My Mother Thought I Was Moving to a Slum—So She Brought 50 Relatives to Mock Me. They Didn’t Expect the Address.

anything without a visible designer logo might as well have been burlap.

Martha pulled a crumpled flyer from her pocket and slapped it onto the table with theatrical flair. It advertised Section 8 housing on the South Side—the part of town where streetlights didn’t work and police sirens provided the nightly soundtrack.

“I found this in your trash,” continue reading …