In the heart of Plain City, Utah, a quiet revolution is underway—a response to the soaring cost of homeownership that has left many young families feeling locked out of the American dream. For Miranda and Cole Potokar, both in their early twenties, the journey to homeownership was anything but straightforward. Like many of their peers, the Potokars found themselves priced out of the market, forced to live in Miranda’s grandparents’ basement for two years, pinching pennies to save for a down payment. "We would make jokes like, 'What was I doing in third grade? I should have been buying a house instead of learning, you know, multiplication!'" Miranda recalled, according to NPR.
Their story is far from unique in Utah, a state where the median home price has soared above half a million dollars—well beyond the national average. According to Beritaja, this spike is driven by a combination of increasing demand, larger-than-average family sizes, and an influx of new residents. The Potokars’ experience is emblematic of a broader generational struggle. In fact, the median age of first-time U.S. homebuyers has now hit a record high of 38, up from 31 just a decade ago, as reported by NPR. With home prices up nearly 50% nationally in the past five years, the dream of homeownership has become increasingly elusive for young Americans.
Recognizing the urgency of the situation, Utah Governor Spencer Cox set an ambitious target about a year and a half ago: build 35,000 lower-cost starter homes within five years. "The American dream of homeownership is slowly but surely slipping away from far too many, out of reach of our children and grandchildren," Cox told mayors at a housing summit in May 2025, as quoted by NPR. For Cox, affordable housing has become a signature issue. He’s repeatedly called on builders to help fill the gap—even if it means lower profits—and has asked local leaders to approve projects that might face resistance from residents wary of change. "Are we going to be the selfish generation?" he challenged Utahns, urging them to consider the needs of future generations.
Despite these high-profile appeals, progress has been slow. By May 2025, only about 5,100 of the targeted starter homes had been built or started—just a fraction of the goal. "We're on our way, but we desperately need to do more. And we need to move faster," Cox admitted at the summit, according to Beritaja. To spur development, Utah lawmakers approved low-interest construction loans for starter homes last year and expanded the program this year to include starter condos. These incentives are part of a broader push for denser, more affordable housing options. But as of September 2025, many builders remain hesitant to participate.
Housing experts argue that more fundamental changes are needed. Andra Ghent, a finance professor at the University of Utah, told NPR that the best way to create smaller, affordable homes is to change zoning laws to allow smaller lot sizes. "A lot of municipalities throughout the state have minimum lot sizes of a quarter-acre. That's enormous as a lot size. If developers are stuck with that minimum lot size, they're going to build luxury homes," Ghent explained. While some states, like Texas, have taken the controversial step of overriding local zoning laws to encourage more affordable development, Utah lawmakers have so far rejected such measures, despite the governor’s support.
Still, there are glimmers of hope. In Plain City, developer Jed Nilson has taken up the challenge, building starter homes priced under $400,000—a relative bargain in today’s market. With the help of a deal struck with Weber County, Nilson Homes was able to add more houses to its development by using smaller plots that would typically be left open. "We intentionally wanted to show that we could put these starter homes in the entrance of a thousand-home community because they're beautiful architecture," Nilson told NPR. The development features a colorful mix of farmhouse, craftsman, and mountain modern designs, and the homes sit side by side with larger, market-rate properties.
Nilson’s approach is not just about aesthetics or numbers. Priority for these homes is given to first-time buyers, teachers, first responders, and essential workers. To prevent speculation, each home must be owner-occupied for a decade. The demand has been overwhelming: as of 2025, there’s a long waitlist for these starter homes, which Nilson describes as "outrageously unusual." The company has 260 more starter homes in the pipeline, a testament to both the need and the appetite for affordable options.
For the Potokars, Nilson’s development was a lifeline. After months of frustration, they were among the first to move into one of the new starter homes this past spring. Their two-story, 1,400-square-foot home features big windows that let in ample light, space for Cole to work from home, and a third bedroom for a future family. "This is our little dining nook, which is massive," Miranda said during a tour, as reported by NPR. The couple enjoys morning walks and has already met neighbors their own age—a rarity in a market increasingly dominated by older, more established buyers.
"This is like a base not only for our family, but also to set us up for the future," Cole reflected. "And in so many ways that, like, we don't even know." Their story illustrates the broader stakes of Utah’s housing crisis. As Nilson put it, "Maybe I'll make less money per home, but I get to build more homes. And I'm going to fix a societal problem. I mean, a society can't function when there's no room at the bottom for people to get started on their upward mobility."
As Utah stands at a crossroads, the question remains: will incremental incentives and the efforts of a few determined developers be enough to make a dent in the crisis, or will bolder policy changes be required to ensure that the next generation can afford a place to call home? For now, families like the Potokars are counting their blessings, but many others are still waiting for their chance to step onto the first rung of the housing ladder.
