Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. On a foggy May morning in East Hampton, donated racks of pint-sized children’s clothing and a fleet of Little Tikes Cozy Coupes decorated the entrance of a muted blue one-story building. Inside, beneath a giant skylight in the rotunda, toddlers squealed with delight as they zipped around Mr. Johnny, the music teacher, who strummed an acoustic guitar and played the harmonica. Moments later, the children settled on a gymnastics mat as he switched to the recorder. Blissfully unaware, they’re among the lucky few: Over 100 other local families are still waiting for a spot at the Eleanor Whitmore Early Childhood Center. In the popular imagination, the Hamptons are a playground for the ultrawealthy—a place where $97 lobster salads and a $200 cover for entry at a club garner little more than a shrug. But for thousands of working families—teachers, landscapers, restaurant workers—life is increasingly unsustainable. East Hampton is a federally designated child care desert, with nearly 12 percent of residents living in poverty, one of the highest rates in Suffolk County, according to East Hampton town supervisor Kathee Burke-Gonzalez. Many parents juggle multiple jobs, rely on informal day cares, and compete for limited affordable options. As the cost of living and housing in this seasonal enclave continue to rise—pushing families farther from their jobs and support systems—a child care crisis quietly unravels, forcing the local community to question: Who can afford to raise a child in the Hamptons? The American child care system has been correctly described as “crumbling” for years, but recently it has gotten worse. Federal pandemic aid to the sector expired in 2023, stripping an overburdened industry of support. Despite the well documented benefits of early education, families now pay more than ever as costs outpace inflation, says Sarah Rittling, executive director of the children’s advocacy organization First Five Years Fund. According to a 2025 report from Care.com, over half of families now spend 22 percent of their income on child care—an amount that can exceed the cost of rent. Mandatory teacher-to-child ratios and rising operational costs drive higher prices while access dwindles. In 2022, the Department of Labor reported that full-day care for one child could cost nearly $16,000, and infant care options are even more bleak. In New York state, infant care costs almost $20,000 annually, according to the Century Foundation. While the “Big, Beautiful Bill” includes provisions like expanded child tax credits and incentives for employer-sponsored care, Rittling, sounding measured, says their real-world impact will be “interesting” to see play out. In this landscape, a spot in a full-day, affordable program is a privilege. And in wealthy resort towns like East Hampton—where census data shows nearly 6 percent of the 29,000 total year-round residents are under 5—the contrast is stark. Founded initially as a Head Start program in 1969, the Eleanor Whitmore Early Childhood Center remains the only nonprofit, affordable full-day early education program on the East End. For $375 a week, the center serves over 100 children from 18 months to 4 years old, offering bilingual instruction to accommodate a growing Latino population, fresh meals from local farms like Amber Waves, a nationally recognized curriculum, and activities like tennis and gardening from 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. “My son comes home wanting to help with the vegetables and wanting to help garden,” Cristina Fonalledas, an East Hampton resident and Eleanor Whitmore parent, said of the center’s programming. “He has soccer, he has music … so all these extracurricular activities are incorporated in their day,” she added, noting the high expense of these activities outside the center. “I don’t know what we would do without the Eleanor Whitmore Center.” Nearly two-thirds of the center’s families live in extremely low-income households, with many receiving subsidized tuition through a mix of scholarships and county aid. “They’re mostly working in landscaping, or they’re doing house cleaning, or they’re hospitality service–oriented and labor-oriented,” says Eleanor Whitmore’s executive director, Tim Frazier. “A lot of them have one or two or even three jobs in order to maintain their life, just to live out of this area with a high cost of housing and also the high cost of food.” Burke-Gonzalez says that in 2025, the town of East Hampton awarded the center $185,000 in grants—the most given to any nonprofit. However, the center still relies heavily on donations and struggles to compete for attention amid the Hamptons’ packed summer fundraising calendar. “We have a battle,” Eleanor Whitmore’s development director Joan Overlock said. “A lot of people think, Oh, East Hampton, everybody’s rich in the Hamptons. They don’t need money,” she adds. The center’s struggle lies in “trying to overcome that perception.” Eleanor Whitmore’s current goal is to raise funds for a new infant program that is launching in September to meet growing demand. Though a handful of care facilities exist on the East End, infant care options are exceptionally scarce. Project Most in Montauk is the only licensed provider between Southampton and Montauk, says the project’s executive director, Rebecca Morgan Taylor. Despite the 30-minute, four-leg commute, many families make the trip for a nurturing, licensed environment. When COVID hit, second-home buyers fleeing New York City flooded the Hamptons. Developers began flipping properties that had served as year-round rentals to the local community into luxury short-term vacation homes. Inflation followed, further straining families. “The discrepancies and the differences can be very alarming,” says Jameson McWilliams, an East Hampton resident and parent at Eleanor Whitmore, describing the post-COVID changes reshaping the area. For McWilliams, care costs feel like “a mortgage payment.” This rapid gentrification has exacerbated the region’s need for full-time, affordable care and early education. Dennis Fabiszak, executive director of the East Hampton Library and father of a 4-year-old enrolled at Eleanor Whitmore, sees this reality daily. He says that during the summer, luxury cars line up outside the library, full of children with au pairs. “The income disparity that we have out here has sort of priced the babysitters or nannies way beyond what we could afford,” he explains, citing average rates of $35 an hour. By contrast, Eleanor Whitmore’s reasonable tuition includes two meals and snacks. “That [difference], it’s a life-saving thing,” Fabiszak adds. For his family, the center has made a dual income possible. “Not only is our daughter getting a great education, having a wonderful time, and meeting new friends,” he said, “but my wife is also able to work more hours, help more hours, and really be involved the way we want to be in the community.” One mother of two, who asked to remain nameless, has spent the past five years hustling to afford Eleanor Whitmore for her sons. Before securing a spot, she relied on a home day care and paid in cash. An insurance worker by day, she picks up additional gigs in catering and events during the summer months to insulate during the “job desert” winter. Having reliable, affordable care has given her the flexibility to work full-time and take on extra hours when she can. Still, the pressure to keep up in such a visibly affluent area is unrelenting. “You keep going, and you just throw it on a credit card and don’t think about it, because you don’t want to seem like the person that can’t,” she said. As demand for child care grows, Eleanor Whitmore adapts, with a staggered schedule. But staffing this way can be challenging, especially when employees can’t afford to live near the center, and commute from towns like Southampton or Hampton Bays, which in the summer can be over an hour. Though staffing issues due to housing demands are a problem across all industries in the Hamptons, Frazier retains staff by raising hourly wages and offering benefits to ensure consistency and quality. The issue goes beyond commuting. In the Northwest Woods of East Hampton, homeowners recently opposed a proposed affordable housing development. “Neighbors lobbied and wrote letters to the newspapers and county government, and a majority of them were second-home owners,” says Burke-Gonzalez. “Staffing is an issue because housing is an issue and child care is an issue. The result is that year-round working people, including teachers, nurses, restaurant workers, and people we all rely on, continue to be priced out. That has real consequences for families, for local businesses, and for the future of our town.” Mercedes Counihan, program director at Eleanor Whitmore, is candid about the contradiction: “We are so blessed that we have people come in here like they do, because it does feed into our economy,” she said. “When people hear the term affordable housing, the misconception is that it only applies to low-income families. In reality, especially in areas like ours, affordable housing is essential for a wide range of working families, many of whom are of solid middle-class income.” At Project Most, Taylor has seen similar issues. “We have full-time staff members, some of whom are 30 to 35, still living with their parents,” she said. “We lost four staff members at the day care center this spring because somebody needed a personal nanny and said, ‘I can pay you more money. Come work for me.’ ” However, Taylor questions whether such seasonal jobs offer stability or financial continuity in the offseason. Eleanor Whitmore follows a school-year calendar; it now also operates a summer program to support parents and give staff reliable hours. “We have a consistent staff that I feel are treated well and paid well; they love coming here,” Frazier says. “They love the fact that these kids just eat them alive every day.” These staffing trends reflect a deeper economic imbalance in the area where the gap can be measured by food insecurity. “We’re taking on three new pantries this year,” said Meredith Arm, executive director of Share the Harvest Farm, which donates fresh produce to Eleanor Whitmore. She notes that a Hampton Bays pantry recently doubled its reach, from 3,000 to 7,000 families annually, one of the largest surges in families looking for support. “It’s something that’s kind of very well hidden,” says Arm. “It’s the workforce out here that are the people that are really struggling,” she said. “It’s just so hard to stay afloat.” At a recent fundraiser celebrating the launch of Eleanor Whitmore’s new infant care program—which already has a waitlist of over 50 babies, says Frazier—women in floral sundresses checked in guests and managed the silent auction as a video montage played. Caterers passed mushroom quiche and chicken tacos, and board members honored Peter Van Scoyoc, the former East Hampton town supervisor, for his years of advocacy and support during the pandemic. The $20,000 goal for the fundraiser, mostly to be used for equipment like cribs and high chairs, had yet to be met. There still remains a gap of $3,000. But despite the charming ambiance at Mulford Farm, this wasn’t a typical Hamptons gala with celebrity donors and oversized checks. “Our area, with its wealth and influence, should be leading trends in economic development and community support, but we’re not—why?” asked Eleanor Whitmore’s granddaughter, board member Mariah Whitmore. “The center is one of the few places in the Hamptons where the wealthy and working class mix,” especially during Eleanor Whitmore’s summer camp, which enrolls a broader range of children from various socioeconomic backgrounds. That’s the contradiction of the Hamptons in 2025: It’s a place where immense wealth and great need coexist but rarely interact. But unless more people with means acknowledge that reality, the people who keep this community running may no longer be able to live here. Though parents and volunteers keep spreading the word, sustainable support remains elusive. “I want to give everyone the same experience,” says program director Mercedes Counihan. “Education should never depend on whether the parents hold affluent positions or work overtime to make ends meet at a local shop.”