8 vacation spots upper-middle-class families consider basic that working-class families save years for

A conversation at the farmers' market stays with me.

A vendor was talking about finally taking her kids to Disney World after saving for three years. She was glowing with excitement. Another customer overheard and said, "Oh, we go every summer. It's basically a tradition now."

The vendor's face shifted slightly. Still smiling, but something had changed.

I grew up in a middle-class suburb where vacations meant driving to a lake a few hours away or visiting relatives. But during my almost 20 years as a financial analyst, I worked alongside people who casually mentioned their third trip to Europe that year like it was nothing.

The class divide isn't just about money. It's about what feels normal versus what feels like a once-in-a-lifetime splurge.

According to research from the Brookings Institution on economic inequality and lived experience, these different vacation patterns aren't just about budgets. They shape how families think about leisure, childhood memories, and what constitutes a "good life."

Here are eight vacation spots that reveal this divide clearly.

1) Disney World or Disneyland

For upper-middle-class families, Disney is practically a rite of passage. Annual passes. Multiple trips. Character breakfasts and park hopper tickets without thinking twice.

For working-class families, Disney might be the vacation they save for years to take once. If at all.

The marketing around Disney positions it as something every American family should experience. But a week at Disney for a family of four can easily cost $5,000 to $8,000 or more when you factor in park tickets, hotels, food, and travel.

That's several months of income for many families. It's not a casual annual tradition. It's a major financial undertaking.

Upper-middle-class families don't realize how their casual "we're thinking about Disney for spring break" sounds to someone who's been putting aside $50 a month for two years hoping to make it happen.

2) European vacations

"We're doing two weeks in Italy this summer" versus "I've always wanted to see Paris someday."

The difference in those statements is everything.

When I worked in finance, European vacations were treated as standard. People discussed which region of France or Italy they preferred with the same casualness others might discuss which grocery store they shop at.

I took on significant student loan debt and didn't finish paying it off until age 35. During those years, Europe wasn't even on my radar. I was focused on debt payments, not international travel.

For upper-middle-class families, Europe is achievable. Multiple flights, nice hotels, dining out, museum tickets. It's expensive, but it fits within their vacation budget.

For working-class families, a European trip might represent years of saving. And that's if they can get time off work, if they have passports, if the financial stars align.

3) All-inclusive Caribbean resorts

These are marketed as relaxing, easy, worry-free vacations where everything is taken care of.

What they actually are is expensive.

A week at an all-inclusive resort in Jamaica or Mexico for a family might cost $4,000 to $6,000. That's before excursions, tips, and travel to get there.

Upper-middle-class families see this as a reasonable vacation option. Not extravagant, just a nice week away where they don't have to cook or plan activities.

Working-class families see those same resorts in commercials and know they're out of reach. Maybe for a big anniversary. Maybe after years of saving. But not casually, not regularly, not as a "just because" trip.

The resort experience itself reinforces class divisions. Guests are insulated from local poverty, served by workers making a fraction of what the vacation costs, creating a bubble of leisure that feels normal to some and impossibly luxurious to others.

4) Ski vacations in Colorado or Vermont

Skiing is expensive in ways people don't always acknowledge.

Lift tickets can be $150 to $200 per person per day. Equipment rentals add up. Ski resort lodging is pricey. Food at the mountain costs more. Ski lessons for kids. The travel to get there.

For upper-middle-class families, an annual ski trip is standard. They might own equipment. They stay at nice lodges. They ski for a week without stressing about the cost.

For working-class families, skiing might be something they've never done. The entire culture around it feels foreign. The expense is prohibitive. And unlike a beach vacation where you can bring sandwiches and entertain yourselves cheaply, skiing requires constant spending.

I learned trail running at 28 as a way to cope with work stress, and I now run 20-30 miles weekly. It costs almost nothing. Good shoes and trails. That's accessible recreation. Skiing is recreation for people with disposable income.

5) Hawaii

"We're thinking Maui or Kauai this year" sounds so different from "Someday I'd love to see Hawaii."

Hawaii has become the aspirational family vacation. Beautiful beaches, culture, activities for kids. The problem is it's also extremely expensive.

Flights alone for a family of four can cost $2,000 or more. Hotels average $300 to $500 per night. Food, activities, car rental. A week in Hawaii easily costs $7,000 to $10,000.

Research from the Pew Research Center on wealth inequality shows that upper-middle-class families have dramatically more discretionary income than working-class families. A $10,000 vacation might be a stretch for them, but it's achievable. For working-class families, it's often impossible.

The Hawaii vacation has become a status marker. Photos from Maui signal a certain lifestyle. Working-class families see those photos and feel the distance between their reality and what seems to be everyone else's normal.

6) Extended summer camps or destination camps

This isn't a vacation spot in the traditional sense, but it reveals the divide clearly.

Upper-middle-class kids go to sleep-away camps that cost $3,000 to $10,000 for a few weeks. Horseback riding camps in Montana. Sailing camps in Maine. Coding camps in California.

These aren't childcare while parents work. They're enrichment. They're experiences. They're resume builders.

Working-class families can't imagine spending that kind of money to send their kids away. If they send kids to camp at all, it's local day camps. Maybe a week, not a month.

The camp experience creates networks, skills, and cultural capital that compounds over time. It's another way class differences perpetuate themselves.

7) Beach house rentals in popular destinations

Cape Cod. The Outer Banks. Southern California beaches. Florida's Gulf Coast.

Upper-middle-class families rent houses for a week or two in the summer. Whole extended families gather. It's tradition.

A beach house rental in a desirable location can cost $3,000 to $8,000 per week. Split among multiple families, it's manageable for people with money. For a single working-class family, it's prohibitive.

When I left my six-figure finance job at 37 to write, my financial picture changed completely. Suddenly expenses that had been manageable felt different. I had to budget on a writer's irregular income after years of steady corporate paychecks.

That experience gave me perspective on how quickly "normal" spending can become impossible when your circumstances shift.

8) Multi-week road trip vacations

This one is more subtle because road trips seem accessible. Drive to national parks, camp, cook your own food. Theoretically affordable.

But the multi-week version that upper-middle-class families do is different.

They take three weeks off work (which many working-class people can't get). They stay in hotels, not just campsites. They eat at restaurants. They visit multiple destinations across the country. The gas alone adds up.

I take photography walks to slow down and notice details, and I've done some weekend road trips. But a three-week cross-country adventure? That requires time and money most people don't have.

Working-class families might do a weekend camping trip. Maybe a week if they're lucky. But the leisurely, expensive, extended road trip is a different animal entirely.

Final thoughts

Here's what I want to be clear about: this isn't about making anyone feel guilty.

Upper-middle-class families aren't wrong for taking these vacations. They worked hard. They earned their money. They're allowed to spend it on experiences for their families.

But according to psychological research on social comparison and wellbeing, being constantly exposed to lifestyles you can't afford creates stress and dissatisfaction. When "normal" vacations become aspirational goals, it affects how families feel about their own lives.

The issue is when people don't recognize their privilege. When they act like these vacations are just what people do, without acknowledging that most families can't do them.

I had to struggle with guilt about having financial privilege that allowed my career change. I saved aggressively for three years, which was only possible because I'd been making good money. Most people don't have that option.

What I learned is that acknowledging privilege isn't the same as apologizing for it. It's just being honest about reality.

If you're a working-class family who's never taken these kinds of vacations, you're not failing. You're dealing with an economic structure that makes these experiences difficult to access. Your family memories made at local parks and free museums are just as valid.

And if you're an upper-middle-class family who does take these trips regularly, consider the assumptions you're making. When you casually mention your upcoming trip to Hawaii, some people in the conversation are calculating whether they could ever afford that. Be mindful.

The best vacations aren't about the destination. They're about connection, rest, and creating memories. You can do that anywhere. But let's not pretend that all vacation experiences are equally accessible.

Class differences are real. They shape childhoods, memories, and opportunities in ways that compound over time. Acknowledging that is the first step toward understanding each other better.