

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.

Childcare worker Debbie James-Dean sits with children at a Kids Are Us Learning Center in Washington, D.C., on March 24, 2017.
Accessible childcare offers long-term benefits for children, families, and society, including improved educational outcomes, greater workforce participation, and reduced dependence on the social safety net.
On a good day in December 1983, I cooked Vienna sausages and grits on a borrowed kerosene heater that—in my poverty-stricken state—felt like another mouth to feed. Every day I had to buy fuel for it.
I’d vowed to lift myself and two boys out of destitution as soon as I could, either by getting a job or returning to school. But a severe lack of resources, primarily childcare for my toddler, made it nearly impossible to envision either.
Our financial situation was far from secure compared to what it had been the year before. My partner and I both worked, and we enjoyed a comfortable life in a lovely neighborhood. However, his struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam led to unpredictable violent outbursts, prompting me to flee with the children for our safety.
Knowing my two-year-old would be properly looked after enabled me to not only attend my classes, but focus on my studies with peace of mind.
With no concrete plan, we ended up briefly homeless, relying on a moving truck and strangers for shelter before ending up in a tiny, unequipped unit in a dilapidated cement tenement.
Sylvia, a friend at church, taught me about Pell Grants, Supplement Education Opportunity Grants (SEOG), and other tools to help me afford an education. Thanks to her, I decided to attend community college.
Sylvia also had the answer to my biggest looming concern—the availability of childcare for my toddler. She said the cost could be covered by a government-subsidized program. And she was right.
Without that support, I couldn’t have taken advantage of any of the other aid. Knowing my two-year-old would be properly looked after enabled me to not only attend my classes, but focus on my studies with peace of mind.
During my second year of college, I completed two unpaid internships: one in a television newsroom, and another at a city lifestyle magazine. That experience helped me get a piece published in a major newspaper, which led to opportunities with local publications. My income increased and stabilized when I became a newspaper staff writer.
Affordable childcare was the key. To this day, nearly 40 years later, I’m still grateful for having received that support and the opportunities for professional growth that came my way. Affordable childcare is bound to be the answer to others’ success, as well.
Accessible childcare offers long-term benefits for children, families, and society, including improved educational outcomes, greater workforce participation, and reduced dependence on the social safety net. But unfortunately, the cost of childcare has skyrocketed since I had young kids. Some families pay up to 30% of their income toward childcare, making it unaffordable almost everywhere in the United States.
I urge members of Congress to fund, support, and expand childcare initiatives. The pandemic-era stabilization funds that saved up to 10 million childcare slots ended last fall, threatening the childcare sector as well as the families, children, and businesses that depend on it. And we’re facing another cliff this fall.
This spring, Community Change Action organized the third Annual National Day Without Childcare, which gave a glimpse of what would happen if providers were all forced to close their doors for good. As a parent and grandparent, I stand in solidarity with them.
If we don’t make a change, all of us will pay the price.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
On a good day in December 1983, I cooked Vienna sausages and grits on a borrowed kerosene heater that—in my poverty-stricken state—felt like another mouth to feed. Every day I had to buy fuel for it.
I’d vowed to lift myself and two boys out of destitution as soon as I could, either by getting a job or returning to school. But a severe lack of resources, primarily childcare for my toddler, made it nearly impossible to envision either.
Our financial situation was far from secure compared to what it had been the year before. My partner and I both worked, and we enjoyed a comfortable life in a lovely neighborhood. However, his struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam led to unpredictable violent outbursts, prompting me to flee with the children for our safety.
Knowing my two-year-old would be properly looked after enabled me to not only attend my classes, but focus on my studies with peace of mind.
With no concrete plan, we ended up briefly homeless, relying on a moving truck and strangers for shelter before ending up in a tiny, unequipped unit in a dilapidated cement tenement.
Sylvia, a friend at church, taught me about Pell Grants, Supplement Education Opportunity Grants (SEOG), and other tools to help me afford an education. Thanks to her, I decided to attend community college.
Sylvia also had the answer to my biggest looming concern—the availability of childcare for my toddler. She said the cost could be covered by a government-subsidized program. And she was right.
Without that support, I couldn’t have taken advantage of any of the other aid. Knowing my two-year-old would be properly looked after enabled me to not only attend my classes, but focus on my studies with peace of mind.
During my second year of college, I completed two unpaid internships: one in a television newsroom, and another at a city lifestyle magazine. That experience helped me get a piece published in a major newspaper, which led to opportunities with local publications. My income increased and stabilized when I became a newspaper staff writer.
Affordable childcare was the key. To this day, nearly 40 years later, I’m still grateful for having received that support and the opportunities for professional growth that came my way. Affordable childcare is bound to be the answer to others’ success, as well.
Accessible childcare offers long-term benefits for children, families, and society, including improved educational outcomes, greater workforce participation, and reduced dependence on the social safety net. But unfortunately, the cost of childcare has skyrocketed since I had young kids. Some families pay up to 30% of their income toward childcare, making it unaffordable almost everywhere in the United States.
I urge members of Congress to fund, support, and expand childcare initiatives. The pandemic-era stabilization funds that saved up to 10 million childcare slots ended last fall, threatening the childcare sector as well as the families, children, and businesses that depend on it. And we’re facing another cliff this fall.
This spring, Community Change Action organized the third Annual National Day Without Childcare, which gave a glimpse of what would happen if providers were all forced to close their doors for good. As a parent and grandparent, I stand in solidarity with them.
If we don’t make a change, all of us will pay the price.
On a good day in December 1983, I cooked Vienna sausages and grits on a borrowed kerosene heater that—in my poverty-stricken state—felt like another mouth to feed. Every day I had to buy fuel for it.
I’d vowed to lift myself and two boys out of destitution as soon as I could, either by getting a job or returning to school. But a severe lack of resources, primarily childcare for my toddler, made it nearly impossible to envision either.
Our financial situation was far from secure compared to what it had been the year before. My partner and I both worked, and we enjoyed a comfortable life in a lovely neighborhood. However, his struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam led to unpredictable violent outbursts, prompting me to flee with the children for our safety.
Knowing my two-year-old would be properly looked after enabled me to not only attend my classes, but focus on my studies with peace of mind.
With no concrete plan, we ended up briefly homeless, relying on a moving truck and strangers for shelter before ending up in a tiny, unequipped unit in a dilapidated cement tenement.
Sylvia, a friend at church, taught me about Pell Grants, Supplement Education Opportunity Grants (SEOG), and other tools to help me afford an education. Thanks to her, I decided to attend community college.
Sylvia also had the answer to my biggest looming concern—the availability of childcare for my toddler. She said the cost could be covered by a government-subsidized program. And she was right.
Without that support, I couldn’t have taken advantage of any of the other aid. Knowing my two-year-old would be properly looked after enabled me to not only attend my classes, but focus on my studies with peace of mind.
During my second year of college, I completed two unpaid internships: one in a television newsroom, and another at a city lifestyle magazine. That experience helped me get a piece published in a major newspaper, which led to opportunities with local publications. My income increased and stabilized when I became a newspaper staff writer.
Affordable childcare was the key. To this day, nearly 40 years later, I’m still grateful for having received that support and the opportunities for professional growth that came my way. Affordable childcare is bound to be the answer to others’ success, as well.
Accessible childcare offers long-term benefits for children, families, and society, including improved educational outcomes, greater workforce participation, and reduced dependence on the social safety net. But unfortunately, the cost of childcare has skyrocketed since I had young kids. Some families pay up to 30% of their income toward childcare, making it unaffordable almost everywhere in the United States.
I urge members of Congress to fund, support, and expand childcare initiatives. The pandemic-era stabilization funds that saved up to 10 million childcare slots ended last fall, threatening the childcare sector as well as the families, children, and businesses that depend on it. And we’re facing another cliff this fall.
This spring, Community Change Action organized the third Annual National Day Without Childcare, which gave a glimpse of what would happen if providers were all forced to close their doors for good. As a parent and grandparent, I stand in solidarity with them.
If we don’t make a change, all of us will pay the price.