In a world where crowdfunding has become a beacon of hope for many in dire straits, the line between genuine need and audacious entitlement can sometimes blur. This is the story of Emmalee Potter, a mother-of-three from Hillside in Victoria, who has found herself at the centre of an online controversy after launching a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for a house deposit.


The concept of community support is not new to Australians, who are known for their mateship and willingness to lend a hand. However, the response to Ms Potter's request has been anything but supportive, with many social media users expressing disbelief and mockery at her appeal for financial assistance to secure a home.


Ms Potter's campaign, which she started after 'suffering a rough few years,' was intended to gather the remaining funds she needed to purchase a house. She has been staying with family and friends for quite some time and is now tantalisingly close to achieving her goal of home ownership after 'working hard towards saving.'


In her plea, she stated, 'Saving up for a house deposit can be a long and challenging journey. I'm almost at the final stage but I'm short on the deposit so I'm calling on my village. Please help me get over this last hurdle, every little bit truly helps.'

Despite her heartfelt message and the acknowledgement of those who could not donate, the internet's reaction was swift and unforgiving. Critics questioned the appropriateness of using a crowdfunding platform typically reserved for medical emergencies, disaster relief, and other critical causes to fund a personal milestone like buying a house.

One commenter pointed out, 'No hate but you expect people to donate to you so you can buy a house. If we are all going to start GoFundMe accounts, I may as well start one so I can go on a holiday to Greece.'


Others expressed confusion over her financial strategy, with one person noting, 'The first paragraph of your listing says 'I'm now in a position to purchase a home' but you're asking strangers to send you money for the deposit.'

While some suggested she should look for a property with a lower deposit requirement, a few empathetic voices emerged from the crowd. They recognised the struggle of finding affordable housing in today's market, especially for those who have faced repeated rejections in the rental market.

Ms Potter defended her campaign, explaining the difficulty she and her children have faced in securing a rental property. 'Buying is actually cheaper than renting,' she argued. 'We've applied for over 100 rentals and been knocked back. I can get the home loan and pay the repayments [I'm] just needing the last bit of the deposit.'


Despite the backlash, a modest number of donors have contributed to her cause, proving that even in the face of criticism, there are still those who believe in the power of community support.

The situation raises important questions about the evolving nature of crowdfunding and the ethics of asking for help in a world where many are struggling. It also highlights the harsh realities of the Australian housing market, where the dream of home ownership remains elusive for many.

As we reflect on Ms Potter's story, it's worth considering the broader implications of her campaign. Is it a sign of the times, where traditional avenues for financial assistance are failing to meet the needs of everyday Australians? Or is it a step too far in the age of digital fundraising?

We invite our readers to share their thoughts on this matter. Have you ever contributed to a crowdfunding campaign? Do you think there should be limits on what people can fundraise for? Join the conversation and let us know your perspective.