Breaking Barriers:

The Culture We Built

When people talk about the housing crisis, they usually talk about numbers: prices, wages, mortgage rates. But the truth is, the problem isn’t just math. It’s culture. It’s the stories we’ve been told about what a “normal” home looks like, what success is supposed to mean, and who deserves to belong.

 

We’ve been sold the lie that bigger is better. That if you don’t have a two-story entryway or a kitchen island big enough for a magazine spread, you’re failing. The pressure to “upgrade” never ends — as if square footage and granite countertops prove you’ve made it.

 

We’ve been trained to hear “affordable housing” and think of charity, pity, or danger — and then breathe a sigh of relief when it’s “somewhere else.” We’ve let the phrase “not in my backyard” shape whole neighborhoods, whole cities, whole generations of exclusion.

 

We’ve turned homes into status symbols and financial chess pieces instead of what they were meant to be: places to live. Homes stopped being just shelter. They became an ‘asset class,’ a bragging right, a lottery ticket. And if you can’t play the game? The culture says that’s on you — you didn’t work hard enough, plan smart enough, or deserve it.

 

But here’s the truth: culture built this system. Zoning laws didn’t fall out of the sky. They were written by people who believed modest homes would “drag down” property values, that renters couldn’t be trusted, that families with less money didn’t belong next door. Lending practices didn’t just “happen” to disadvantage single parents, disabled buyers, or people of color — they were designed that way.

 

And the cultural myths? They keep those rules alive. They convince us that this broken system is normal. That it’s inevitable. That nothing can change.

 

I’ve lived this. As a single person with a disability, I’ve been shut out not just by cost, but by a culture that never pictured someone like me owning a home in the first place. And I know I’m not alone. Millions of people are locked out because our cultural story about housing has always been about who to let in — and who to keep out.

 

Here’s the part that’s going to sting: the housing crisis isn’t just someone else’s fault. It isn’t just developers or politicians. It’s us. Every time we equate success with square footage, every time we let “not in my backyard” go unchallenged, every time we nod at a $200,000 “starter home” as if that’s normal — we help keep the system in place.

 

So the question isn’t whether the culture will change. It’s whether we’re willing to change it. And if we’re not, then we’d better stop pretending to care about affordability, accessibility, or equity — because our culture is doing exactly what it was built to do: shut people out.