Luci Lantos works in Lewiston and lives in Falmouth.

Buying your first home is supposed to feel like progress. It should be a step toward stability, equity and a long-term place in the community you love. Workforce housing programs are supposed to make that possible for people like my husband and me.

After months of searching, however, the experience has made something painfully clear: the math simply doesn’t work.

My husband and I got married last September and are trying to buy our first home. I was born in Falmouth, earned my master’s degree in school counseling at the University of Southern Maine and now work as a school counselor at Lewiston High School. My husband grew up in New Hampshire, earned a degree in business and works for a local nonprofit.

When people hear what we do, they often say, “Wow, good for you.” But is it really good for us?

According to the numbers, no.

Given our incomes, we decided that workforce housing developments might be a good fit for us. According to our Realtor and our lender, we were excellent candidates. We started by looking at the Scittery Woods Townhomes in Falmouth. One unit was listed at $425,000. It was a modest two-bedroom, 1.5-bath townhouse.

One “perk” of the workforce housing is that buyers can technically put down as little as 3%, but that brings the monthly mortgage to roughly $3,600. For someone earning under $133,000 a year — the income cap to qualify — payment could consume 50 to 60% of take-home pay. That is not affordability; it is financial risk.

To bring the payment down to something manageable, we would need roughly $200,000 upfront. Who earning under $133,000 has that kind of cash available?

To make matters more confusing, these homes also do not qualify for the Maine First-Time Homebuyer interest rate program. Not only does that seem to contradict their mission of “attainable home ownership,” but for many buyers, that program is the difference between a manageable payment and an impossible one.

We also looked at a property at Mineral Springs in Cumberland listed at $469,000. It was another two-bedroom home offering workforce housing options. Buyers are technically
allowed to add on or renovate over the years, but there is a catch. For the first 30 years after purchase, the home can only be sold to another buyer who meets the same income restrictions.

In other words, you can invest money improving the property but may never recover that investment when you sell. You are allowed to live in the home, but the system discourages building real equity.

These contradictions are not minor details. They are structural problems. To qualify for workforce housing, you must earn below a certain income threshold. To comfortably afford the mortgage, you need a salary well above that limit or a massive down payment that most people in this income range simply do not have.

In practice, the system quietly favors buyers with access to family wealth or outside financial support. I also recognize my own privilege. I have a supportive family, a career that I love, a hardworking partner and an education. If buying a home feels this difficult for someone with those advantages, what must it feel like for people without them?

For those earning less, with fewer resources or family support, the path to homeownership is not just frustrating, it can be impossible.

Workforce and affordable housing programs are essential, and the intention behind them is admirable. Communities need teachers, nonprofit workers, nurses and public servants to be able to live where they work. But the current model too often fails the very people it is meant to help, requiring access to funds that are simply not within reach.

A starter home should be a stepping stone. Right now, for many of us, it feels more like a wall.