Not many of us like to show off extreme wealth. Similarly, not many want others to know that they fall below the poverty line. However, over the past few years at Urban, we’ve observed an interesting phenomenon involving many of our peers who genuinely think that they are part of the largest socioeconomic class in the United States, and probably aren’t.

Let’s be clear: We’re not blaming anyone for being ignorant. We’re simply commenting on something we’ve observed. Also, it’s important to recognize that most Urban students are not the primary moneymakers in their respective families. So, when students talk about class, they reflect the class of the households in which they live.

First, it’s essential to understand that San Francisco is not like the rest of the United States of America. According to the U.S. Census, the city and county of San Francisco’s median family income in 2000 was $63,545 per year, compared with $50,046 for the U.S.

That is a huge gap, and the gap between Urban students and the rest of San Francisco is even greater. According to the website zipskinny.com, which compares economic statistics by zip codes, the median household income of our school’s home neighbor- hood is $63,983, a fair representation of San Francisco as a whole. However, according to a Legend survey of the student body, the majority of households at Urban are either in Marin County, Noe Valley, Pacific Heights, or the Richmond. In Marin, median incomes range from $76,808 to $106,492. Noe Valley, Pacific Heights, and the Richmond have median incomes of $75,727, $84,710, and, $61,776, respectively. Another Legend survey of Urban’s students, faculty, and staff revealed that 43.2 percent identified as middle class, not lower, working, upper, or rich.

Identifying yourself as a member of a particular sector of society isn’t easy. Tomás Jacquez, who teaches the 10th grade service learning class, says that “class is a hard thing to talk about. There’s not necessarily a right or wrong answer when talking about class. We want to give sophomores the tools so we can have a conversation.”

But even students familiar with the issues have trouble with definitions. At recent class retreats, students have engaged in an activity known as “Crossing the Line,” in which one crosses a “line” if they feel that a statement or question presented applies to one’s identity, and does not if one feels otherwise. Students are asked to observe, but not judge.

During a recent “Crossing the Line,” only a handful stepped forward when asked if they were lower income. Another hand- ful stepped forward when asked if they were at the other end of the scale. But when “middle class” was offered as an option, an overwhelming majority crossed the line.

Jacquez isn’t surprised: “The big piece is that social class isn’t really talked about. It has many different layers of complexity.”

He adds that “it is important to distinguish the differences between income and wealth.” Income is what one receives via salary or other payment plans, normally yearly. Wealth is what one’s family accumulates over time and passes on.

How can we think we are from the middle class when the majority of our families are paying $34,050 a year for us to at- tend Urban, and only 27 percent of the student body is receiving financial aid, a clear minority?

Jacquez wants students to understand that “at Urban, we are trying to get our students to be viable members of society.”

Integral to being in a position of economic power is realizing we have a lot of responsibility.

This skewed perception of the middle class at Urban is causing us to underestimate what we can and should be doing as citizens. We can’t just sit in the bubble that surrounds our school and San Francisco. Living in San Francisco doesn’t make you a progressive — deeds do. Once we do understand where we fall on the socioeconomic scale, we can start to repair the imbalances that plague our society every day.

The unsigned editorial represents a majority view of the staff of The Urban Legend.