Ghetto

I've never lived in a safe neighborhood. I've never been able to hang out in my front yard without being cautious. Even when it was a group of people outside, I'd be watching, making sure a stranger didn't join the crowd of familiar faces. I grew up worrying about getting mugged or kidnapped since it was happening so often in the world around me. I knew I had to be careful everywhere I went, even if it was just to get the mail outside. Living in the ghetto isn't safe, nor will it ever be anytime soon. But even so, I feel an unusual sense of pride of where I come from. Living out in a neighborhood where drugs and guns run amok doesn't sound like the best thing, and it's probably not, but somehow it helps teach lessons.
Growing up in a place like this teaches you a few things. You learn to care for yourself. You learn to be aware of your surroundings. You learn to watch your every step. You learn what to avoid saying and what to avoid doing in certain places. You learn to appreciate everything you have. You learn to be respectful. You learn a bunch of things. You always will. 

Some people living in the ghetto never get out. Some never live long enough to get out. Others do. Most aren't expected to make it out, especially with the amount of money that's normally made. Money shouldn't be an issue, but for most, it is. For us, it definitely is. 
My family can't afford to go on vacations to places too far from home because we always got something to worry about back home. We can't go anywhere unless it's necessary because we got other things to worry about. Shit like that changes you. I appreciate everything my parents do for me since I know where we come from. I know where we grew up. I know we go through financial struggles, but in the end, I always have my family and that's what matters. 
So yes, I grew up in the ghetto. I grew up in a place where danger litters the streets but hope is abundant. I'm proud of where I come from. Nothing will ever change that.