praxis: Building Toward Abolitionist Futures

While research is instrumental in exposing the harms of carceral seepage, it is not enough to simply critique the system; concrete policy changes and community-driven initiatives are necessary to dismantle punitive structures and replace them with genuine systems of care. Abolitionist futures require moving beyond reformist solutions that tinker at the edges of oppressive institutions. Instead we must invest in holistic, community-based models that provide the support and resources needed to ensure youth and families thrive. Below, we expand on key interventions that must be prioritized to disrupt punitive entanglements and foster meaningful support systems for young people and their communities.

Conclusion: Dismantling Carceral Seepage and Envisioning Abolitionist Futures

Carceral seepage is not an aberration within youth-serving systems; it is their defining feature. As we have demonstrated, the CWS, the JLS, and school-to-prison nexus do not operate as isolated entities but as interconnected mechanisms of social control that disproportionately target and criminalize marginalized youth and families. These institutions do not merely fail in their stated missions of care and protection; rather, they actively perpetuate harm by embedding punitive logics into the very structures meant to support children. This entanglement demands an abolitionist response—one that does not simply critique these systems but actively works toward their dismantling and the creation of alternatives rooted in community care, solidarity, and self-determination.

The persistence of these systems reflects a broader ideological commitment to punishment, surveillance, and exclusion rather than investment in care, education, and well-being. Attempts at reform have too often reinforced carceral entanglements rather than eliminating them. The expansion of surveillance in the CWS, the proliferation of probationary oversight in juvenile justice, and the rebranding of school-based policing as “student safety” initiatives have all served to deepen the very harms they claim to remedy. As abolitionist scholars and organizers have long argued, true transformation will not come from making these systems less punitive—it will come from rejecting their fundamental premise and redirecting resources toward structures that actually support youth and families.

To move beyond reformist narratives, we must embrace a research and policy agenda that prioritizes divestment from punitive institutions and reinvestment in community-led solutions. Ending carceral seepage requires more than simply mitigating harm within these systems—it requires eliminating the conditions that allow them to exist in the first place. This means abolishing mandatory reporting laws that criminalize poverty and disproportionately target Black families, removing police and surveillance mechanisms from schools, and dismantling juvenile detention facilities that subject young people to cycles of incarceration and trauma. In their place, we must build robust networks of mutual aid, economic support, accessible health care, transformative justice initiatives, and education models that nurture rather than punish.

Importantly, abolition is not just about tearing down oppressive institutions; it is about reimagining the very foundations of care and justice. This work must be led by system-impacted individuals and communities who have long borne the brunt of state violence and whose expertise is indispensable in shaping meaningful alternatives. By centering their knowledge, experiences, and leadership, we can develop sustainable infrastructures of care that are responsive to the needs of youth and families—without the coercive reach of the state.

The urgency of this moment demands bold action. As scholars, practitioners, and community members, we have an ethical responsibility to disrupt carceral seepage in all its forms and to push for systemic change that does not settle for half-measures. Dismantling punitive youth-serving systems is not a distant ideal; it is an immediate necessity. The question is not whether abolition is possible—it is whether we are willing to fight for a future where all children can grow, thrive, and be supported in systems that recognize their full humanity.