“I had to let him know I couldn’t be his dad, but I could be his friend,” said Padia, 49. 

The boy’s request made Padia, who was 18 at the time, realize the “impact that these programs make on young people,” and it’s stuck with him for over 30 years.

“Not every kid has both parents at home. Not every kid has somebody waiting for them at home after school. So, we give them a place to go,” said Padia, who currently serves as a recreation administrator in Arizona. “That’s what these programs mean to young people.”

That young boy was one of the lucky ones, a new study shows.   

Thousands of American families, mostly low-income and families of color, face persistent barriers enrolling their children in after school and summer programs, according to a report released earlier this month from the nonprofit advocacy group . 

The report found in a survey of more than 30,500 parents earlier this year  about 77% who want to enroll their children in after school programs can’t — most citing cost, accessibility and availability as the main issues. 

The “unmet demand” of after school programs affects about 22.6 million children and is expected to worsen unless states take action, according to the report, as President Donald Trump’s eliminates more than $1.3 billion in federal funds dedicated to these programs. 

The report found that 96% of families in the highest income bracket enrolled their child in some type of out-of-school-activity, “including organized sports and special lessons,” which was 30 percentage points higher than families in the lowest income bracket.

Access to a variety of programs often comes at a cost high-income families can afford, while lower wealth communities are more dependent on programs that are subsidized by federal, state or local funding streams. 

The report found that high income families spent about nine times more – about $6,500 per child – than low-income families who spend around $730 on average for after school programs. The spending gap has increased since 2020 when high-income families were outspending lower income families by five times as much, according to the report.

Though after school programs were one of the top investments when schools received an influx of COVID-19 funds to support learning loss, the report argued that “federal funding has not kept pace with demand” since – which limits opportunities and continues to shut families out.

“When families can’t access afterschool programs, we all pay a price. We cannot afford the opportunities lost for youth to realize their potential, for working parents to provide for their families,” wrote Afterschool Alliance Executive Director Jodi Grant and Lisa Lucheta, the organization’s board chair, in the report. “Millions of students are being left behind, costing our country dearly now and dampening our prospects for the future.”

Grant, at a news conference in mid-October, added that while federal funding is “only a small percentage of the overall spending in after school, it is absolutely key to helping our low-income families access programs in the after school world.”

The report also found:

• About 84% of low-income families, and 73% of middle-income families, don’t have access to after school programs compared to 59% of high-income families.
• About half of low- and middle-income parents would enroll their children in a program if it was readily accessible.  
• Unmet demand is highest for Black, Latino and Native American children which has grown between 2020 and 2025 by seven, five and eight percentage points respectively. 

Most parents surveyed recognized the benefits after school programs provide, ranging from keeping students off screens and out of trouble, developing better relationships with their peers and supporting mental health. But it’s often hard to find programs to fit their budgets or that are conveniently located.

Fifty-six percent of families said the cost of after school programs were “an important factor preventing them from enrolling their child.” Nearly half also said their child did not have transportation to and from the programs. 

For families who did have their child enrolled in a program, a quarter of them said they had been on a waitlist; and more than 60% of those same parents said the wait was longer than a month.

“After school programs are seen as extra recreation programs … that are not necessary, not essential, but the harsh reality is that these programs provide so much development for young people,” Padia said. “When you talk about what these programs can provide to communities — it’s resources.”

The report cited the grant as the only “exclusive” federal funding stream into after school and summer programs. 

Investment into the grant program, however, has remained the same since 2022. When adjusted for inflation, “the federal dollars going to support our low-income families has decreased,” Grant said.

Earlier this year, Trump’s administration withheld , which was later released to states. But advocates worry the money is on the chopping block again, which means state officials are being called upon to step up. 

“There’s 27 states that have state funding streams. We want to get to all 50,” Grant said.

Washington D.C. in the largest percentage of students involved in programs, with 38% of K-12 students compared to the national average of 13%. D.C. also was named as the top leader in accessibility, which was defined by states that have prioritized funding for transportation and expanding opportunities in areas with limited options.

The report credited the city for its “significant investments,” in after school programming over the past eight years, including over $100 million of funding in its Office of Out of School Time Grants and Youth Outcomes. 

Hawaii, South Dakota, California and Connecticut followed as top states with the highest percentage of students involved in out-of-school programs. Kansas, New Mexico, Alaska and South Dakota were also highlighted as states leading in accessibility.  

Trump’s current budget proposal would consolidate 18 education grants, including the 21st Century Community Learning Centers, into one general $2 billion funding stream. 

The Afterschool Alliance said the proposal, if passed, would cut funding for education programs .

What do you say now? I think you must — we must — try to remind ourselves of the depth of the loss. To insist that we not lose sight of the stakes involved at Robb Elementary School.

When each of my children was born, I sat up late in the hospital, feeling the rushing currents of reality. It was as if the elemental aspects of life were magnified, every emotion twice as strong, gravity enhanced to make motion seem impossible, my leg muscles inexplicably strong enough to spring up whenever the baby cried out. Each time, I wrote it all down, trying to capture the feelings in the halo of that moment. “[Humans] are best when we are creators…” . “From time to time we produce such shining potential that the daily grind of human life becomes not just tolerable, but comprehensible. From time to time, we produce miracles.” 

That’s the real reason for doing right by kids. We talk, particularly in education policy, about the demographic imperative of preparing kids for the jobs of the future or of raising standards and achievement for participating in a global workforce. It’s not that those things are unimportant. It’s just that children already warrant our love, protection, and investment simply because they are children. They are uncertain promises made to a hazy future — we owe them the very best we can offer because children are the acme of human creativity, the greatest thing humans can make.

So: what do we do for them now? How do we escape this pattern before the next tragedy sounds? And why is it so hard? 

You should know by now, but just in case, it bears insisting: the United States is the only place in the developed world where events like these regularly happen. As part of a sobering analysis of gun violence data, The Washington Post’s , “In 2019, there were 29 kids under 5 shot and killed in the United States for every kid under 5 shot and killed in other high-income countries globally.” — more than car crashes, drug-related issues, illness, drowning or anything else. 

In the wake of the tragedy in Uvalde, as has become macabre custom, we are hearing some politicians suggest that the real American problem is that we lack sufficient weaponry to deter mass shooters, including those targeting schools. And yet, . What’s more, the United States is already awash in guns. . By far. 

Guns are barbarically easy to access in our country. That appears to be the key variable — that’s why your American child is more likely to die from a bullet than anything else. That’s the cause of this uniquely depraved, repetitive tide of violence in the United States. That’s why there will be another shooting in another school that is at least as bad as Uvalde’s, at least as bad as the horrific massacre of children at Sandy Hook Elementary School in 2012. If more — and more readily accessible — guns were going to solve the problem, it already would have happened. 

What are we going to do? What are we willing to do differently? 

A parable about American democracy and its recent past: my scientist father introduced me to politics and public policy through climate change. Throughout the 1990s, he got involved in various forms of local environmental activism and dashed off letters to our congressman. “The climate science is settled,” he’d tell me. “It’s now just a question of whether we humans want to actually run the global experiment [keeping emitting higher and higher levels of carbon] and test whether the science is right.” 

U.S. Rep. Fred Upton (R-MI) would send back form letters explaining that the congressman cared deeply about the environment, that he understood that there were strong views on this issue, but that he also believed it was important to “have the debate” about whether climate change was a real problem. 

My dad would shake his head as he read this to us. “We’ve already had the debate,” he’d exhale. “The science has been conclusive for years.”

This was the 1990s. It was right around the time that conservatives began lampooning Al Gore as “Ozone Man.” It was a solid 20 years before Sen. James Inhofe (R-OK) of Congress to “prove” that climate change wasn’t a concern. More people and more politicians are paying attention now. But mostly, the country is floating along, some of us hoping that the data are wrong, others , and most of us acting as though somehow things will get better without us doing particularly much. 

The problem goes well beyond climate change.

I’ve written a few times in recent years that education reform’s receding political tide has left education policy adrift. Conservative politicians have largely retreated to a world where evolving versions of “school choice” are their only policy tool, even as . Liberals have coalesced around various proposals to invest more in public education, albeit usually without meaningful efforts to reform the inequities inherent in education systems. 

First: The point is not to equate the two positions like some . The point is that everyone in public education has on making the system fairer. There is little appetite for overhauling how schools are measured or run or improved. At this point, we’re acknowledging that our schools are fundamentally unfair but mostly just hoping that this will resolve itself without requiring any substantive, controversial effort from the rest of us. 

The flattening of education policy thinking is emblematic of our national governing sclerosis. Pick a major issue — climate change, the COVID-19 pandemic, mass shootings, et al. The standard American response now is to muddle through, incapable of mounting a sustained push to overhaul our public policies. When was the last time the country faced a major social challenge and collectively acted to address it? . 

It’s fashionable to blame this on a dearth of civic education and correspondingly waning public spiritedness. Conservatives have an idea here: They are exploring whether faith in American representative government can be revived by banning books and instruction that teach children about the past sins of American representative government. The last Republican presidential administration converted this instinct into — censorship in the name of inculcating children with “patriotic history.”

And indeed, the flagging of faith in our democracy does stem from the presence of evidence, but it’s not the historical record that’s to blame. Americans feel as though nothing can be done because we have grown accustomed to nothing being done. We have learned that our social problems are insuperable. Never mind that other countries — essentially all of them — have solved the problem of mass shootings. Our public institutions keep teaching us that we must simply accept these crises, that their worsening is inevitable. So far, as with climate change, conservatives seem unwilling to do anything serious to address this problem. 

So perhaps conservatives can now expand their efforts to defend American children from information about American shortcomings — by banning any discussion of recent massacres in school. If this sounds far-fetched, note that, , the country prevented the federally funded National Center for Injury Prevention and Control from researching gun violence. 

But it is hard to produce patriotic love for a country by hiding facts about it. Mass shootings keep happening. keep becoming inconveniently more common. Hyper unequal schools keep producing unfair opportunities and unequal outcomes for American children. All of this is hard to hide. At some point, our collective failure to do anything to change the rhythm of our social problems becomes a norm too obvious to deny. 

How does representative government fail? One way is when it repeatedly proves to the public that it cannot adequately represent their preferences and address their common problems. 

What are we going to do? Will we really just meander on, aimlessly trudging towards — and through — our next collective failure?

We won’t make it harder to get access to guns. Not for young adults, not for people who can’t pass a background check, not for anyone. We won’t impose limits on who has access to guns designed specifically for massacring humans. We won’t impose new limits on where people can legally carry guns. We’ll just float along, hoping that this was the last time that this pattern will repeat, that the drumbeat will stop in this latest bloodstained classroom. 

To bring a child into this world is to celebrate the full promise of human possibility. But it is also to accept a host of duties — to be vulnerable enough to take charge of a lived project that is not your own, even if it is in your care for a while. For this project requires you to risk your future comfort, happiness and safety by placing some piece of it in your child’s hands. Sometimes their lives will validate all of your work and suffering and love, but other times, they will hurt and you will be powerless to protect them — or you — from that pain. 

It’s beyond tragic that we have failed to protect families from these crushing losses in Uvalde and before them, Oxford Township in Michigan and Parkland, Florida and Newtown, Connecticut (and, and, and). But it’s somehow even worse that we appear willing to keep adding to our tally, waiting for the next time, accepting that nothing is the very best we can do.