When I was 13, caring for children became my first source of income. I took care of kids after school, on weekends, and in the summer, not because it was a passion (though I loved it and still do), but because it was a necessity. I grew up providing care for families in my neighborhood—many of them working-class. These parents treated me like a person. They checked in on my life, made sure I got home safely, and, most importantly, they saw my labor as valuable. In those households, I was seen as part of the family.

But while I’ve had wonderful experiences with families from all backgrounds, caregiving in wealthy homes has, more often than not, been a different reality. I’ve seen parents raise an eyebrow when I mention that childcare paid for my college textbooks. I’ve had close calls with COVID and other illnesses because families failed to mention they were sick before I arrived. And I’ve nearly brought home bed bugs after families assumed I wouldn’t mind providing care in their infested,three-story, multi-million dollar homes.

I’m not alone in these experiences.

Camila*, a Hispanic childcare provider, shared a poignant moment with me. “I was playing Barbies with the boy…he was seven…our Barbies decided to take a tan. I had my Barbie say, ‘Oh, I’m gonna go inside the house because I’m starting to get too dark. I don’t want to get too dark with my tan.’ He stopped playing, looked over at me, and said, ‘Do you tan all the time?’ I said, ‘No, why?’ He said, ‘Because you’re dark.’ And I said, ‘No, my parents are Hispanic, from the Dominican Republic, but no, this is my natural color.’” 

Moments like these highlight a pivotal issue: childcare providers are often tasked with educating children on race, class, and more. We are frequently treated as a catch-all for parenting duties without receiving the respect or compensation that aligns with this responsibility. A 2021 study by the Economic Policy Institute found that the median wage for childcare workers is just $12.24 per hour, far below the median wage for all workers in the U.S., underscoring the financial undervaluation of this critical labor (Economic Policy Institute, 2021).

The treatment of childcare providers varies widely across class lines. For many affluent families, childcare work is often seen as a mere service, no different from dry cleaning or grocery delivery. This class divide manifests not only in the way childcare providers are treated but also in the expectations of their labor.

For example, Jessica*, a nanny in the Upper East Side, shared her experience, saying, “It feels like the wealthier they are, the less giving they are…not just in finances, but in kindness as well. There are a few families I’ve worked for who are generous and also wealthy, but I worked for a family with two boys in the Upper East Side, and it was clear that I wasn’t seen as her [the mother’s] equal. I was seen as less than because I was her nanny.” She contrasted this with her experience working for a family that wasn’t wealthy, saying, “They’re making dinner and offering me to eat with them—so generous, so giving. With the other [wealthy family], I’m making them dinner and doing so many other chores. I’m a housekeeper, nanny, and chef, and don’t get paid for it.” Camila, reflecting on similar circumstances, said, “I’m not a housemate. I’m an educator, a caregiver. That’s a fine line. Having that boundary with families was pretty hard to do from time to time.”

This condition reflects the reality for many childcare providers in wealthier households, where the value of their labor is often minimized. In contrast, in lower-income households, childcare is a necessity, and the people providing that care—whether it’s an older sibling, a grandparent, or a hired caregiver—are often seen as part of the support system. Annette Lareau’s Unequal Childhoods explores how class and race influence family life and caregiving practices, illustrating that in working-class and immigrant families, caregiving is typically a more communal responsibility, often involving extended family members. 

These caregivers, many of whom are women of color, are treated as part of the “chosen family,” a network of kin and close family friends who take on nurturing roles traditionally attributed to parents. In contrast, in wealthier, predominantly white families, the focus tends to be on the nuclear family structure, where caregiving is more likely to be outsourced to paid professionals who are viewed as providing a simple service. 

The race and class dynamics in these households often create a power imbalance where caregiving is seen as a service job rather than a respected, reciprocal role. Many of the childcare providers in affluent areas of New York are women of color, many of whom are immigrants. According to the Migration Policy Institute, immigrants make up 40% of the early childhood education and care (ECEC) workforce in New York, which underscores the immense role they play in this sector. However, these women are treated as invisible and inferior to the families they work for. 

Camila shared her experience working with a wealthy family in Westchester, New York: “I had already graduated from undergrad with a degree in Psychology, born in this country, English is my first language, I also speak Spanish and Portuguese. At one point, the daughter was like, ‘You know my mom’s your boss?’ And I said, ‘Yes, she is.’ She replied, ‘So we’re [her and her brother] kinda your boss, and you need to treat us great. We can fire you at any time, and you’re not from this country.’” Camila explained, They [the children] thought that if you were a nanny, you were automatically from a foreign country. There was a lot of teaching to do.” 

Camila went on to explain how working with affluent families impacted her as a working mother later in her career. “I was promised to have my job even after having my child and having the same hours I worked prior to my parental leave. Once my parental leave came up, that all changed. The family wanted to change my hours, pushing them later into the evening. They were okay with me bringing my child to work until they weren’t.” This abrupt shift in expectations illustrates the lack of stability and respect that can come with working for a wealthy family.

The invisibility of care work in wealthy households is one of the biggest issues in this dynamic. It often goes unrecognized and undervalued, with many affluent families expecting flexibility without reciprocation. Childcare providers in these settings are often given last-minute schedules, paid under the table with no job security, and let go without notice. This is especially true for nannies of color, who face additional layers of discrimination.

According to a report by the National Domestic Workers Alliance, 23% of childcare providers are paid below minimum wage, and 67% have experienced wage theft. These numbers are even worse for childcare providers of color, who not only face the challenge of being underpaid but are also often treated as second-class citizens in the homes they work in. “It’s hard because you know your work is valuable, but the families just don’t acknowledge it,” Jessica*, an Indian daycare worker in a wealthy area of Chicago, said. “You’re treated like you’re not even in the same category as them.”

Louise*, a former nanny in Boston, shared a particularly troubling experience: “When I did AmeriCorps, I made almost no money and was providing care for a wealthy family. Usually they were fine (would call me an Uber or have me order food). The gig was for two little girls. One day, we were playing and…one of them just, like, reached out and touched both my breasts and squeezed. It was so strange. I said that wasn’t a place where we touch other people. The rest of the day was fine, and I put them to bed. When the parents got home, I told the mom what happened and she said something like ‘Oh! Are you okay? I mean, she’s just a little kid.’” Louise was uncomfortable with the mom’s nonchalant response and found that after the incident, she was no longer given an Uber home after work.These types of experiences highlight the deep dehumanization of care work.

Where Do We Go From Here?

The way we treat childcare workers is a reflection of how we value care itself. If we see providing childcare as “unskilled” labor, we justify underpaying and undervaluing the people doing that work. But if we recognize childcare as an essential part of society—one that requires skill, patience, and deep emotional labor—we begin to see caregivers as the professionals they are.

Here’s what needs to change:

1. Fair Pay & Contracts: Childcare providers deserve fair hours, livable wages, and formal contracts that outline their rights. 
2. Respect as a Standard: Parents should recognize that childcare isn’t “extra help”—it’s a real job that requires expertise and skill. That means honoring agreed-upon hours, paying on time, and treating childcare providers with the same respect they’d give any other professional.
3. Challenging Biases: Affluent families, especially white families, need to examine their biases when hiring caregivers. Who do they trust, and why? Who do they assume will “fit” into their household, and what is that assumption based on? Are they equating professionalism with a particular race, accent, or background, and how does that shape their decisions? What behavior are they teaching their children when it comes to race, class, bodily respect, and more? 

Care providers, especially providers of color, are too often treated as if they are less than human—disposable, undervalued, and unworthy of the same respect and dignity as the families they support. Their time, boundaries, and well-being are frequently disregarded, as if their sole purpose is to serve others rather than to live full lives of their own.

Camila* said it best: “I feel like a lot of times families think that, as a nanny, our lives revolve around theirs. We go back to our day to day. We have things we want to do on the weekend. We have vacations we want planned […] Our lives continue once we leave work.”