The after-school program disappeared from the Utah school where Jessica Langford sends her two older children, ages 7 and 9, in October 2024.
At first, the charter school for neuroatypical kids replaced the program that had been charging Langford’s family $200 a month with one that charged around $1,500 a month, Langford says. Then, when not enough families—including Langford’s—decided they could pay the high price, the program closed down.
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Now, Langford, a data-science engineer for a tech company, takes on the lion’s share of after-school duties, picking up her children around 3, bringing them home, and trying to get some work done while they amuse themselves. Her husband, a pharmacist, doesn’t get home until around 6, when she gets back on the computer and finishes any work she hadn’t completed during the day.
She knows she’s lucky that her job affords her this flexibility—two other families had to leave the school for places with after-school programs, she says. “We really need to reexamine, as a society, how we’re doing this,” she says. “The school system is not built with two working parents in mind—either the school schedule has to change or the work schedule does.”
America’s after-school system, long strained, has become unworkable for many families. A combination of stagnant and disappearing federal funding, care-worker shortages, and state and local budget cuts has led many programs to limit the number of spaces they provide or close entirely, frustrating working parents who have limited options.
In Utah, for instance, there are an average of 80 kids on the waiting list for every after-school program, says Ben Trentelman, the executive director of the Utah Afterschool Network, which works with programs throughout the state. That’s in part because programs are serving fewer students than before—around 17,000 last year, compared to 32,000 before the pandemic.
Funding is a major issue, Trentelman says. One statewide grant, for example, was broadened to become available to school districts for all sorts of programming, not just after-school, making it much harder for programs to win money. Now a program that used to receive $100,000 from the grant receives $10,000, he says.
Future funding is also uncertain. Earlier this year, President Trump froze grants from a program called 21st Century Community Learning Centers until mid-summer, which made many after-school programs panic that they wouldn’t get paid in time to operate. While they eventually received the funding, the president’s skinny budget released in May proposed consolidating that program with a handful of others and offering less money in the consolidated grant.
The Trump Administration has also said it wants to close the Department of Education, which is where the 21st Century funds come from, making providers even more nervous. “We’ve never operated in this type of environment where there was this much question about whether funds would be available or not,” Trentelman says.
One big problem across states is that many districts used federal pandemic relief funding to open or expand after-school programs, setting aside an estimated $3.27 billion for summer and after-school activities. Now that this funding is running out, programs have to close, says Susan Stanton, the network lead for Afterschool for Children and Teens Now (ACT Now) Coalition in Illinois. “The pandemic-era funding showed us that there was a need there,” she says, “but now there’s no alternate funding.”
In Ohio, the lack of federal pandemic relief funding forced the Boys and Girls Club of Northeast Ohio to close 17 sites that were opening after-school programs. The organization has since reopened a few, but the closure of that and other programs has put a strain on the programs that do exist.
America Scores, an after-school program in Northeast Ohio, still operates in some schools but is now the only provider in the area that does so, says Alison Black, executive director of the Cleveland affiliate of America Scores, noting that it’s now finding itself with waiting lists. Meanwhile, its costs are rising as cash-strapped schools ask the program to pay to use space that used to be free.
“Parents are like, what are we supposed to do?” says Black. “It just feels like there’s not a lot of focus, once kids get to kindergarten, on childcare.”
Read More: Why So Many Childcare Centers Are Closing
Indeed, although a lack of after-school options has been a long-running problem and despite clear demand for programs throughout the country, policymakers have offered few solutions. While there are an estimated 7.8 million kids in after-care programs in the U.S., there are 25 million parents who said they wanted after-care programs for their kids but didn’t have access to them, according to 2020 data from the Afterschool Alliance, a nonprofit that advocates for more options for parents before and after school. Many of the children of those 25 million parents, including 850,000 elementary schoolers, are on their own after school, according to the report.
New data will be released in October, but in the meantime, the Afterschool Alliance found in 2024 that more than half of providers it surveyed had a waiting list and 27% said they were not yet able to operate at pre-pandemic levels because of staffing issues.
“Supply has not kept up with demand,” says Jodi Grant, the executive director of the Afterschool Alliance.
While it’s likely to be significantly reduced, funding for the 21st Century Community Learning Centers program has been flat since about 2014, which means that as costs skyrocket because of inflation, programs technically have less money to spend each year. One analysis by the National Conference of State Legislators estimates there’s been a $10 million decrease in 21st Century funding since 2014, when adjusted for inflation.
At the same time, running an after-school program is getting more expensive, largely due to labor costs. The odd hours and relatively low pay associated with these jobs have always posed a recruiting challenge, but the pandemic made the task even harder, says Gina Warner, the CEO of the National Afterschool Association, which represents after-school workers.
“All of a sudden, during the pandemic, our employees were being lured away by signing bonuses from places like Target,” Warner says. While some providers were able to offer wage increases using federal pandemic aid dollars, those dollars are mostly gone, leaving after-school programs with little wiggle room for raising pay. Now, offers from higher-paying establishments are more and more tempting for people who are seeing expenses rise. “Economically, it’s just getting harder for them to stay,” she says.
This, in turn, has left families scrambling to find people to watch their children after school. In Beacon, N.Y., for instance, the Parks & Recreation Department offers a lottery for its five-day-a-week after-school program. But although the three elementary schools where the program is offered serve more than 700 students, only about 30 kids get into the five-day-a-week program. Families that don’t get into five days a week can try to register their children for one, two, or three, but spots fill up within minutes. (Full disclosure: My son goes to one of these schools and got three days.)
Christine Peterson’s 8-year-old got into only two days a week. A single mom who works roughly 35 minutes from the school as a veterinary technician, Peterson is now trying to find someone to watch her daughter from 3:10, when school gets out, until 6, when she gets home. But the people she’s found on Facebook often flake at the last minute, she says, forcing her to leave work and risk her job security. Other private after-school options in Beacon are too expensive and would require her daughter to get on a long bus ride, she says. “It just causes me so much anxiety to make sure she’s cared for when school is out,” Peterson says.
There are economic reasons for governments to invest more in after-school programs so that fewer families are left in the lurch. Children who attend these programs have higher math scores and fewer behavioral problems and function better in high school than those who do not, research suggests. Before- and after-school programs also allow more parents to join the workforce, generating more money for local economies, especially in a time when economists are worried about the impact of mass deportations on the labor pool.
Without those programs, many families find it impossible for both parents to work full-time—and many single parents find it difficult to stay employed. In 2024, roughly 50% of married-couple families had both spouses employed, according to government data. That’s a slight uptick from the 48% in 2014, a sign that more families are finding that having two incomes is necessary in this economy.
The decline in after-school availability might be a contributing factor to the large number of women who have left the workforce in 2025, says Kathryn Anne Edwards, a labor economist and independent policy consultant. On Sept. 16, the Democratic Women’s Caucus sent a letter to Labor Secretary Lori Chavez-DeRemer expressing concern about the falling rate of women’s labor participation, citing TIME’s reporting.
Read More: Why So Many Women Are Quitting the Workforce
“We are basically withholding the luxury of being a full-time worker from some families,” says Edwards.
These economic benefits of after-school programs are one reason that Edwards in June wrote a report for the left-leaning Roosevelt Institute proposing that the federal government fund a Child Development System that would provide every child the right to a safe environment while their parents are at work. Though it’s unlikely such a program would be implemented in this era of cost-cutting, Edwards says she was sick of the “scarcity mindset” that has led federal and state leadership to fail to address the long-term problem.
“What we have isn’t working,” she says. “The solution needs to be bigger.”
The problem, as Edwards sees it, is that the labor market does not match the hours of the school system, and never will. Not only do many working parents have to be at their jobs 9 to 5 most days, they also don’t get the summer off, like their kids do, and they have to work holidays where their children have a break.
After-school programs have other benefits for kids, she says—they provide a pressure-free space for children to explore their interests, whether it be sports they’re not good enough to make the team for or farm projects that they might not be able to pursue at school. With federal funds, more places could offer these after-school programs, she says, like libraries, museums, or parks.
There’s precedent for the government investing significantly in childcare, Edwards says: the Department of Defense operates the largest employer-sponsored childcare program in the U.S. Because members of the military often work unpredictable hours, this childcare includes before and after care, as well as summer care. It has helped promote service-member retention and has helped service members avoid missing work, according to a study from the Government Accountability Office. It has also allowed more military spouses to enter the workforce, helping support financial family well-being.
Without programming available to all kids, after-school care is yet another opportunity for kids of families with means to get ahead, further widening the divide between haves and have-nots in the U.S.
Andrew Mountford runs the Belmont After School Enrichment Collaborative, a nonprofit after-school program in Belmont, Mass., a suburb of Boston. The Belmont program recruits enough staff members–including sports, STEM, and environmental-science specialists–to allow it to accept everyone who applies. It can do that, Mountford says, because it offers many full-time, 40-hour-a-week jobs with full benefits. Employees spend the time they’re not with kids planning curriculum.
“We think this is valuable for our families and for society,” Mountford says, about having after-school enrichment programs for kids. “It might work for a kid to spend that after-school time in front of a screen, but it would be better if he were playing with other kids.”
Of course, this enrichment comes with a cost: the program in Belmont costs more than $7,000 a year for five days a week.
For now, most families are left doing what Elizabeth Anne Garrard has done: panicking and piecing care together the best they can.
Garrard has to be out of the house by 6:30 a.m. to meet her high school journalism students by 7. Her 7-year-old son’s elementary school, though, doesn’t accept kids until 7:30. In the afternoon, her job requires that she stay on campus until 3:30, which would get her home at 4. But her son’s school releases at 2.
This unfortunate timing became a nightmare when Garrard found out this summer that her son’s school’s before-care program was completely full and that the after-care program did not have room for students like her son, who has an autism spectrum disorder diagnosis and needs individualized attention.
“There are moments when I ask myself, ‘Am I going to have to quit my job? What am I going to do?’” says Garrard, a single mother in Florida whose son’s father died more than four years ago.
After many calls with her son’s principal, she finally found a slot in another after-care program within the school district that her son can be bused to. But it didn’t start until recently, leaving her for five weeks without care, and it doesn’t include mornings before school.
She’s begged an old friend to stop by her house on the way to work and wait with her son until the bus comes, and her employer has allowed her to come in late the days she doesn’t have help. But she’s been struck, throughout the whole experience, by the lack of options available to her.
“There has to be some kind of better solution,” she says. “Finding somewhere you feel that your child will be well-cared for a safe has been so much harder than I thought.”