The core of this chapter in Laymon’s book was what it meant to grow up black in America during the last quarter of the twentieth century. Being black meant, being aware of “the worst of the white people.” No, Laymon was not referring to Klansmen or Nazi-skinheads, “The worst of white folks, I understood, wasn’t some gang of rabid white people in crisp pillowcases and shaved heads” (28). Neither was it a group of segregationists wanting to keep blacks out of what they perceived as white America. The worst of the white folks was no person or group of persons; it was an amalgamation of ideas held by the ill-informed white people who were the majority of America. As Laymon explained, “It conveniently forgot that it came to this country on
