Do you know one of the reasons Dolly Parton has always been so relatable?
She has never been shy about talking about where she came from. She was born into a large family in a tiny two-room home in the mountains of Tennessee. No pretending. No rewriting the story after she became successful. She talked openly about being poor, and somehow those humble beginnings became part of what people loved about her.
I think I’ve always related to that because those stories sound a lot like the ones I grew up hearing from my own parents.
My mom was from West Virginia. Her father left when she and her siblings were very young, leaving my grandmother to raise four children on her own with an eighth-grade education.
There were times when my grandmother and my aunt, who was the oldest child, wouldn’t eat so the younger three children could.
My mom has told me many times about having their water shut off. One story has always stayed with me. An employee from the water company came to disconnect their service, but before he did, he allowed the family to fill a number thirteen washtub with water so they would at least have something to drink after he left.
Imagine remembering that for the rest of your life.
My dad grew up in the coal-mining mountains of Kentucky, and his family wasn’t much better off. He used to tell us about playing with an old tire rim and a stick, pushing it down the mountain for entertainment.
They lived, as he would say, “up the holler.”
Small houses. Very few extras. Indoor plumbing itself could feel like a luxury.
Yet somehow two kids from West Virginia and Kentucky ended up meeting in a trailer park in Hammond, Indiana.
They were each visiting siblings who had moved north to work in the steel mills. My dad eventually drove to West Virginia to get my mom, they married, and they rented an apartment in Hammond.
Eventually, they bought a house.
Then they bought a duplex.
Over the years, with each move, the homes became a little bigger and the amenities a little nicer.
And for a long time, that was a pretty normal path to homeownership.
You didn’t necessarily buy your dream house at 22 or 25 years old.
You bought what you could afford. You got your foot in the door.
You painted. You fixed things. You lived with the ugly kitchen for a while. You built some equity. Then, when the time was right, you sold and moved up.
I did the same thing.
My first home was a small house in Merrillville. From there, I moved to a larger home that was a foreclosure with an acre, and eventually to an even larger home which was an estate sale in Crown Point.
I didn’t start with the house I ultimately wanted.
I started with the house that made sense for me at the time.
And that makes me wonder sometimes about today’s first-time homebuyers.
I hear people say that younger buyers are too pampered. That they want granite countertops, big primary suites, perfect neighborhoods and HGTV-ready homes right out of the gate.
And yes, sometimes I see buyers pass over perfectly livable little ranch homes because they aren’t updated enough, aren’t big enough, or aren’t in the neighborhood they pictured themselves living in.
Some young adults decide to stay with their parents longer and save until they can afford something bigger. Others choose to rent in Chicago or another city because they value the lifestyle more than owning a small home in the suburbs.
Is that being spoiled?
Or have they simply decided there are better options?
Because there is another side to this conversation.
We really aren't building many little starter homes anymore.
Drive through most new-construction communities around Northwest Indiana and you'll see beautiful homes, but very few of the tiny, inexpensive houses that previous generations once used as their first step into homeownership.
And the older starter homes that do exist aren't always as inexpensive as the word “starter” makes them sound.
Maybe young buyers haven't completely changed. Maybe the first rung of the ladder has.
I’m reminded of that every time I look at my own son.
He is 19 years old and recently bought his first home, a half duplex in Kenosha, WI.
It was definitely not move-in-ready perfection.
Almost every single room had ugly wallpaper.
And he removed it room by room.
He bought something he could afford, saw what it could become, and decided he would put in the work.
Watching him has reminded me that the starter-home mentality isn't necessarily gone.
Sometimes you still have to see past the wallpaper.
And perhaps that is the lesson that runs through my family's story.
My grandmother raised four children with very little.
My parents came to Northwest Indiana, started small, and gradually built a better life.
I bought my first little house in Merrillville and moved up over time.
And now my son has bought his half duplex and is starting his own version of that same journey.
I certainly don't romanticize struggle.
I wouldn't wish having the water shut off on anyone. I don't think anyone should have to skip dinner so their children or younger siblings can eat. And I'm pretty sure my parents didn't endure those things because they thought someday it would “build character.”
They simply did what they had to do, but those experiences did shape them- just like Dolly's.
They appreciated what they had because they remembered what it was like to have almost nothing.
And maybe there is still something valuable in the idea of starting small.
Not suffering. Not struggling just for the sake of struggling.
Just starting.
Buying the house that works for this chapter instead of waiting indefinitely for the house that checks every box.
Painting the cabinets. Pulling down the wallpaper. Living with the bathroom you don't love.
Building equity.
And knowing that your first home doesn't have to be your forever home.
So, maybe the question isn't whether today's young buyers are too pampered.
Maybe the better question is:
Have we made it harder for them to find that first rung of the housing ladder?
And when they do find it, are we still teaching them that it's okay to start there?