Welfare liens cruelly put people in debtor’s prison
Renee Blake’s nightmare began a few years ago when an angry boy kicked a hole in the wall of her Stratford house. As a foster mother, Blake contacted the state for help fixing the wall, and that’s when she found that, unbeknownst to her, the state had placed a lien on her four-bedroom home.
As a young mother, Blake went on state assistance. The lien was Connecticut’s attempt to recoup that cash, which amounted to roughly $37,000, decades after she went off state assistance, she said.
Connecticut is one of just a handful of states that imposes so-called “welfare liens.” People who receive assistance can find that when they try to sell a house, or if they receive a legal settlement or an inheritance, that the state wants its money back. Any inheritance they might try to leave their family can be subject to a lien, as well.
The policy is a throwback to debtor’s prison with a twist — technology allows the state to keep careful track of the finances of former assistance recipients, including pandemic stimulus checks, Blake said.
Since the ’70s, most states have stopped the practice, but Connecticut and New York continue, and in fact have clung to some of the country’s most draconian requirements
Connecticut is one of just a handful of states that imposes so-called “welfare liens.” People who receive assistance can find that when they try to sell a house, or if they receive a legal settlement or an inheritance, that the state wants its money back. Any inheritance they might try to leave their family can be subject to a lien, as well.
for repayment. The policy, state House Speaker Matthew Ritter said in a recent live-streamed news conference, is “the ultimate dream crusher.”
The very thing most families rely on to build generational wealth — home ownership — can push vulnerable families back into poverty. Blake’s lien means that if she sells her house, the equity she’s built up over roughly 10 years will be erased. And she wants to sell the house to join family in Georgia.
“It’s bad enough the taxes are really high here,” said Blake. “If I sell my house, most of my profits go back to the state. I feel trapped.”
Ritter said he became aware of the liens when he was approached by representatives from the Greater Hartford Interfaith Action Alliance, whose members list Connecticut’s welfare liens as systemic issues that need to be addressed. Ritter agrees, and called the practice of collecting payments from former assistance recipients a “short-sighted, hurtful policy.”
“If the purpose of welfare is temporary assistance as a pathway to selfsufficiency, welfare liens undermine the very goal of program,” said Ritter. “We know these liens negatively affect welfare recipients. I believe wholeheartedly Connecticut can do better so that we all, as a whole, can be better.”
Eliminating welfare liens is “something we should have done long ago,” said Rep. Toni E. Walker, co-chairwoman of the legislative appropriations committee, who was also at the news conference. She said the liens amount to about $18 million.
“We understand this is going to have an impact on revenue, but at what cost should we worry about that,” said Walker. “People’s lives are affected by this.”
Because Blake didn’t remember being told about the lien when she signed up for state assistance — or if she was, she forgot — Blake said she asked for a hearing, where she said she was told, essentially, the policy is what it is and the lien stood.
Blake grew up in Bridgeport. Her mother was a social worker, and pushed Blake and the family to better themselves. Blake said she went to school, and then worked until the birth of her son, who is now in his 40s. When she couldn’t find day care for him, she, a young single mother, went on unemployment for a year. When her unemployment ran out, she briefly went on state assistance, she said. And in that, Blake is like the majority of public assistance recipients, who usually receive aid for less than two or three years.
Blake started work again, went back to school, studied computers, and saved for a house. She married twice, and was widowed twice. When her second husband died, she was in the process of buying her first house, at age 50.
She went back on unemployment for a few months when her job was shipped overseas, she said, but mostly she has been able to stay in the work force. She became an ordained minister and a foster mother. She worked to keep kids off the streets.
These were sometimes kids who carried the weight of the world on their shoulders, including the boy who kicked her wall. She hopes elimination of the liens will allow her to finally enjoy retirement.
“My family members all own homes in Georgia,” said Blake. “Shouldn’t there be a statute of limitations?”