Summer camp scramble: US families need it, but it can cost as much as a month’s rent

Summer camp had already begun for Tasmiha Khan’s two sons when a work contract unexpectedly ended. Money was suddenly tight for the freelance communications strategist – and the $1,300 price for the school district’s months-long summer camp became unaffordable. Khan had no choice but to pull her children out early.

To give them an enriching summer, Khan tried a few alternatives. An Arabic immersion program still had spots open, but Khan wasn’t impressed.

She occasionally takes them to swim lessons at a local community college for just $38 per child per week. But she has to be present for those twice-weekly, 35-minute sessions – which doesn’t give her much-needed time to work. “Honestly, America’s not sustainable for parents,” Khan said. “I’m leaning on grandma to help out because I’m very much burnt out.”

When school’s out for summer, working parents of K-12 children face an annual high-stakes and often high-cost scramble to cobble together activities. The result is “a really undercovered and also underfunded aspect of our safety net”, according to journalist Katherine Goldstein, mother of three and the creator of The Double Shift newsletter on parenting.

Fifty-five percent of all K-12 children, an estimated 30 million, participated in at least one form of summer enrichment program in 2024, according to that year’s National Summer Learning Association-American Camp Association summer experiences survey. But only 38% of children in lower-income families ($50,000 or less annually) did so, compared to 67% of children in upper-income households ($100,000 or more).

The solution for many families is to keep children at home and rely on friends and family to provide care. But camp can provide vital opportunities for socialization, learning and healthy food. Over six out of 10 lower income parents surveyed in 2024 wanted their children to have a camp experience. Yet, a third of US parents said that camp was financially out of reach.

“The kids who would most benefit from programming during the summer and having a safe place to be are not the ones who are going to summer camp,” Goldstein said.

The rise in camp attendance and cost

The US summer camp dates to approximately 150 years ago when wealthy families sent their children away from polluted cities to experience fresh air and outdoor activities, according to American Camp Association interim president and CEO, Henry DeHart.

In the last 20 years, “the biggest change is the rise in the interest in day camp”, he said. Local day camps and weekly enrichment courses combined to make up 42% of the programs cited in the 2024 survey, compared to only 11% for overnight camp.

Information about the cost of summer activities is hard to come by; it can vary widely according to the type of camp and location. However, the American Camp Association estimates that day camps cost between $73-87 per day per child, with overnight camps ranging from $150-173.

Goldstein, a resident of Durham, North Carolina, calculated what nine weeks of camp would cost for her three children this year. It came to $10,000. Even for her upper middle-class family, a season of camp requires careful budgeting to afford.

DeHart said that 93% of camps offer financial assistance. One such camp is Urban Roots in downtown Reno, Nevada, which runs eight- and nine-week programs for children aged five to 14 at its teaching farm and kitchen.

Thirty percent of all slots go to scholarship students, offered on a sliding scale, said Jenny Angius, executive director of development and operations. The cost this year is $295 per child per week, or $2,655 for all nine weeks. The average rent in Reno is $1,950 per month.

The scholarships can cover more than just tuition, such as camp supplies or even transportation support. All children receive free breakfast and lunch.

This summer, Urban Roots also implemented payment plans through the end of the year “so it doesn’t feel like it’s such a big hit for families, especially if they’re coming multiple weeks or if they’re sending multiple children”, Angius said.

Beyond the financial

Cost is not the only barrier, however.

Many day camps do not run as long as the traditional workday. As a primarily outdoor camp, Urban Roots begins at 7.30am but ends at 2.30pm, in part to avoid the worst of the summer heat. This summer is the first in its 15 years of operation that it has received funding to provide extended care inside – but only until 4pm.

Camps also rarely run all summer, requiring “a huge amount of mental load and logistics”, in Goldstein’s words, to put together a summer’s worth of programming.

It starts with registration. Goldstein knows of public programs in Durham that fill up within two minutes of registration opening. Last year, Khan, the Chicago-area mother, and a friend texted each other reminders to set alarms for 10am on the day camp registration opened to claim spots.

Since 2022, Emily Popek has created a public spreadsheet listing all area programs in and around New York’s Otsego county, where she lives with her husband and daughter. This year, it categorizes 67 programs by number of weeks, age group and registration date.

While that sounds like a wealth of options, only four of those programs run longer than a week. “Every summer has just been this patchwork of care,” Popek said. And the Oneonta Boys and Girls Club program used to be free but started charging $100 per child per week this year.

“Daycare was a second mortgage for us,” Popek said. “The cost of summer programs is basically comparable to that.”

Popek’s research inspired her to write an open letter to local officials in 2024 asking why no municipal or school district programs existed. She also surveyed more than 40 local parents about their summer camp struggles. By her count, 87% listed scheduling as a barrier – the same number who listed cost. A comparable number, 82%, reported taking off work to cover summer childcare. Forty-one percent of parents brought their children to work.

“The narrative from our community leaders is that their top priority is to make this a great place to raise a family,” Popek said. “[That] doesn’t just mean that we have a splash pad and some pretty banners hanging on Main Street … It means we have to invest in the infrastructure that actually supports families.”

Melissa Petro, whose seven-year-old son Oscar has generalized anxiety disorder and pathological demand avoidance, said: “Camps won’t even enroll kids like mine.” Her son needs a one-on-one aide. “He’s going to create havoc if he doesn’t have supervision,” she said. But camps won’t pay for or provide that service, and Petro estimates it would require at minimum $5,000.

So Petro and her husband become camp counselors for the six weeks his outdoor therapeutic school is closed. Because Oscar thrives outside, they usually visit the school campus. They take long hikes. He swims in the manmade pond and climbs trees. He makes art. But he misses out on the peer socialization he needs.

For those six weeks, Petro and her husband are essentially out of work. Last year, Petro had a book release in September but spent August with Oscar rather than working on promotion.

“Your whole life ends up revolving around accommodating your child,” she said.

Making a way

Anecdotal data suggests that parents are feeling the economic pinch even more this year.

“Day camps have started to fill a little bit more slowly,” DeHart said, noting that this is the first drop in enrollment rate since the pandemic.

Many parents are turning their shared struggles into communal support. Khan recently invited an old friend and her two-year-old daughter over for dinner and a trip to a nearby park. Her sons loved playing with the toddler, and Khan’s friend got some relief from parenting burnout.

Popek has found carpool partners while talking to other parents. “Being in community with other families has been the most uplifting thing for me,” she said.

Goldstein is trying something new this summer. With the $10,000 she would have spent for camp, plus the $4,000 cost of a week at a state beach, she has created her own program.

For the first half of the summer, a trusted babysitter is watching the children at home. Then, the family will spend five weeks in Costa Rica, including a month-long camp for the same price as a week-long program at home.

“I don’t see my solution as a systemic [one],” Goldstein stressed, noting that both she and her husband work at home under flexible conditions. “It’s more of an experiment within the confines of a broken system,” she said.

As Popek said: “No one’s coming to save us. We have to do it ourselves.”