Where My Roots Lay

I was running late for work and by late I mean not late, but on Thursdays it's late because of street cleaning and lack of parking. So I circled the block several times before it hit 8:00 am and decided I'd have to widen my radius to the next street. This street, although only one street over from where I usually find parking on Thursdays, has a bad reputation. Its less residential but it is its overall shady reputation that is so off-putting. I was incredibly worried about my brand new, leased car. Needless to say it was fine. I didn't have any dents or scratches, no windows were broken, no ticket on the windshield, and there were no cinder blocks holding my car up.

Having grown up in the city I work has it's perks. I am familiar with the streets, know some great shortcuts to avoid traffic, not to mention I get a walk down memory lane on a daily basis. But the thing is, I grew up on the other side of the tracks, and in this case, the good side. By adding "Park" to the city name differentiates one side of town from the other. The side I grew up in is mostly Jewish now, has the best elementary school in the city, isn't as run down and isn't nearly as scary to walk through at night. I feel proud to say I grew up in this city and to say that I am a success story. But part of me feels like a fraud. I didn't brave the middle or high school, I only went to public school until 6th grade. But I love hearing my students say I have "street cred" for growing up in the hood and I never point out my fraudulence because I want to have this connection to them.

So why do I feel so badly about fearing for my car on that infamous street? I can't help but love and fear the city simultaneously. I know the flaws of the city: the crime, the drugs, the overall distaste the name usually leaves in outsiders' mouths. But I have some of the best memories from those "streets". It has never hurt me before so I need to trust it more.