By Lenice C. Emanuel, MLA, NewsOne

The Trump administration’s draft proposal to let married, single-income households draw from the Child Care and Development Fund (CCDF) is being framed by its architects as a matter of fairness, as an end to what Heritage Foundation policy writer Roger Severino calls discrimination against stay-at-home parents. But fairness is not a neutral concept when the pool of money being redistributed was never large enough to meet existing need. In a state like Alabama, where working parents are already being turned away, redirecting a portion of that same finite fund toward households that keep a parent home does not create a new benefit. It reallocates scarcity. And scarcity, once reallocated, tends to fall hardest on the families who had the least cushion to begin with, disproportionately Black families, single parents, unmarried couples, and kinship caregivers who do not fit the household model the rule rewards.

A State Already Rationing Care

This debate is not theoretical in Alabama. As of May 8, 2026, the Alabama Department of Human Resources began placing all new Child Care Assistance applications on a wait list, filling openings from that list on a first-come, first-served basis as slots become available, with only limited exceptions for foster care, protective services, and JOBS Program participants. This was less a new policy than the return of an old one: for nearly two decades before 2018, Alabama maintained a chronic subsidy waiting list because available funding could not meet demand, and at its 2017 peak more than 6,632 children were waiting, some for months or years. The reinstated waitlist follows a separate federal rule change, effective July 2026, that rescinded several 2024 protections and handed decisions like copay caps and provider payment methods back to individual states.

Even in a typical, non-waitlisted year, the fund does not reach everyone who qualifies; roughly 30 percent of Alabama children eligible for subsidized care through the federal block grant actually receive it. Against that backdrop, the proposed federal rule would add a wholly new eligible population, married, single-income households, to a program Alabama cannot currently fund for the working parents it was built to serve. There is no version of that addition that does not mean longer waits or tighter rationing for the families already on the list.

Whose Family Counts?

The eligibility design at the center of this rule, married, with one spouse working at least 35 hours a week, does more than draw an income line. It draws a marital and structural line, and that line does not fall evenly across race, class, or family type.

Nationally, the gap is stark: 64 percent of Black children live in single-parent families, compared with 24 percent of white children, according to 2023 Census data compiled by the Annie E. Casey Foundation. American Indian and Alaska Native children follow closely behind Black children, while Latino and multiracial children fall in between. In Alabama specifically, about 39 percent of children lived in single-parent families as of 2023, a rate high enough that a marriage-conditioned benefit excludes a large share of the state’s children outright, before race is even factored. Layer the national racial gap onto that Alabama baseline, and the practical effect becomes clear: a policy that channels new subsidy dollars specifically to married households will, as a matter of demographic math, direct more of that money toward white two-parent families and less toward Black families, even when both are equally low-income and equally in need of care.

The married-couple requirement also excludes several other family structures common in Alabama. Unmarried parents, cohabiting or not, do not qualify, even if one stays home. LGBTQ+ families face a narrower and more uncertain path: a Heritage Foundation architect of the policy has suggested that married same-sex couples would likely qualify under existing Supreme Court precedent, but that assumes marriage in the first place, and it does nothing for LGBTQ+ parents who are unmarried, single, or navigating separate barriers around fostering, adoption, or legal parentage recognition. 

And the rule offers nothing to the roughly 59,000 grandparents in Alabama who are fully responsible for raising their grandchildren, part of a broader 160,000 children living in relative-headed households statewide. These kinship caregivers are often older, on fixed incomes, and returning to work or caregiving roles they never planned for, circumstances that fall entirely outside a subsidy built around a working spouse and a stay-at-home spouse under one roof.

In short, the rule does not simply value one parenting choice over another. It values one family structure, married, two-parent, one-income-capable, over the range of structures in which Alabama’s children actually live, most of which were never a matter of preference to begin with. On its face, this approach is short-sighted, harmful, and will yield no positive benefits. Policymakers should abandon this thinking, and people across the country should vocally oppose this choice.

Lenice C. Emanuel is the Executive Director of the Alabama Institute for Justice.

Featured Image: Mother playing with young son (BlackPressUSA Stock Photo)