This happened to me in college, and I was so confused. My roommate and I used to take turns traveling back and forth to college. Her family came to get me, and at no point in time did “the ghetto” come up. But a mutual friend of ours started talking to me about “the ghetto” and I asked her why was I included in this conversation. She fumbled over her words so much trying to explain how she thought I lived in “the ghetto.” So either one of two things happened: the roommate felt my middle-income neighborhood that she was comfortable enough to knock on FOUR random doors because she forgot my address was “the ghetto” — or — our mutual friend was a royal ass. My guess? A little of both. (The roommate started yelling out the n-word when she got really drunk and showed her true colors. The mutual friend ended up dating a black guy and still felt like she was the ghetto connoisseur.

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Check out her five Medium publications: Doggone World, Homegrown, I Do See Color, Tickled and We Need to Talk. Visit Shamontiel.com to read about her.

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