There’s a new cartel on the block—but it’s not moving bricks, it’s moving babies, blueprints, and bold strategy. The Childcare Cartelis the docuseries we didn’t know we needed, until it pulled up with high heels, clipboards, and center keys in hand. Executive produced by Sherri J. White, the series unapologetically lifts the veil on Atlanta’s daycare industry—one that’s often glamorized or misunderstood, but rarely shown from the POV of Black women who actually run it.
The show isn’t just about business. It’s about what happens when Black women decide they’re no longer just caretakers—they’re CEOs.
“I’m not just raising children,” Sherri tells me. “I’m raising the bar.”
She’s been in childcare for 17 years. She owns three centers across Atlanta. She had her daughter at 14. Her story, like those of many Black women, began with survival and evolved into a strategy.
If there’s one thing she’s clear on: not all childcare centers are created equal.
As a former infant teacher, I know what she means. I’ve worked the shift where no one shows up to relieve you. I’ve held babies through lunch breaks and stood in classrooms wondering how something so vital could feel so invisible.
So for every mom who’s doing the daycare tours, sending bottles with labeled lids, and hoping her child’s name doesn’t get mispronounced at circle time—this is for you.
Here are 10 red flags to watch for, according to a woman who’s built an empire on bottles, balance sheets, and boundaries.
1. If they’re hard to reach, keep walking.
Sherri calls this the number one red flag.
“If the communication is off before you enroll, it’ll get worse once they have your child,” she says.
She’s right. Some providers are texting and emailing like they’re trying to close a real estate deal—until you sign the check. Communication should be consistent and respectful from the jump. That includes tone. If asking questions makes them act annoyed or bothered?
That’s your sign to walk.
2. A cute Instagram with no curriculum.
You should know what your child is learning—period. Childcare is not a holding space. It’s a developmental environment.
“There needs to be a posted lesson plan, every week,” Sherri said. “If they’re winging it, your child is too.”
Ask to see their teaching schedule. No baby should be doing free play all day. If lesson plans don’t exist or feel vague, it likely means the kids are just being managed—not taught.
3. No daily schedule = chaos you can’t see.
Source: Svetlana Repnitskaya
This goes beyond nap time. A child without structure in school can become a child without consistency at home. Ask about the daily flow—and expect clarity.
“You ever ask a parent what time their child naps, and they say ‘sometimes’?” Sherri asked me.
That “sometimes” starts at daycare. Kids need predictable rhythms. If the center can’t explain what your child is doing hour by hour, they’re making it up as they go.
4. The center smells like sour milk and lies.
Walk in and breathe deep. Sherri doesn’t buy the excuse that diapers, bottles, or kids just come with odors.
“When you walk through those doors, it should smell like any other establishment. If it doesn’t, they’re not doing their job.”
“It shouldn’t smell like Pampers or three-day-old Cheerios,” Sherri says.
If the scent knocks you over, so will the lack of sanitation. Cleanliness should be standard, not a special occasion.
5. It looks like a Pinterest board but feels off.
Source: Divine Influence PR
Yes, the floors are shiny. Yes, there’s a $5,000 mural. But look closer. Are the toys clean? Are the rugs vacuumed?
“Don’t get blinded by aesthetics,” Sherri warns. “Glitz is often a distraction.”
You’re not buying a vibe. You’re buying care. Sherri’s seen how “glitz and glam” can trick parents into feeling secure—but a Pinterest-worthy classroom doesn’t always mean it’s clean or safe.
6. There are cameras—but no accountability.
Sherri doesn’t offer livestream cameras for parents—and she’s firm on why.
“Some folks watch all day, and they don’t know what they’re looking at,” she told me. “Perception and reality are two totally different things when you’re in a fast-paced environment. Parents will call and say, ‘Why was my son the last one to get juice?’ But they didn’t see that he already had it two minutes earlier.”
But if something goes wrong and the center won’t let you view footage?
“That’s a red flag. I always let parents come in and see.”
There are too many stories out there about accidents or mistreatment. No, this isn’t helicopter parenting, but you can never be too careful.
7. There’s no open-door policy—and no trust.
This one’s layered. Sherri made it clear.
“If a center does not have an open-door policy, that’s a huge red flag. It could also symbolize that they’re hiding something.”
At the same time, she’s protective of her classrooms. Some parents, she said, misuse open-door policies to micromanage staff or check in over minor preferences.
“When that child sees you at 1 o’clock, they think it’s time to go,” she explained. “Now the whole day is thrown off.”
Look for providers with clear, balanced policies—ones that allow access, but protect structure and staff dignity too.
8. The teacher turnover is giving “musical chairs.”
I brought this one up myself, because I’ve seen it firsthand—classrooms with a new face every week. Sherri offered a fresh perspective.
“Sometimes, high turnover is a good thing,” she said. “It might mean the provider cares enough to remove someone who doesn’t belong around your child.”
The real red flag? If things go unaddressed. Sherri says parents should ask what the center does to support and retain good staff. Do they build community? Offer mentorship? That matters. When providers don’t explain, don’t acknowledge, or don’t have standards to begin with. Ask about staff culture, support, and how the team is developed over time.
9. You’re made to feel like asking questions is annoying.
If you feel dismissed, talked over, or like your concerns are met with side-eyes and sighs—it’s time to go.
“Your provider should never make you feel like a burden,” Sherri said.
Full stop. This is about partnership. Providers should respect your voice without trying to silence it.
10. There’s no sense of purpose.
Source: Freddy O.
This one isn’t about decor or curriculum—it’s about spirit.
“Childcare is purpose work,” Sherri told me. “You lose the mission, you lose everything.”
If the provider seems burned out, disconnected, or only in it for the check, it’ll show—and your child will feel it.
What The Childcare Cartel gets right is what the world often misses: Black women in childcare aren’t side characters. They are architects of early education, cultural caretakers, and multimillion-dollar business owners who don’t get their due. Until now.
As Sherri puts it: “We’re not just watching children—we’re shaping generations.”
One of the most honest moments in our conversation came when Sherri addressed something many providers—especially Black women—feel but rarely say aloud: the scrutiny that comes when your business actually succeeds.
“There’s a perception that if we show up with our hair done, or a new bag, or a new car—it’s suddenly not about the children anymore,” she told me. “But nobody says that about the white-owned franchises making millions. Their purpose isn’t questioned. Ours is.”
For Sherri, that double standard isn’t just frustrating—it’s dangerous. It forces Black providers into emotional labor and performance, constantly proving they’re not in it “just for the money,” even when they’ve earned every dollar.
“I’ve had months where I didn’t profit at all,” she said. “Where all I had was enough to feed the kids, buy supplies, and keep the lights on. So if you see me having fun when I finally can—that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Too often, Black women in caregiving roles are expected to pour endlessly, without boundaries or reward. But Sherri’s story pushes back against that narrative. It says: You can care deeply and still want comfort. You can be mission-driven and still expect money to flow. You can be excellent—and still deserve ease.
So whether you’re looking for childcare or just trying to understand what goes on behind the scenes, one thing’s for sure—The Childcare Cartel is more than a show. It’s a warning. A blueprint. An ode to the women who do this work with their hands, their hearts, and their hustle.
Get a first look at Sherri J. White’s bold new reality series by visiting childcarecartel.com
