MY PARENTS BOUGHT A HOUSE AT 25. I FEAR I MAY NEVER.

This summer — the summer of Barbenheimer, record-breaking heat and the unfortunate demise of those guys in the submarine — I turned 25.

It was the kind of morning I’ve come to associate with my coming of age — the usual sticky heat of mid-July — when my family was enjoying potatoes and eggs and I made the mistake of asking my father what his life was like when he was my age, knowing his response would be deeply unrelatable.

“I’d just bought us a brand new house,” he proclaimed as he passed the hot sauce.

There it was. My mom and dad were 25 — and I, a hardly sentient being — when they signed onto a mortgage in a new suburb in Glendale, Arizona. Not long before we got there, before it was a land of single-family homes, hospitals, elementary schools and eventually

Super Bowls, it was mostly dirt and citrus groves. The year was 1999, and the fourbedroom, two-bath home cost $156,000 — or about $290,000 in 2023 dollars.

Historical housing data indicates this was a fairly average transaction for 1999 in the Phoenix area. Maricopa County was, and remains, a beacon of growth and relative affordability.

I should emphasize that neither of my parents have finished college to this day, and neither of them come from money (plus, I think they were a little unhinged). But this seemed to matter less for previous generations — even as recently as 25 years ago. My dad was able to make good money as a car salesman, my mom was able to stay home to take care of me and eventually my sisters, and everything was more or less OK.

Still, I can’t help but be disturbed by this thought as I embark on my 25th rotation around the sun. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for my silly little life, so much so that it feels stupid to complain about it. I live in a beautiful city, am the first in my family to finish college and have a stable job at a major newspaper. But I’m also resentful.

As a young person, I’m fortunate to have an apartment I share with two roommates. The majority of

Americans from 18 to 29, despite being more educated than generations past, can’t even afford to rent independently — they have to live with their parents.

The skyrocketing costs of higher education and housing have largely pushed young people out of the home-buying market, despite their financial and educational successes. Among millennials, 63 percent haven’t saved for a down payment and about 25 percent have resigned themselves to a lifetime of renting. Imagine the peril of Gen Z!

The idea has always been that your kids are supposed to be better off than you, but comparing my parents’ situation to my own, it would be difficult to determine who was better off entering their second quarter of life.

My family relocated to San Diego in 2015 for a job, and we’ve since accepted our roles as perpetual renters in the sunshine economy. I love this city and hope to stay here indefinitely, yet I can understand why cities like Los Angeles are shrinking while Phoenix is growing. People first came to California following promises of wealth, and now they’re leaving for the same reason.

But they’re also bringing our problems with them. Places like Phoenix, while still far less expensive than coastal cities, are now experiencing their own affordability crises (not to mention the increasingly hellish summers).

If anything, I hope older people can begin to understand that the paradigms that worked for generations past don’t apply seamlessly to today. Getting a college degree doesn’t guarantee you a good job, and getting a good job doesn’t guarantee you a house. The pipeline to building up wealth is drying up. While our parents worked hard to get ahead, we have to work hard just to keep up, and often still can’t.

While conversations about the housing crisis are increasingly dominated by homeowners complaining about hypothetical apartments, the effects of the shortage are real and immediate for myself and other renters — not to mention the thousands of people without a roof over their heads. If we want our kids and grandkids to enjoy any semblance of security, we must fight for more affordable housing, cheaper college, livable wages and fair benefits (unless, of course, you want them to live with you forever).

Young people have been set up to fail, but we’re not hopeless. It is precisely this peril that’s invigorated the most politically active generation this nation has ever seen. The future will depend on society’s ability to listen and respond with compassion.

I hope older people can begin to understand that the paradigms that worked for generations past don’t apply seamlessly to today.

is a community engagement editor for The San Diego Union-Tribune. She lives in North Park. Follow her on X: @bellamayaross