Ghetto points?

I apparently scored points with some of my developmental comp students today. And I feel kind of weird about it.

We were talking about neighborhoods, and about writing about neighborhoods. I mentioned the neighborhood I used to live in (a cookie-cutter middle-class suburb) and the neighborhood I live in now, which is urban and older but still pretty solidly middle class.

None of the students in the class lives in either of those neighborhoods. One of them asked, "Ms. Deb [I don't tell them to call me that, but some of them do], have you ever been in a ghetto neighborhood?"

"Well, no. Except for Z. I've spent a little bit of time in Z, if that counts," I said.

Gasps all around. Strange looks on their faces, looks I couldn't quite interpret.

"What?" I said. (I was thinking that maybe Z didn't really qualify as "ghetto" in their minds.)

"That's like the WORST of the worst," someone said. "You've really been there?"

I gave them some background: Some of my colleagues and I work on a special project with GED students, and I've spent some time over the last couple of years in Z because of that project. Last summer I worked with some of the GED teachers and students to make a little video about the GED center and the neighborhood itself, so I got to see some of the high and low spots in Z.

My students were impressed. One of them, who lives in Z, said, "See, that's why you're cool. 'Cause you've been in the ghetto."

Then I felt like a fraud, like I was presenting my minimal experience with Z as though I'd been immersed in the neighborhood.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." I said. "It's not like I lived there. I've never even been inside a house there. I can't claim to really know the neighborhood."

Right away, one of them asked, "Were you ever there at night?"

Yes, I told him. A couple of times. Not real late, but after dark.

"Well, you get ghetto points then," he said. And he smiled and high-fived the woman next to him.

Everybody laughed. And then we moved on to a discussion about other neighborhoods.

At the end of class, I usually have each student write an "inkshed," a brief anonymous comment about class or about what they learned or whatever. Today, one of them wrote:

My teacher has some ghetto points. You go, girl Deb.

I'm not quite sure what to make of all this. Part of me feels like I exploited this little bit of experience I have with Z in order to make a connection with my students. But then even after I tried to explain how much of an outsider I really was, my small foray into Z still seemed to count so much for them. And that saddens me somehow.